Authors Note:- Hi! I know right, i'm not dead. No one faint in shock. To cut a long story short, I injured myself just over 3 years ago and developed FMS, it's made writing a little difficult. However, my bestie sinister-scribe bought me a wireless keyboard and I am currently back up and running. Woohoo! So many many waffles to her! I have many chapters of new and old stories (shadow of the night being a main one) that I have written, although I need to read and repair them as I hope my writing skills have improved since their original typing. Big thanks to Peet for beta-ing all my stuff and a big bunch of cookies to every one who kept pushing me to continue writing. (I'm about to delve into the swan/queen universe too...so hopefully I'll have something for that Fandom soon.) - Anyway, new fic YAY. Hope you enjoy it!

*dances* - I've missed this!

Flitt x

p.s - I'm English btw so here words such as 'apologise' are spelt with an s. I don't care what spell check sayz :P.

pps - This chapter suddenly vanished of fan-fiction. I have no idea why. Then it suddenly reappeared again an hour later - *Face Plant*. To save future panic I shall be taking all the M rated scenes to A03 (of all my stories) once my account is set up, just to put my mind at ease. I can't keep up with the changing age of maturity lol.

Beauties and the Beast

Life hadn't been easy after Runway. Nate went to Boston and she was left with a rent rate her current journalist's salary could never afford. She tried to find other flats, but they were priced too high, too far from work, or in an area so shady she would barely be able to sleep soundly.

So she'd taken on another job.

It was briefly suggested to her in jest from a friend at work. Jokingly saying the money these women raked in was beyond believable. Commissioned to write an article on it, Andy had discovered it wasn't as seedy as it seemed. She had made many contacts and due to her positive attitude and honest approached had managed to gain a degree of respect from everyone in the industry. She'd approached her article with a level-headed view point; determined to avoid the derogatory and biased attitude driven home by most of the daily rags that littered the streets. Andy hadn't written this article to entertain. It had been riveting for sure but she'd wanted to get the honest angle across to her readers. Her aim hadn't been to tart up the industry and make it sordid in sex but to gain an accurate insight and shine a light on a position of employment so incorrectly interpreted in the past.

Andy was an escort. A glamour girl that stayed on the heel of the man who hired her, an aide to provide something pretty and drop intelligent comments in the conversation when required.

And that was all.

No sex. Of course many girls went beyond the definition of an escort but that was their personal choice. They liked the men they met and were willing to gain pleasure from the position of work, and why not? Andy's agency, while not advising against it, left the choice totally open. The contract though, was adamantly clear. They would go out with the man, wear what was selected, speak when spoken too and gather the remainder of the payment once the evening came to a close. A deposit was put in place to reserve the girl they selected and the rest of the cash came at the end of the assignment, usually without issue.

Andy had yet to meet a man who refused to pay. Sure some had expected to get a little more for their money, but they had read and signed the contract and agreed to the terms. That meant extra-curricular activities were at her discretion. Before booking it was made clear to the client that she wouldn't be providing any. Still a few men had attempted to cross the line. Some found the opportunity to seduce exciting but their charm offensive failed each and every time. The others hired her for her intelligence and beauty. Andy didn't see it herself, but she'd been complimented many times on her eyes and her looks as a whole. Sure she'd never live up to Runway women, but she had confidence in her appearance and her self-esteem had healed since her abandonment of Miranda many months ago.

The memory still stung. Andy was ashamed of her behavior, especially after her excellent reference. She shouldn't have left like that. It was an act that couldn't be labelled as anything but purely unprofessional. She couldn't help but berate herself for abandoning Miranda the day after her marriage collapsed, but she couldn't, and part of her wouldn't, apologise. She'd considered writing a letter but had quickly dismissed the thought. She would never see Miranda again. If Andy ever got to a level that meant they revolved in the same circles, it would be many years down the line. By then Miranda probably wouldn't even remember her. She was an inconsequential assistant who was nothing more than a boring blip on the editor's radar. Andy sighed turning back to her desk.

