"There was no fucking way I was going in through the main entrance. That place is like Grand Central at this time of the day. If the story had hit the...wires I'd stick out like a penguin in a sauna. Not that I didn't stick out anyway. When I waltzed in it was like the parting of the red sea because I looked like a flame-haired Jezebel on crack. A walking talking pion to the sexual female and the extravagant nature of being totally fuckable for men, women, and Buzz Lightyear.I wondered what. “Just call me Xav, and you are…,” he asked. “Izzy,” I answered. “Izzy…you certainly don’t look like an Izzy. Is that short for Izabelle?” he prompted. “Izabella,” I mumbled. Xav leaned back against the couch. His crisp, linen shirt pulled taut across his, in my opinion, massive chest. He just sat there; sat there staring at me. I almost felt like I was a science project, like he was studying me. By the time he spoke again, my stomach was in knots. “I prefer Bella…yes…Bella. You look more. More

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