Title:    "The Flower Shop" (c) January 20, 2000

Author:    Shelayne Boh

Rating:    R

Copyright:   All characters are copyright and belong to the author except for Antoine Laconte, owned by Happy Madison/Disney. No infringement intended. No one is making any money off of this, trust me. Just having fun with characters!

Comments:   The author is open to comments. Please send your comments to Tikibear@aol.com

CHAPTER 1

He wore a dark suit, neatly pressed and shiny black shoes. His shirt was pure white, with gold cuff-links on the sleeves and a black tie. His cap covered his long, dark hair which was pulled back in a short pony-tail. He stood by the boarding gate at the airport, holding up a sign with the last name of his client on it. People stared at him as he stood silently to one side, noting his handsome, Italian looks and wondered, for his demeanor was anything but that of a servant. It contrasted with his work clothes. He knew they stared but he was used to it. He was, after all, a chauffer. And an expensive one at that, he thought to himself.

He permitted a small grin that didn't quite reach his eyes when he caught sight of his client. She was an executive of some large company, glamorous, perfect body, perfect face, perfect hair. In fact she was so perfect, she looked plastic. But he kept his smile as she reached him and handed him her carry-all. "Hello Antoine" she said with a sultry voice, "long time, no see".

"It has been some time, Ms. Garrison" he said with a bow and he escorted her to the baggage claim area to pick up the rest of her luggage. Having pushed his way through the crowds to get her luggage, he walked back to her and escorted her out to the waiting limousine. He put her luggage in the trunk and opened her door for her. She got in, he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side and slipped behind the wheel. He started up the engine and eased out into traffic. Once he got past the congestion of automobiles, he looked in his rearview mirror and saw her watching him. He looked back to the road as he sighed inwardly, for he knew what her answer would be when he asked her his question. "Where am I taking you now, Ms. Garrison?"

"Why Antoine, you know perfectly well where you're taking me now" she said as she plucked an imaginary piece of lint off her skirt, which resulted in moving her skirt further up her leg.

"As you wish" he replied. He looked at her again by way of the rearview mirror. "You do remember how much it will cost you?" he asked.

"Of course I do" and she pulled out of her purse an unmarked envelope, fat with money. "But I put a little bit extra in because I have a surprise." She reached again into her purse and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, dangling them from the end of her finger for him to see. Antoine eyed the handcuffs, then the envelope, then focused back on the road ahead of him. Handcuffs. Well, she was willing to pay extra for it, he thought. "All right, then, we go to my place."

He didn't live far from the airport due to his job and in no time they were at his apartment. He stopped the car, walked around to open the door for her and helped her out. She wrapped one arm around his waist as they walked to his apartment door, every once in a while glancing up at him, trying to catch his eye. But he was intent on getting this job over with and didn't bother with her passionate glances. He opened the door, stepping back to let her in first, then followed her in, closing the door behind him.

Once inside, she turned around to him. "Now you can take off that silly cap and let your hair down." She pulled off his cap and started to undo his hair.

"Just a moment. Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I check my messages?" and he started to walk away. She grabbed him back to her.

"I'm paying for your time so I get to dictate what happens right now" and she put her arms around his neck to loosen his hair. He stood still while she let it loose from its bond, running her fingers through it, reveling in the feel of its silky thickness. "Mmm...your hair is truly a wonder, Antoine."

He smiled down at her, letting her play with his hair, noticing her desire for him rising by her increased breathing. He bent his head down to her and tentatively kissed her lips but she pulled his head right into her, not settling for a tender kiss. He sighed inwardly, mentally giving himself a pep talk as he set about to do his business. After all, it was only business.

CHAPTER 2

"Okay, your total comes to forty-two dollars and eighteen cents". Isabelle waited patiently while her customer thumbed through his wallet searching for the required amount. He counted out the exact challenge and handed it to her. "Thank you very much. Enjoy your flowers" she called as the customer left the building. She sighed as she cleared away the prep table for it had been a busy morning. Valentine's Day was one of their busiest holidays and it was all Isabelle and her grandmother could do to keep up with the orders.

"Grandma?" she called to the back room. "We have a breather here between customers. Do you wanna grab a bite to eat?"

Her grandmother came from the back room, a large bunch of stargazer lilies in her hands. "No time, dear. You need to get started on deliveries or we'll never get them done in time."

"I can't go until Kathleen gets here." Isabelle looked at the clock. "Hmm....she gets out of school at 2:15 and it's 3 o'clock. She's late."

"She's probably at Ricky's house, you know, her new beau. And I'll be fine by myself."

Isabelle sighed as she wiped her hands off on a towel. Things had been easier when granddad was here. But he had died a year ago, leaving them this business so that her grandmother, her sister and herself would have some kind of income. It did give them an income, but not enough to hire another person, so from early morning to late evening, they worked non-stop, with Kathleen helping them when she could. But she was just a child, although at thirteen years of age, was more mature than most adults she knew.

Isabelle enjoyed the business though, for she loved flowers. Had she been able to go to college, she would have gone into horticulture or possibly on to botany. But there hadn't been any inheritance when her parents had died unexpectedly. The money had barely covered the bills, let alone the funeral expenses and she and her sister had moved in with her grandparents, whom they loved dearly.

"All right grandma, I'll get going. Are you sure you'll be okay here by yourself?" She hated leaving her grandma alone for long periods of time.

"You go on sweety. I'm a tough, old bird and I can handle it" said her grandma with a twinkle in her eye. "I just wish I could tell you to take the day off, and go home and get ready for your date. After all, it's Valentine's Day. You should be with your beau."

"Grandma, I don't have a "beau", remember?"

"I know dear, but you should. Even Kathy has a beau. And if a sixth grader can get one, then certainly a woman as beautiful as you should have a man in her life."

Isabelle laughed good-naturedly. "Grandma, you're biased! But thank you for the compliment."

Just then, the front door opened and a tall, thin teenager walked in, carrying books and grinning from ear to ear. Isabelle whipped around at the sound of the door chime.

"Kathleen! You're late! Just where have you been young lady?"

Kathleen plunked her books down on the counter and put her hand on her hip. "Jeez, Belle, you sound just like mom sometimes!" and she went to the flower cooler.