She had a guy tonight.

It was Friday evening and all she had left to do was finish the last line of her article and fire it off to her boss before she could go.

No one knew about her extra curricular activity and she wanted it that way. It was easier to avoid the scathing opinions she was sure to be faced with. Although, keeping a secret did make her relationship with her work colleagues a little distant. She lied to them. Many stories had been invented to avoid evenings out when she had work. It was hard. Keeping up with the lies was even harder but she had succeeded so far, just. She'd almost slipped up on a single occasion but had quickly saved herself by dragging everyone's attention to another matter and relaxing as her slip up sailed by undetected. They all got together in the mornings for a quick chat before they dispersed and did their daily tasks. It was a friendly atmosphere. Andy had been met by a little hostility when she'd first arrived. She'd been the new competition on articles and positions but after everyone had gotten to know her she'd been assimilated into most of the group pretty quickly. The rest spoke to her on a respectable level and that was all Andy asked for.

Finishing off her article in a flurry she scanned it before mailing it to her boss, quickly closing her computer down.

'You out tonight?' Kate leaned over. She was sat opposite Andy everyday and was far more forthcoming with conversation than Emily had ever been.

'Yep I am, you?

'Nah, night in with wine and chocolates.'

'Sounds too good to be true.'

'Probably will be. I'm sure my mother will call or something and keep me on the phone for a couple of hours.'

'Switch it off.'

'I can't, I worry. It's okay though, I don't mind it, much. It's nice to talk, and I can still eat chocolates while chatting,' she laughed, 'so who you out with tonight then?'

'Oh just an old friend, haven't seen him in a while so I don't know what it will be like. I'm just helping him out. Needs a friend to attend a work do with him and I offered.' It was close enough to the truth that Andy could easily create a plausible story about her evening when asked how it went next week.

'Oh that sounds fun.'

'Yeah shouldn't be too bad. I'd prefer the chocolates though if I'm honest.'

'I'll save you some for Monday.'

'Sounds good I'll see you then.' She slung her bag over her shoulder.

'Yeah see yah hun, have fun.'

'You too, night Kate.'

'Night.' She waved as Andy walked away, her attention returning to her computer screen.

Andy had, had two hours to get ready. An hour and a half later she was dressed in the dress that had been sent over to her two days ago. It was black, which Andy had no objection to. The low cut front however was something a little too risqué for her to be truly comfortable in but, as always, the customer came first.

Now she was sitting with a half empty glass of wine, mulling the evening over. It was a ball of some sort that much she knew. What it was in celebration of she didn't know. She'd have to wait until she arrived. Casting a glance at the clock, she downed her Dutch courage and shifted her dress for the hundredth time to check the securing tape was in place. It was even lower cut at the back and barely tickled the top of her ass. A small diamond on a platinum chain dangled down between her shoulder blades attached to two thin straps over her shoulders. Gathered in at the waist it then flowed to the floor and clung to her legs as she walked. It outlined every curve, coating her body in silk.

Grabbing her clutch she swung a shawl over her shoulders hiding her appearance to the many members of the New York streets. She would take it off minutes before her arrival. There was no need to give everyone an eyeful. The dress already gave away a lot about the man who'd hired her; he liked to look. She just hoped he'd keep his hands to himself. She didn't wish to spend the evening fending off his advances, but she had a feeling she might be met with another one aiming to prove their own irresistibility. She sighed. The seduction attempts were the low light of this job, but she needed the money. For the first time in forever her finances were in the green and her rent was fully paid without complaint. She intended to keep it that way.

Scooping her keys up, she ran the check list in her head to ensure she had everything before darting out the door. Checking the locks she flew out onto the busy streets. She'd have to take a taxi. Swinging her arm out wide, she smiled as a yellow cab pulled up to the curb. Drawing the address out of her bag she read it to the driver as she slipped in the back.

