Eunoia – Between Feuds as a Fake Heiress

rself off and offers a hand. He pulls her in, causing Isabelle to lose balance and fall atop of him. He smells strongly of alcohol and cigarettes. She clenches her fists, her face red with anger.

Oh, delightful.

”This is nice. ” His hot breath tickles her ear. She flicks his forehead. How shed love to leave him be. She doesn understand how she wanted to leave him, yet stay. If they switched places, would he do the same or worse?

Whatever. This isn the time for idle thoughts.

”Get up! ” Isabelle shouted as she slaps his cheeks. Hearing no audible response, she rolls her eyes and roughly drags him by the shoulders to the nearest wall. He mumbles words she couldn make out. Isabelle huffs. She fishes his pockets for his phone, earning a reaction from him.

”Hey! We can do that… here! ” Tristan hugs himself and tries to inch away from her. Isabelle slaps his arm, her lips pressed together. She finds five missed calls from an unregistered contact and a message. No idea what his password is. Whomever they are, theyd have to be his rescue for tonight.

”No! You
e my friend! ” He cries, covering his face.

Isabelle sighed. Its gotten this bad. Hes totally wasted. Hed normally make stupid, flirty comments. It makes her wonder what exactly their relationship is.

Open, playful flirty jokes tossed back and forth but they
e good friends. He knows too much to back out of the friendship now.

”Damn… feisty! ” Tristan grins, smiling to himself with his eyes closed. His expression reminds her of a fox, about to drift to sleep. Nevermind, hes fine. Isabelle places the back of her hand on his neck. Hes burning up.

”Are you feeling all right? ” Isabelle wipes beads of sweat off his face. The answer is clear, talking is her attempt to keep him from falling asleep.

”You make me feel good! ” Tristan cups his face with his hands. Isabelle rolls her eyes. Her worries were for nothing.

She dials the most frequent name on his call log, Stephen, but receives no answer. She sent a text explaining what happened. Now what? She couldn exactly carry him alone, nor did she know anyone else here. The bartender, Allen, is busy. Just as Isabelle racks her brain cells, trying to come up with an answer, Tristans phone goes off.

”Hello? Tristan? ”

Hello, handsome. Isabelle doesn recognize this voice. Is this Stephen? He sounds much older. He can be an Uncle or relative, she met most of them already.

”Hes… asleep. Can you come to pick him up? He isn sober. ” She explains. Ah, he could just be a friend. Maybe a neighbor? Asking Tristan won do much. Hed make up a story and run with it. She should have just called his girlfriend or his boyfriend, but Isabelle isn sure which name to call. She may end up calling a workmate of his and thats embarrassing.

”Yes, of course. Ill be there. ”

After half an hour, he arrives. Isabelle drapes the jacket over the blonde, now fast asleep, before facing the newcomer.

To say hes charming is an understatement. He owns the room just by walking in.

Hes much more mature and lean, wearing only a gray hoodie and jeans. Unlike Tristan, he has a nice tan, thick eyelashes, and warm brown eyes. She keeps the staring to a minimum. Isabelle doesn want to come across as some weirdo.

”Nice to meet you. ” Isabelle squares her shoulders.

How is this hunk acquainted with Tristan? She doesn recall meeting him before. He smiles in response, cupping her delicate hands into his. Goodness, his hands were soft. And that face! His outfit is simple, but how did he make it look expensive?

”Isabelle, thank you. I apologize we had to meet under this… situation. ” His voice is lusciously deep. That phone call from earlier didn do him any justice. Isabelle returns the gesture, feeling conscious of herself. He spoke like a gentleman.

She wishes his attitude would rub off of Tristan more. Hed act less like a drunken fool and less like himself if he did, though.

Stephens eyes fall on him, now lying down on the pavement. She watches his attempts at waking their friend. Tall, kind and handsome. Stephen fits that description to a T. She doesn see the resemblance.

”Now he decides to sleep. ” Isabelle huffs. He carries Tristan on his back with ease. She silently gushes at the sight, trying to sneak a picture. How sweet!

”Do you…mind if I? ” Stephen motions to a car nearby then to Tristan on his back. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and nods. If only she could switch spots with Tristan right now. There didn seem to be any other option, honestly.

”Where are your keys? ” She asked, walking beside him. He stops in his tracks. Isabelle can wait to send the picture to Chloe once she got home. No! She doesn have permission. Just a personal keepsake then.

”My… back pocket, I believe. ” Stephen furrows his eyebrows and looks around. Isabelle stuck her hand in his pocket, feeling much tighter than she expected. The thin material didn help. She wiggles her hand around. It feels nice. Comparing her frame to his, shes a midget. Even with heels, she barely reaches his shoulders.

”You may remove your hand. ” Stephen chuckles. She rubs her wrist, his car keys in her hand. Isabelle saw an opportunity and took it. She makes a mental note to remember this.

”Im sorry. ”

She presses a button, a red Chevrolet lights up. She shouldn have done that. Now shed come across as some creep! No brownie points now. She opens the car and helps Tristan into the backseat. Stephen starts the engine and turns off the radio.

”Id like to give you a lift, Isabelle. ” Stephen opens the door for her. Isabelle raises her hands. Oh, handsome and kind? She must be dreaming. No, not after what she did. Thatd be shameless.

”Its all right! Really. I brought my car. ” Isabelle smiles sheepishly. Damn it, she shouldn have. How would she stall? Pretend to feel sick? She racks her brain for ideas.

”I see. In that case… ” Stephen pulls out a pen and scribbles onto a small piece of paper. He faces Isabelle and places a folded silk handkerchief in her hands. She looks at him in confusion. Is this his lawyers details? Will he sue her? Is she going to disappear without a trace? Isabelle swallows slowly.

What if hes some super rich and powerful guy and will try to kidnap her? No way. Tristan wouldn be friends with someone like that.

Probably.

”Thank you, Isabelle. Take care. ” Stephen said. Wait, what? She nods. She watches their car drive off before getting into her own.

She stares at her hand. Did that just happen? She covers her face with her hands and squeals.

Isabelle holds the hankie to her face, taking in the smell of faint sandalwood. A piece of paper falls out of the hankie and onto her lap. She skims it and sighs, caught in a daydream. Oh, hes her type all right.

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