Isabelle didn't let up. "C'mon babe, you know I'm teasing you! But I was a little worried, especially since this is such a busy day for us and we could really use your help."

Kathleen rooted around the cooler until she found her hidden stash of Pepsi. She grabbed a can and closed the door, turning back around to face Isabelle, an excited look on her face.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, but I had such a great day today! Ms. Carpel showed us a new dance today and you know how much she loves swing and jazz and that type of stuff. Anyway, she showed us how to jitterbug and we had to have partners and Ricky Sanders and I were partners! And we had to hold hands to do some of the moves and it was so cool! Then in history class, he passed a note to me and we almost got caught because I was so nervous that he actually passed me a note, that I dropped it! But Kimberly picked it up before Old Man Fartll saw it and gave it to me!" By this time grandma had come out of the back room to listen and smile.

"That's Mr. Ferdell to you, young lady" said grandma.

"Okay, Mr. Ferdell."

Isabelle laughed. "So? What did the note say?"

A big smile lit Kathleen's face as she answered. "He said he wanted to be my Valentine!"

Grandma put her hands to her face in a false gesture of shock and dismay. "Passing love letters in history class? Why, Kathleen Elizabeth! I'm disappointed with you!"

Kathleen saw the teasing look on her grandmother's face and ran to give her a big hug. "I'm so happy" she said into her grandmother's shoulder. Isabelle came over and put her arms around both of them.

"I'm happy for you, too, babe. I know you've liked Ricky for a long time, ever since second grade."

"Yeah" sighed Kathleen.

The three women stood in the embrace for a moment until another customer walked through the door, ringing the door chime. Isabelle broke the tableau. "Well, I gotta get going on these deliveries." She tousled Kathleen's head and kissed her grandmother on the cheek. "I'll be back later tonight and we'll celebrate V-day together."

"Okay, bye, see ya later" and Kathleen moved to greet the new customer. Grandmother put her hand up to caress Isabelle's face.

"All right dear. You just drive carefully, okay?"

Isabelle smiled. "Okay, grandma, you got it." Isabelle went to the back room and opened the back door to where the small van was parked. She began loading the various flower arrangements according to geographical area in the van. Once done, she removed her apron and washed her hands. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. Beautiful, her grandmother had said. Well, she thought to herself, obviously not beautiful enough. She ran a quick comb through her unruly, shoulder-length red hair and put it in a scruntchy at the nape of her neck. She noticed a couple of dirt smudges on her face so grabbed a hand towel, wetting it with water from the faucet and scrubbed it off. Her dark brown eyes were a bit too small for the shape of her face, her nose looked like a ski jump, turning up at the end and her lips....well, her lips were too thin for her small mouth. She sighed as she wondered what it would be like to look like Julia Roberts and have the men adore you. Oh well, she thought, Julia probably has doubts about herself also. But Isabelle couldn't think of what they could possibly be.

She looked down at her clothes to make sure she looked half-way presentable. Her stone-washed jeans had a few dirt smudges on them from the potting soil, her tennis shoes looked like they could use a good washing and her white tank top, well, she couldn't figure out what made her think of wearing white at a florist shop that day. But the apron had saved her in that respect and her shirt looked fine. She grabbed van keys off of a nail on the wall and walked outside into the sunshine, enjoying the feel of the sun on her skin. She climbed into the van, started it up and pulled out into traffic.

CHAPTER 3

The sounds of ecstasy filled the bedroom as the man and woman reached their climax together, moaning and groaning as animal instinct took over. Afterwards, the couple relaxed, spent, and breathing heavily. They were both naked, she had her hands handcuffed to the headboard of the bed and he was on top of her, his arms under her bent knees and doubling her legs almost up to her shoulders. He finished and looked at her face, noting the closed eyes and the smile that played about her lips. He knew he had more than satisfied her, he always did with the ladies. That's why they kept coming back for more. That's why he could afford to live like he did. He slid himself out of her, rolled over, and pulled the condom off, tossing it into the garbage can. He then rose from the bed to find his boxers. She had made a trail of his clothing which started out in the living room and ended up somewhere.....ah! There they were, behind the antique fainting couch. He picked them up and slipped them back on, then walked out to the living room to collect the rest of his clothing.

He came back to the bedroom, looking at the woman on his bed and found her watching him. "Tell me where the keys to the handcuffs are and I'll let you out of them" he said.

"No worries about that. They're trick handcuffs. I can get out at anytime" and she released herself from the bonds.

He gathered up her clothing as he spoke. "No key? Very handy."

She gave a sultry laugh. "Antoine, you should know by now I never leave myself without an 'out'"

He walked back over to the bed and held out her clothing to her. "I took the liberty of calling a cab for you."

She looked at the clothing, then back to him, pouting. "Are you so eager to be rid of me?"

Antoine sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's not that I'm eager, I just have other work to do."

She took this comment in stride. "At least your honest." She leaned towards him. "Antoine, why don't you give up this lifestyle and marry me? I can support you in the manner you're accustomed to and then some."

He gave her a cold look. "Somehow, I don't think your husband would approve."

"I'll divorce him if you just say yes."

"No."

She frowned and tried another tactic. "You can't seriously tell me you enjoy your job."

"Who wouldn't enjoy my job? It pays the bills, gives me material comforts and I can set my own hours. I'm a free man."

"And that's what it boils down to, doesn't it? Freedom. You don't want to give up your freedom." She snatched her clothes from his hands and started to get dressed.

"Yes. I have my freedom. Besides, I don't want to be a pampered lap dog for some rich bitch."

She froze for a moment. "You know, you can be such a bastard sometimes" and she continued dressing.

"This, I know." He put on his silk robe and walked out to his living room to let her finish dressing in privacy. He fixed himself a drink and sat down to relax. Minutes later, she walked crisply from the bedroom, her suit jacket flung over her arm and stood looking at him. He made no move to go to her or initiate a conversation so she finally opened her purse and took out the envelope full of money. "Here's your damn fee. I hope you choke on it." She threw it down on the couch and walked through the front door, slamming it behind her.

Antoine raised his glass in her direction. "Ciao, baby" he said and he drained his drink.