Nerves crawled in her belly as the car pulled away from the curb. She always hated the moment before they met. Andy wasn't a natural escort. She was constantly checking herself and mentally going over everything expected of her to ensure she never made a mistake. She didn't bow down to men very well, but when they were paying for her she had to fulfill their every request. She had no choice but to keep to the rules of her contract. With every man she never knew what to expect, but she entered this one with a sense of foreboding. She could only hope she was mistaken.

Her night couldn't have turned out any worse.

On her arrival she'd felt a sense of panic as she took bright lights and fashion icons flocking to the cameras. She'd recognised the celebration, the name related to her Runway days. This was Miranda's world. She'd reluctantly stepped into the throng, casting a fleeting wish that this event wasn't a current highlight in the editor's social calendar. Blinded by the sporadic flashes dancing around her eyes she'd rushed ahead desperate to extricate her-self from the lime light. In her haste she'd barely registered the people passing, pressing on-wards. Almost at her meeting point she'd eagerly darted up the final few steps, only to come face to face with Stephen.

Her momentary prayers had been shattered within seconds. She'd hoped he'd only approached her after recognising her from her Runway days, but no such luck.

He'd hired her.

He was the man that held a vast amount of money over her head this evening. This was the man that would be paying part of her bills this month, and the man that was still married to Miranda.

Andy knew full well the divorce wasn't finalised. The amount of crap that was slung about in the press almost every other day was violent and distasteful and mostly from his side. He'd launched a full blown attack on Andy's ex-boss and no matter how horrible the woman was to her assistants Andy couldn't and wouldn't believe half the accusations this man had levied. In all honesty Andy felt sorry for her.

Though right now, all she felt was sick. His eyes had roved over her immediately and the uncomfortable feeling about her outfit had only intensified. The thought that he'd selected the gown with her in mind made her stomach roll. She steeled herself under his gaze, burying her emotions beneath her makeup. He was looking at her with far more interest than was acceptable from a married man, albeit a separated one. She felt dirty.

Andy blinked as a camera fired in her face. They all knew who he was and after this evening they'd all have ascertained who she was too. She was doomed. Miranda would hunt her down and beat her to death with the book; bleeding on it be damned. Then again she might use her bare hands, or the heel of her Loboutins. The options were endless.

Slamming her hand up she blocked her face from view, eyeing up the sleazy little man now positioned far to close for comfort.

'Good evening Andy, or should I say Andrea.'

So he knew. She fought a shudder, repulsion rippling over her in waves. Ever the professional she forced herself to form an answer, calming her tone so it didn't sound like an accusation, 'You know who I am then?'

'It took me a moment I must admit. I scanned the book twice until I finally figured out where I remembered your face from. After that I had to have you. I must say, your photo doesn't do you justice.' His roving eyes drove his comment home, a smirk curling into his lips.

Andy's left hand came up to clutch her arm trying to rub away the chill now clinging to her skin.

'Cold?'

She wasn't, but she wished to move as far away from the press as possible so she nodded, 'I'd like to head inside, if that's okay?'

'Of course,' Placing his hand on her back he turned her in the direction of the camera forcing her to face the constant onslaught of flashing lights as he guided her slowly up the steps, smiling directly at every member of the press. He was clearly attempting to get as many images of them together as possible. She felt dizzy. She couldn't kill the suspicion she was being bought as another pawn within their marriage. Another painful blow to Miranda's ego as the battle continued between them. It must have made his day when he'd seen her image. His plan to have an attractive, seemingly 'willing' woman by his side seduced by his sleaze with ease had only escalated onto a higher scale. What better than an ex assistant and to top it off she was the one that walked away.

Andy had escaped Miranda's wrath before, but she wouldn't after this. She'd be blackballed for sure. Miranda would no doubt engulf her in the fires of hell, and the opportunity to explain would never arise.

The only saving grace was Andy wouldn't have to acknowledge her face to face. She would deal with the backlash from the photos tomorrow. Tonight she only had to survive the humiliation and act as though she was interested in this lowly little man. She could do this. Andy had survived far worse. After Runway she could do anything, right?

Stepping away she increased the distance between his clammy hand and her skin, hoping to avoid his touch as often as possible. Speeding up her step she ducked her head down low and inched her way inside. He was hot on her heels. Feeling his arm link into hers she fought back the involuntary need to flinch from his touch and forced her head up high. Adjusting her dress and pasting a smile on her face, she put her best Jimmy Choo forward. Unaware the nightmare had only just begun.

Andy had lost track of her champagne intake. It was an unwritten rule not to get drunk on the job but in this instance Andy didn't care. Stephen was as lecherous as Andy had imagined and he didn't keep his hands off her for more than a few minutes. How did Miranda stomach this for three years? He was like an octopus. Did Miranda let him touch her like this? She blinked, stomach flip flopping uncomfortably at the thought. The image in her head descended into a forbidden arena and an unwelcome scene began to play out. It upset her more than she'd ever expected. Licking her lips to dispel their dryness, she dismissed the invasion of Miranda's private life from her mind. She had no wish to delve into such territory involving her ex boss and her husband.

Andy's eyes roamed over the crowd currently milling around them. Stephen's free arm folded over a vacuous blond hovering by his side seemingly attentive to his every word. She was welcome to him. Andy wondered if he'd always been like this. Through three years of marriage had Miranda willingly subjected herself to him knowing his hands spent half their life roving over the bodies of other women? The thought made her tummy twist as anger began to boil in her stomach. While she hadn't been integrated in their divorce Andy hadn't given the issues between them much thought but now she'd been inadvertently dragged into it and Andy could not understand what Miranda had seen in this man.

Miranda surpassed him in every possible way. When Miranda walked into a room every eye was on her. Half of them wished they were her, the others wished they were her other half. Yet Stephen had cast her aside like she wasn't worth the effort. Andy wasn't deluded. She knew Miranda wasn't an easy woman to like or love but to treat her with such outright disrespect made Andy unintentionally hostile towards him.

Clenching her fist slightly, she commanded herself to calm. She allowed herself a moment to float on the lingering champagne-haze hovering at the edge of her senses. She needed some space. Summoning up a neutral expression Andy forced her-self to touch his arm in a relatively romantic gesture as she extricated herself from his side under the premise of going to get a drink.

It didn't take long. She'd downed one upon discovery of a waiter with a laden tray, and snatched another for the road. With her champagne in hand she orbited around the edge of the floor. The constant chatter and fake laughter echoed as constant cacophony from all corners of the room. Friends and enemies alike socialised over half full glasses and empty conversation as they all revolved around the rich inner circle of unique clientele. A clientele Andy had only ever entered on the hems of other high fliers.

She didn't belong here. Still, deep down, it felt comforting to return. To remember her time within Runway and everything she'd walked away from. This was what she'd abandoned. There was something about it Andy couldn't deny she missed. Maybe it was Miranda. Andy gave a silent laugh, her head shaking to the side. It was easy to deny it. As the minutes ticked by she sunk further into shadows, slowly sipping her champagne. Left alone with her memories of those few months, a sense of emptiness seemed to echo under her skin. She'd lost something, left something. A piece of her would always feel content within this world, and it remained with Runway, with Miranda.

Andy cast a glance at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed. She'd avoided him for as long as she felt was feasible. With a sigh she ducked down and dove into the glittering crowd, reluctantly returning to his side. She couldn't deny the fact he owned her for the evening. The thought made her skin crawl. Still she had bills to pay so by his side was where she'd remain for the rest of the evening, much to her despair. She was now well on her way to drunk. With one downed drink and the other in her hand over half empty it was no surprise she barely sensed a pair of cool blue eyes boring into her back.