Isabelle held the heavy vase full of blood red roses in the crook of one arm as she looked at the address on the receipt in her other hand. She walked down the hallway, noticing its fancy architecture and wondered how much money one had to have to live in a place like this. She walked with unsure steps and heard a door slam ahead of her. She paid no attention to the woman walking briskly towards her, concentrating on finding the correct apartment door, when the woman plowed right into Isabelle's shoulder, almost knocking her over.

"Hey!" cried Isabelle as she desperately held onto her precious delivery. She leaned against the wall to steady herself and looked back at the woman waiting at the elevator. She began to say something to her when the sound of another door behind her opened. She heard a deep, accented voice say "You forgot your handcuffs" and looked for the owner of that beautiful sound. What she saw took her breath away: a tall man, with dark, shoulder-length, wavy hair, high cheekbones that accentuated his dark brown eyes and a dark goatee that framed full lips. A dark-blue, satin robe hung on broad shoulders, opened to reveal a muscular chest. As Isabelle's eyes traveled downward, she saw that he had silk boxers on and long, firm, muscular legs, which ended in beautiful feet. She gave a gasp and said quietly, "Oh my!" but he must have heard her for his eyes glanced at her then back to the woman standing at the elevator.

The woman didn't even look at him as she replied. "Keep them as a memento of our tryst, for you won't be seeing me again." The elevator doors opened and she stepped out of view. Isabelle watched as the gorgeous creature shrugged his shoulders and, moving over to the elegant trash receptacle in the hallway, he tossed the handcuffs in it. He walked back to his door, stopping as he was about to enter his apartment, for he noticed the flower girl hadn't moved. He looked back at her and saw her wide eyes, chuckling to himself as he guessed what was going through her mind. He tried to break her out of her spell. "Can I help you?" he asked politely.

Isabelle looked around to see whom he could be speaking to. When she finally figured out it was herself, she stammered out a reply. "I'm ..I...ah, I'm looking for apartment...umm...." She consulted her delivery receipt "....1411C." She looked back at him, trying desperately not to gawk and feeling like an utter fool.

He pointed to the other end of the hall. "It's down that way. Fourth door on the right."

"Th-Thank you" Isabelle replied. He smiled and she thought she was in heaven. Such a beautiful smile! And his teeth,...even they were perfect, straight and very white against his dark skin and darker moustache. He walked back into his apartment and closed the door. Isabelle let out a sigh and leaned back against the wall for support. He has got to be the most beautiful man I've ever seen, she thought to herself. She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts but all she could see in her mind was him standing there in front of her. She continued on down the hall to the correct apartment and finished her delivery in a daze.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Antoine closed the door behind him and walked over to the couch where the envelope full of money was lying. He picked it up, opened it and thumbed through the bills. She had been generous in her "extra" bit. Probably meant it as a bribe, he thought sourly. Like he would ever marry any of these women. They had no morals and they all looked alike, perfect in their silicone and plastic surgery loveliness. They were wealthy, spoiled, bored wives of millionaires. Most likely married them for their money. Well, he thought, they made their bed, now they could lie in it. Of course, they searched out other beds, his in particular, and as his reputation had grown, so had his clientele.

Antoine sat down on the couch holding the envelope and looking at it in a detached way. He had been fairly content with his lifestyle, until recently, and he wasn't sure what had changed. But now his job bored him. He thought about it for a moment, leaning back against the couch to stare at the ceiling. He supposed he had felt it a challenge when he first started out a few years ago. He'd had nothing, no place to live, no car, no family here in America. He had plenty of family back in Italy though, but he had never been good at letter writing. So he had done what he could, the odd jobs here and there, until one night, while waiting tables, a woman had slipped him a note and some money. That's all it had taken to start this lifestyle, and the word slipped out about his prowess in the bedroom. Now he had everything he could want or need. Well, almost everything. The telephone ringing brought him out of his thoughts. He picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end of the line sounded disguised but he could tell it was male.. "Hello. I won't give you my name because it probably wouldn't mean anything to you. But you will meet me at Horatio's at 5 p.m. and we'll have a little chat."

Antoine's eyebrows shot up. "And why would I want to meet with you?" he asked calmly.

The voice on the other end continued. "Because I have some pictures that I think you would find very interesting."

Antoine froze. "Pictures?"

"Yes, of you and my wife in certain, compromising positions. If you want to stay out of trouble with the police, you'll meet me." The phone went dead.

Antoine put the receiver back in the cradle and sighed. This was one of the few down sides of his job. Getting caught, especially by the husband. It had happened only twice before and he'd been able to talk his way out of it. He sighed. Blackmail was a nasty business, but he had no choice. He got up and walked over to his fish tank. His favourite fish, a tropical specialty that he could never remember the name of, was at the glass. He tapped on the glass gently and got eye-level with it. "Hello, feeshy, feeshy, feeshy" he cooed. He smiled, straightened up and looked at the clock. It was 4:15, so he walked into his bedroom where he dressed himself in one of his Armani suits, thinking of how he could best deal with the upcoming confrontation. He was just putting his cufflinks on when the phone rang again. He walked over to his nightstand and picked it up.

"Hello?"

This time the voice was female. "Hello Antoine" came the sexy southern drawl. Definitely female. "It's Miss Audrey."

Antoine groaned inwardly. "Hello, Miss Audrey. What can I do for you?"

"Everythin' once and the best things twice. Come by house at 9 tonight. I have need of your services."

Antoine thought for a brief second, then decided to turn this client down. It wasn't' that he disliked this client, in fact, quite the opposite. She was 60 years old, intelligent and humorous, known to her friends as the Widowmaker, for she'd been married 5 times to very wealthy men and they had all died before their time. She had taught him a lot in the art of pleasing a woman and she always paid well. But he had no idea what the blackmailer wanted and needed to keep the evening open. "I'm sorry Miss Audrey, tonight is not a good night. It's Valentine's day and I've got...."

"I don't care what you've got. I'm lonely, and I need you."

"Miss Audrey, I have other engagements...."

"Break 'em. I'll pay you triple what I norm'ly give you."

Triple? Antoine thought for a moment. That would be a lot of money. And he might need it. He gave in to her. "All right, I'll be at your house by 9 pm."

"Thank you darlin', see you then." She hung up. Antoine hung up the phone and finished putting his cufflinks. Next, he dug around in his nightstand drawer and pulled out several condoms and stuck them in his wallet. He looked around the room to see if he forgot anything and headed out to the living room. He turned on a single light, fed his fish and grabbed his keys. A feeling came over him, as he stood alone in his living room. His life was about to change and he wasn't sure if it was for better or worse.

Chapter 4

She had one more delivery to make at a restaurant, another dozen red roses for some lucky lady, she thought glumly. Some people have all the luck. It's not that she didn't want a boyfriend. She did. But men just never seemed to notice her. She was not beautiful, she admitted to herself, but neither was she ugly. She wasn't fat, but she wasn't skinny. She was...how did her grandma put it?...Healthy, that's it. Well, she definitely had curves. She just wished they weren't quite so ...curvy. She sighed to herself. Basically, she was average, and it seemed that men wanted extremes. But she didn't have time for men in her life right now anyway, what with the flower shop and trying to raise her little sister and take care of grandma. Maybe she was supposed to be single. After all, there were three times as many women in the world as there were men, so it seemed logical to follow that some women had to stay single. Isabelle just wished she didn't have to be one of the single ones.

She turned into the driveway of the restaurant and parked behind it. It was a nice restaurant and she thought she'd sneak in the back and let one of the waiters make the actual delivery because she was a mess. She had multiple strands of hair that had escaped the confines of her scruntchy, her jeans were dirty from her wiping her hands on them, and her white tank top (a bad choice of clothing to wear) had soil on it from holding the arrangements against her body. She took the flower arrangement in through the kitchen, looking for a gullible waiter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Antoine sat at a table in the restaurant, waiting for the drink he had just ordered. It was a couple of minutes to five and there was no sign of the man he was supposed to meet. He looked around nonchalantly to see if anyone was staring at him, but found nothing. The cocktail waitress brought him his drink and he thanked her, watching her walk away with an appreciation for her body in his eyes. As she walked into the bar, a man came out and headed straight for Antoine's table. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the grim face of the man walking towards him. The man stopped in front of him. Antoine made no move to get up.

"So, the great Antoine Laconte decided to heed my wishes and now sits before me, wondering what in the hell is going on." He slid into a chair opposite Antoine and Antoine now noticed he carried a large manila envelope with him. His eyes flicked from the envelope back to the man sitting before him.

"I know exactly what's going on. There is a name for it. It's called blackmail."

The man smiled. "You're right. I guess there's no reason to beat around the bush. We both know why I'm here. But you're probably wondering who the hell I am."

Antoine looked at him coldly. "You could say that."

"Well, does the name Shari Cavendish ring any bells?"

Antoine frowned as he thought about it. "No, I'm sorry, but I have never heard of her before."

The man across from Antoine stopped smiling. "She probably used some other name but maybe this will refresh your memory." He slid the 8 x 10 glossies out of the envelope and passed them, face down, to Antoine. Antoine carefully turned them up so that only he could see them. He saw several pictures of himself and a beautiful blonde in the midst of ....well, he knew who it was, all right.

"The woman in these pictures, I know her as Lora." He slid the photos back to the man.

"Well, Lora happens to be Shari Cavendish. Mrs. Cavendish, to be exact."

Antoine sighed. "How much do you want for the negatives?"

Mr. Cavendish gave a short laugh. "Mr. Laconte, I'm wealthy beyond most people's dreams. I don't need money."

Antoine took a sip of his drink to hide the alarm that was growing in him. He set it back down, thankful that the alcohol calmed him down a bit and asked the next question in this all-too-staged dialogue. "What exactly do you want, then?"

Mr. Cavendish gave a broad smile. "I want your services but not for my wife."

Antoine raised his eyebrows and leaned back against his chair insolently. "I'm sorry Mr. Cavendish, but I don't service men."

Mr. Cavendish went red in the face at Antoine's insinuation. "Very cute, Laconte, but I'm not talking about myself. Let me explain. I'm part of an elite group of businessmen who desire a certain politician to win the upcoming election. You don't need to know anything else but that I'm the spokesman for our group. Now, this politician is not doing well in the polls so we need to cause a disturbance in the opposing party."

"So, I'm guessing you want me to cause some sort of scandal involving the opposing party's wife and make it public."

"Very astute of you Laconte."

Antoine's eyes narrowed. "But that will expose me as well."

"Too bad. It will give you bad press but I'll keep you out of jail." Cavendish slammed back his drink, confident in his triumph.

"What if I refuse?" Antoine said slowly.

Mr. Cavendish gave him a deadpan look. "Then you'll move from your cozy, posh apartment to a cold, dreary, single cell in the state pen for I assure you, I will prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law."

Antoine fumed inside. He was caught, and had no way out. "So, what do you want me to do?"

Cavendish handed him a dinner invitation with an address on it. "The name of the opposing party is Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Kint. Mrs. Kint is devoted to her husband and it will be difficult to arrange an affair with her. But I've heard of your charms, so I'm betting that eventually, you will win her over. There is a formal dinner tonight in honour of Mr. Kint's political success, so I suggest you go there and get started."

"I can't tonight, I have prior arrangements."

"Break them." Cavendish leaned forward at the scowl on Antoine's face and tapped the envelope in front of him. "You have no choice."

Antoine sighed in defeat. "What exactly do you want?"

"I want pictures of you and Mrs. Kint, like these of my wife, delivered to me before the pre-election in two weeks.

"Two weeks?" exclaimed Antoine.

"Yes. You get me the pictures and I'll take care of the rest."

"That's not enough time."

"It will have to be enough time. If you don't deliver me the pictures, I deliver you to the police, and I'm sure they've been dying to get their hands on you."

Antoine leaned against the back of his chair. He needed a few moments to think of a way out. He pushed his chair back and stood up. "Will you excuse me for a moment?"

"Of course."

Antoine walked to the men's restroom, desperately thinking of a way out of this situation.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabelle had tried to get a waiter to take the flowers into the dinning room of the restaurant, but they were too busy to accommodate her. So she set her jaw and walked to the front desk where the hostess was.

"Excuse me" said Isabelle, "but could you tell me where Mr. And Mrs. Janston are seated? I have a delivery for them."

The hostess looked her up and down, making Isabelle feel even more inadequate, then smiled. "Of course." She consulted her seating chart. "They are seated right over there, second to the last table against the far wall."

"Thank you" replied Isabelle and she walked over to deliver the flowers. She set the flowers down in front of the lucky lady who ooh'd and ahh'd over them, noticing the elegant clothing on her and her husband and Isabelle wished she were hundreds of feet deep in the earth. She was so anxious to get away that she didn't see him as she turned around, moving quickly away. She took three steps and plowed into a wall of a man, knocking both of them backwards onto the ground. Dazed, Isabelle slowly recovered, wondering what on earth had happened. She looked up from her prone position and saw the gorgeous man she had met in the hallway earlier that day. "Oh no! I'm so sorry!" she gasped as she attempted to sit up.

"It would be helpful if you would watch where you are going before you move" he said as he sat up.

Isabelle was hurt by the rudeness of his tone and frowned slightly. "I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"

He had already stood up and was looking down at her strangely, trying to place her. A light clicked on and he suddenly remembered where he had seen her before. "Ah, the flower girl from the apartment! So we meet again." He looked away from her, brushing the dirt from his suit. He looked back down at her, realizing she was still on the floor. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

Isabelle blushed as she realized she was staring at him again. "No...I just...umm...." He silently offered her his hand to help her up. She pointedly ignored his offer and got up off the floor. "I'm fine. Don't worry yourself about me." She knew she sounded bitchy but his attitude put her off. She attempted civility as she spoke. "Did I hurt you at all?"

Antoine smiled wryly. "I'll live, I assure you."

His abruptness sparked her temper and she was having a difficult time keeping it from flaming up all together. "Look, I'll gladly pay to have your clothes dry-cleaned, I mean, it's the least I can do."

He looked her up and down, noticing her less-than-clean attire, then looked back to her face. "It's quite all right. It doesn't look like you could afford it."

Now Isabelle's temper came out. "There is no reason to be rude about this! I gave you a sincere apology and you treat me like I planned to do this just to ruin your day!"

So the meek flower girl wasn't so meek and mild after all, he thought to himself. He noted the flash of fire in her dark brown eyes and realized he didn't want to get into a skirmish with her when he had a major battle waiting for him back at his table. "All right then, apology accepted. Ciao."

He turned away and began to walk back to his table when his eyes opened wide at a sudden thought he had. A plan...He turned back quickly to see if the girl was still there and found she hadn't moved from her spot. He walked back to her, formulating the plan in his mind, when she started to turn away. He called her back, turning on the charm. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to be rude. I've had one hell of a day and took it out on you. That was wrong of me."

Isabelle turned back towards him, saying nothing, wondering at his sudden change of attitude. He saw her hesitancy and jumped on the opportunity. "I was wondering if I could make it up to you and have you do me a favour at the same time?"

Isabelle regarded him for a moment. "What kind of favour?" she asked.

Antoine put on his most beguiling smile. "I have a formal dinner function to go to this evening and I don't have a date. Of course, it isn't imperative to have a date but it is Valentine's Day and people are expected to be in couples."

Isabelle tried to fight the warm feelings that grew within her. Good lord, she thought, if he can me feel like this when he smiles at me, what would happen if he ever touched me? She found her voice. "Are you seriously asking me out?"

"Yes I am. Unless you already have a date for this evening?"

Isabelle took a small step forward. "No, no, I don't have a date or anything." She realized that a formal dinner meant expensive clothing, like the suit he wore. "I'd be glad to help you out, but I'm afraid that I wouldn't quite measure up to your standards."

He understood her concern and brushed it away with his hand. "You will be fine. I will take you shopping so that you won't feel uncomfortable and I will pay for it, sort of a 'forgive me for being rude' gift."

Isabelle still hesitated. Something was weird. Here was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen in her life asking her out. It seemed impossible that he was single. And what about that woman in the hallway earlier that day? "Where is your girlfriend?" she asked cautiously.

Antoine looked blank for a moment before catching on. "Oh, the one from today? Well, we...broke up. You saw the tail end of the argument. That's why I don't have a date for this evening."

"So I'm like a substitute-date?" she inquired.

Antoine took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "No woman is ever a substitute for another. Every one is unique in her own way. Please say yes" and he kissed the back of her hand.

Isabelle inhaled sharply as his full lips touched her skin. Now she knew what would happen when he touched her. She turned weak in the knees and found it difficult to breath as the butterflies ran amuck in her stomach. As unobtrusively as she could, she put her other hand on the back of a nearby chair to steady her self. He kept her hand near his lips waiting for an answer, watching her as her eyes went from his eyes to his mouth. He knew what her answer would be. "Yes" replied Isabelle breathily.

"Good" he said as he slowly lowered her hand. "I'll come pick you up in half an hour from...where?"

"Um...you can pick me up from The Flower Shop."

'Okay" he said as he got out pen and paper to write down the information. "What is the name of the flower shop?"

Isabelle laughed. "That is the name of it. It's called The Flower Shop, on the corner of Ash and Oak. Think you can find it?"

"Yes. I'll be there in half an hour." He took a couple of steps away from her, then once again turned back to her. "Oh, by the way, what is your name?"

She smiled demurely. "Isabelle".

He took her hand once more. "Isabelle, my name is Antoine. Antoine Laconte. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too." Isabelle was in complete awe as he slowly lowered her hand, turned and walked away. She looked around suddenly, realizing she was still in the middle of the restaurant and found people staring at her. She walked quickly towards the rear of the building to make her escape, hardly daring to believe that she just made a date with a total stranger on Valentine's Day. What would her grandmother think?

CHAPTER 5

Antoine drove away from the restaurant in his silver sports car after finishing up with Cavendish. He thought about this blackmail mess he'd gotten into. It was really a no-win situation for him, but a little public exposure was better than going to jail. He had a plan in his mind of how to go about seducing Mrs. Kint. He would use Isabelle to pass themselves off as a respectable couple in a monogamous relationship, which would allow his future seduction of Mrs. Kint to appear legitimate. What he needed to accomplish tonight was to get themselves invited over to the Kint's house for a private dinner, thus allowing him more intimate contact with Mrs. Kint. He frowned in frustration. Two weeks was not enough time to corrupt a respectable person and besides, he wasn't in to corrupting people, he was just a gigolo, nothing more. People approached him, not the other way around.

He looked at his watch. He had fifteen minutes to get to this flower shop to pick up Isabelle. He thought about her to get his mind off of Cavendish. He would have to be charming and attentive to get her unconscious cooperation. She was no great beauty, but she wasn't ugly either, at least, as far as he could tell. The two times he saw her, her hair had been a mess and she looked like she needed a change of clothes. But she definitely had a personality, if her show of temper was any indication. There was a certain spark to her that he found amusing. Which meant that tonight wouldn't be a total waste. In fact, it could be rather interesting, he thought with a sly smile.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabelle drove back to the flower shop in a daze, wondering if it had all been a dream. Talk about running into someone! And literally! She reviewed the hapless meeting and began to have second thoughts about this 'date'. It was merely a date of convenience to him and he had only asked her because he felt bad about the way he had treated her. He had been rude, she mused, but then maybe she deserved it. She was no slight little thing to run in to, standing at 5' 9" in height in bare feet. She supposed she had bruised him a bit, but she was sure she had a few bruises too. But still, why her? This was Los Angeles, home to the most beautiful women in the world. Surely, he could have found some glamorous woman to accompany him this evening. And a formal dinner? Well, she knew her table manners, having been brought up by her grandparents who came from the old school of etiquette. She was intelligent enough to hold her own in a crowd, for both of her parents had been professors at Glendale Junior College. It could actually be an interesting evening, as long as she didn't bump into anyone again, especially Antoine.

"Antoine" she said aloud, trying out the sound of it. She smiled to herself as she thought about him. Such an intense gaze from such dark brown eyes, almost the same colour as hers. As he had held her hand in his, she noticed how long and beautiful his fingers were, how perfectly shaped, and noticed the strength in his hands. His dark brown hair curled at the ends and brushed against his shoulders. His nose was long and straight, perfectly fitting his face. His goatee framed full lips, especially the bottom one, she thought, as he had kissed the back of her hand. Her mind wandered as she thought about his lips. Thoughts of those lips kissing her on other parts of her body made her shiver and she gave herself a mental shake, reminding herself that this date was a single occurrence and after tonight she would probably never see him again. Oh well, she sighed. No use wasting time on those types of daydreams. They definitely moved in different circles. One could tell that just by the clothes they both wore.

She pulled behind the shop, parked and walked into the building. Her grandmother called from the front room.

"Belle, is that you?"

"Yes grandma" and she walked into the front room of the shop. There were a couple of customers getting last minute flowers for the night and Kathleen was busy putting the arrangements together. "How are things going here?"

Her grandmother turned her attention from the customers to Isabelle. "Fine. Just cleaning up and getting ready to close for the night." Her grandmother turned back to finish up with the customers.

"Grandma, can you handle it? I need to go upstairs and change."

Grandmother looked at her quizzically. "Change? For what?"

Isabelle gave her a smile. "I'll tell you all about it when I come back down, but if a tall, dark, devastatingly handsome man comes in here, it's for me." Isabelle looked at her watch and flew up the stairs.

They lived above the shop, just a small two-bedroom flat, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen. The furniture was old and worn, a throw-back from the fifties. Knick-knacks that her grandparents had collected over the years were everywhere, along with family pictures from all stages of their lives. An old console TV stood in one corner and the family cat currently slept on top, sprawled out on her back.

"Hello Grey" said Isabelle as she walked by the cat, giving it a quick scratch on the head. She walked into the bedroom that she and Kathleen shared, her mind quickly going through her meager wardrobe. She went to the closet and grabbed the short cotton sun-dress she had decided on and walked to the bathroom. She took a quick shower, reapplied her make-up and slipped on the cotton dress over clean undergarments. She ran a brush through her hair, grimacing that she didn't have time to do something more with it, and let it hang down, the natural curl surrounding her head and shoulders in a cascade of golden red.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Down in the flower shop, grandma was counting the receipts of the day while Kathleen took phone calls for the following day's orders when Antoine opened the door and walked in. Both Grandma and Kathleen froze in their actions to watch him as he confidently walked through the shop and up to the counter.

Antoine watched their reactions to him and sighed. It seemed he always had this effect on women, no matter their age. In a way, it was sort of a disadvantage for he never knew if a woman liked him for his looks or his personality. Of course, it didn't matter for his job and it was difficult having a girlfriend in this line of work anyway. He walked up to the counter.

"Excuse me, but is Isabelle here? She's expecting me."

Grandmother recovered enough to answer him. "Why, yes, she told us you'd be here. Kathleen, can you go get your sister please?" said grandmother turning to Kathleen.

Kathleen stepped back two steps so that she was facing the stairwell that led up to their apartment and yelled. "BELLE! THERE'S SOMEONE HERE TO SEE YOU!"

Grandmother gave Kathleen a wry look. "Thank you Kathy, I could have done that myself."

Kathleen gave her an impish grin and went back to staring at Antoine. Antoine smiled genuinely at the two women. "Let me introduce myself. I am Antoine Laconte."

Grandmother extended her hand towards Antoine. "I am Rebecca Martin and this is my other granddaughter, Kathleen."

Antoine took grandmother's hand and kissed the back of it, then did the same to Kathleen's. "The pleasure is mine."

Kathleen giggled. "You don't talk like we do. How come?"

"Kathleen, mind your manners" admonished grandmother.

Antoine laughed. "It's quite all right. I'm originally from Italy but I've been here in the states for the last seven years."

"Oh" replied Kathleen.

Isabelle came down the stairs to find all three of them staring at her. She blushed faintly as she walked around in front of the counter to Antoine. "Hi" she said to him, then turned to address her grandmother. "Grandmother, this is..."

"It's all right Belle, we've already introduced ourselves. I take it you have a date tonight?" asked grandmother, whose gaze returned to Antoine.

Antoine spoke up for Isabelle. "We met today while she was making deliveries and got to talking. I explained to her that I needed an escort for an important political function that I'm attending tonight and asked her to accompany me, having broken up with my girlfriend recently. Isabelle most graciously said yes." Antoine looked down at her and Isabelle smiled up at him. She looked back at her grandmother.

"I know I told you we'd spend the evening together...."

"It's all right Belle, don't worry about us. Kathleen and I have our own plans."

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "You do?" Kathleen giggled again and Isabelle looked from her to her grandmother. "Okay you two, what's up?"

Kathleen smiled big. "I made a special valentines for Ricky and grandma and I are going to deliver it tonight, then all three of us are going to go to a movie. I already called him and his mom said it was okay." Kathleen put her hands up to her mouth, giggling into them.

Grandmother looked at Isabelle. "I'm merely the chaperone" she said as she winked at Isabelle.

Isabelle laughed. "Okay then, you two have fun. I'll see you later."

"Have fun Belle. Nice to have met you Antoine."

"The pleasure was mine" said Antoine as he put his hand on Isabelle's elbow to guide her out of the shop. Grandmother called after them.

"I won't wait up for you Belle" and she winked at Antoine. Isabelle blushed furiously and gave her grandma a playful but dirty look as Antoine escorted her out the shop.

"I'm sorry about that last crack that grandma made" said Isabelle as he helped her into the car. Antoine walked around to his side and got behind the wheel. He put the key in the ignition then turned to look at her. "I'm not" he said and turned the ignition on. Isabelle smiled and looked away as they took off down the street. Antoine merged with traffic as they sat in silence for a while. Finally Antoine spoke up.

"So, you introduced yourself to me as Isabelle but your family calls you Belle. Which do you prefer?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter to me. I guess whatever you are comfortable with" said Isabelle amicably.

"Belle in French means beautiful" said Antoine as an afterthought.

And I'm no beauty, thought Isabelle. She watched him drive and noticed he seemed preoccupied so she left him alone with his thoughts. She turned to look out the window, noticing the change in the architecture as they entered an expensive part of town. Antoine pulled up in front of a formal-wear shop, parked the car and started to get out of the car, as did Isabelle. She felt a firm grip on her arm as he pulled her back into the car. She gave Antoine a startled look. "What?" she asked in alarm.

"I will come around and escort you out of the car."

Isabelle smiled. "That's so sweet of you but really it's okay. I can let myself out" and once again she tried to step out of the car.

Antoine pulled her back once more and said more firmly, "This you will let me do now and always. Do you understand?"

Isabelle shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, whatever" and she closed her door. She watched Antoine get out of the car and walk around to her side, thinking that maybe this superior etiquette attitude was a European thing. Oh well, she thought to herself, whatever turned your crank. He opened her door and held out his hand. She took his proffered hand as he helped her out of the car, closing the door behind her, and escorted her into the shop.

As they walked in, a short, older man in a tuxedo walked up to them. "Ah, Bienvenuto Antoine!" he exclaimed.

"Good day to you also, Alessandro" said Antoine as they shook hands.

"And who is this lovely lady at your side, eh?" Alessandro winked at Antoine.

"It's not what you think, Alessandro, so don't go there. This is Isabelle" Antoine said.

"Ah, Bello Isabelle! Then what can I do for both of you this fine afternoon?"

"We need some formal wear for this evening. Can you accommodate us?"

"As I usually do Signore Antoine. For a small fee, of course".

Antoine laughed. "Your fees are never small, Alessandro, but you're the best."

"Grazie signore. Now, let's see what we can do for you." Alessandro called to the back in a rapid stream of Italian and clapped his hands twice. Three employees came out, two women and one man. He motioned them over to Antoine and Isabelle, another swift stream of Italian issuing from his mouth. One of the women asked him a question and Alessandro turned to Antoine.

"What exactly do you want for the Signora?"

Antoine looked down at Isabelle for a moment then back to Alessandro. "I want the best thing you have for her. Money is no object tonight." Alessandro repeated his answer in Italian to the two women, who smiled and took Isabelle by the hands, leading her towards the evening gowns. Isabelle looked back to Antoine, a questioning look in her eyes.

"It's all right. Trust them. And don't worry about the price tag." He smiled encouragingly to her and Isabelle walked on with them. Antoine turned back to Alessandro. "Make sure she has everything she needs to go along with the dress, including hair and make-up. I'll be back in an hour" and he started to walk out of the shop.

"But Signore, what about you?" said Alessandro.

Antoine turned back to him. "I have some unfinished business that I must take care of. You know my measurements. Pick out something that will compliment whatever Isabelle decides on."

Alessandro bowed. "As you wish." Antoine walked out the door.

Isabelle allowed herself to be taken into a back room where the two women promptly removed her dress and shoes. They quickly took her measurements and shoe size then walked out into the main room. Isabelle stood there, feeling awkward in her near-nakedness. She hoped that Alessandro wouldn't think it his duty to check on her at this point. The two women returned with several long gowns, undergarments, stockings and shoes. They chattered to themselves in Italian as they finished undressing Isabelle completely, unaware of the several shades of red washing across her face as she stood, embarrassed at her nakedness. But the women got to their work, helping her into a strapless bustier and underwear. Then came the stockings and garter belt, which was a new experience for Isabelle. She had never used items like this before, never had a need to. These undergarments were made of silk and lace and as she looked at herself in the mirror, she thought she had never looked and felt so feminine before. No wonder men loved Fredericks of Hollywood, she mused.

The two women caught her attention by holding up four dresses and showing them to her, asking her a question in Italian. She could only surmise that they were asking for her preference of dress. She gazed at all of them, finding each one lovely in its own way, but felt herself drawn to the dark green velvet dress. Isabelle pointed to it and the two women argued back and forth to each other good-naturedly, which Isabelle could only guess that they had taken a bet as to which dress she would choose.

They helped her into the dress, zipping it up and tweaking it here and there, providing green velvet shoes to match as a finishing touch. Isabelle looked in the mirror, taken back at what she saw. The bodice of the dress was very form fitting, showing off her cleavage with a princess-cut neckline, and small puffed sleeves that fell off her shoulders. The skirt part of the dress started out snuggly around her hips then flaring out wide at the bottom, leaving a small train behind her. She did a little twirl and marveled as the material swung out from her legs, showing her ankles before settling back down against her. She gave a bright smile to the two ladies, who nodded in agreement, then came up to her, touching her hair and face. They led her out of the back room and over to a small salon station and motioned for her to sit down. One of the women started on her hair as the other one got out make-up. Isabelle sat back in the chair, enjoying this precious moment of being pampered and catered to, hoping the rest of the evening would be just as wonderful.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Antoine drove as fast as he safely could to Miss Audrey's estate and, finding that the front gate was open, zoomed up her driveway. He got out and strode quickly up to the door, pressing the bell. The butler answered the door.

"Ah, Mr. Laconte! Miss Audrey wasn't expecting you until 9 p.m." he said as Antoine walked past him into the house.

"I realize that but I must speak with her now. It's urgent."

"Right this way Mr. Laconte." Antoine followed the butler to the parlour where he found Miss Audrey lounging on a divan.

"Well, my pet, this is indeed a surprise! You're early! Just couldn't stand to be away from me, could you?" she said as she motioned for him to sit across from her.

Antoine looked at her, as she lay reclined on the divan. She had salt and pepper hair done up in a perfect bun at the nape of her neck and her make-up was merely her day-wear, not her evening seduction look. She had some wrinkles on her face, those that laser surgery couldn't take care of and her body was in fairly good shape. Not young and firm like most of his clients, but what she could do with her body more than made up for its lack of perfectness. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together in a gesture of thoughtfulness. "Miss Audrey, I have a favour to ask of you."

Miss Audrey raised her eyebrows. "A favour? Usually I ask you for favours."

He smiled at her sense of humour, which was never lacking. "I have to ask you to please accept a rain check for this evening."

Miss Audrey frowned a bit. "A rain check? Antoine, I've never known you to back out of your commitments."

He spread his hands apart. "I know, I know, but due to circumstances beyond my control, I find that tonight I'm not able to keep my commitments."

She waved to her butler, who was waiting to serve both of them their usual drinks. Miss Audrey picked hers up off the tray and took a drink before speaking. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

Antoine took his drink down with one gulp, then looked at her. "I'm being blackmailed."

Miss Audrey gave an audible gasp. "Blackmailed? By whom?"

"By a certain Mr. Cavendish. It seems that he caught his wife and myself in bed together and he has the pictures to prove it."

"Antoine, how could you let yourself get caught?" admonished Miss Audrey.

Antoine gave her a steady look as he answered. "I didn't get caught. I was set up."

"Set up? How?"

"You know I rarely go to someone else's house, especially if they are married. You are an exception to my rule" he smiled at her. Then he continued. "But this client was one of my regulars and she gave me some excuse as to why she couldn't come to my apartment that night. I remember thinking it was a lame excuse but she offered me time and a half for payment, so I went to her house. Her husband must have hidden a camera in the room and he caught us. The thing is" continued Antoine as he stood up and paced about the room "he could care less if his wife gets exposed to the public. I'm the one that cares, but more than that, he's threatened to go to the police if I don't' cooperate with him."

"What does he want you to do?"

Antoine gave her a frustrated look. "I'm to seduce the wife of a political leader."

"Which one?" prodded Miss Audrey.

"Mr. Thomas Kint."

"Ah, I know the Kints quite well. Hmm...She's very devoted to her husband. It won't be easy."

"I've heard. And I only have two weeks. So tonight I'm to go to the governor's Valentine Ball and start my seduction of her. That's why I ask you to let me out of my commitment to you tonight."

Miss Audrey moved her legs aside and patted the area of the divan that she just cleared for him to sit down. Antoine sat next to her as she sat up. She looked at him fondly.

"I'll let you out of your engagement to me tonight because I like you. And it's more than just sex. You're a good friend to an old southern belle like me. You always take the time to listen to the ramblin's of an old woman."

"You are not old..." began Antoine but she cut him off with a laugh.

"Yes I am! But you're quite the gentleman to argue that point with me." Her smiled faded. "Be careful Antoine. I know of this Cavendish and he's not fun to deal with. Just do what he says, get it over with and go on with life. I'll collect your debt to me when it's over, okay?"

Antoine smiled and took her hands in his. "I appreciate this very much, Miss Audrey." He gave her a kiss on the cheek and stood up to leave. She stopped him at the door with her voice.

"If you need anythin', come see me. I still have some connections that might be useful to you."

"I'll keep that in mind." The butler opened the door of the parlour and led Antoine out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabelle was just getting the finishing touches applied to her make up when Antoine walked back into the shop. He glanced her way to make sure she was all right and saw the two women fussing over her. He smiled to himself as Alessandro came up and led him to the changing room. Alessandro had picked out a black, new-wave tuxedo, having a mandarin collar with an enamel button instead of a bow-tie, which Antoine preferred. The vest was dark green, which he suspected matched Isabelle's dress and had silver scroll work on it. Alessandro finished dressing him while the other male attendant dealt with Antoine's hair. Antoine looked at his watch. It was 7:15 and the dinner started at 8 o'clock. "Alessandro, it's getting late. We need to get going."

"Of course. We're almost finished" replied Alessandro as the attendant tied Antoine's shoes.

Antoine followed Alessandro out of the dressing room and paid what he owed for the rental garments, leaving Alessandro a generous tip.

"Ah, grazie signore" Alessandro said with a bow. Antoine heard the two Italian women chatting as they came up to the men. As he turned their way, they parted to reveal Isabelle in all her glory. The dress worked to the advantage of her hourglass figure and her hair was piled on top of her head in a cloud of loose ringlets. They had applied her makeup expertly, every shade made to enhance her features to the best of their abilities. She felt like Cinderella at the ball in that moment.

Isabelle blushed as Antoine's eyes roamed over her, a smile of appreciation on his face as he noticed the form-fitting dress clinging to her figure, the beaded velvet choker that gracefully circled her long neck, and her hair done up so that she looked like a Victorian fashion plate. He stepped up to her. "I shall definitely call you Belle."

Isabelle, trying to hide her embarrassment, looked him over. "You don't look too bad yourself" she said with a smile. He laughed at that remark and Isabelle melted at the sound of it. If only...she thought, but gave a mental shake, for just as Cinderella had until midnight, she, too, would only have this night with him.

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