Chapter 7: Chapter Seven

Antonia's POV.

As Gabriel and I walked hand in hand out of the agency, I couldn't ignore the feeling of all eyes on us. The clicking of cameras and murmurs of the spectators reminded me that every move we made would now be scrutinized.

While I was grateful for Gabriel's intervention and how he had made Celia look like a fool, I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of nervousness.

Everything was becoming so real now, and I knew that from this moment on, my career, my identity, and every achievement I had worked so hard for would forever be tied to Gabriel Wilson.

I could already envision the headlines, the media speculation, and the public's relentless scrutiny. In the world of modeling, I was no stranger to criticism, shame, and being judged by my peers for the way I navigated my career. But facing the scrutiny of millions of people who would now look for a reason to tear me down was an entirely different ball game.

As Gabriel led me to the waiting car, I let out a sigh of relief, grateful to finally escape the judgmental eyes in the agency. I wasn't usually the type to be easily fazed or intimidated, but next to Gabriel, I felt insignificant, a mere speck in his spotlight. The weight of that reality made me feel small and somewhat overwhelmed.

Once we settled inside the car, his observant eyes caught on to my demeanor, sensing that something was amiss. "Antonia, are you okay?" he asked.

I hesitated, not wanting to burden him with my inner apprehensions. I plastered a smile on my face and nodded in response. "I'm fine. Just a little tired," I replied, my voice meant to convey confidence despite the turmoil inside.

Gabriel seemed to buy my lie, and I exhaled silently in relief. Just when I thought the conversation would end there, he surprised me by asking if I would be up for having dinner with him tonight.

He mentioned that he had already made a reservation at a fancy restaurant but was willing to cancel if I didn't feel like it. My mind was still racing, trying to process everything that had happened, but I couldn't deny the pang of curiosity that arose in me.

I sighed, trying to gather my thoughts before responding. "I don't mind having dinner with you, " I said. "But if we're going to make this whole charade seem realistic and not just a public display, then we need to be more normal."

He turned to me, confusion etched on his face. "What do you mean? How is dinner at a restaurant not normal?"

I took a deep breath, gathering the courage to express my thoughts. I turned to face him directly, making sure my words would be heard loud and clear. "If we want the media and the public to believe that we're really in a relationship, then we have to show them a different side of us. Going on extravagant dates at expensive places will only attract more attention and make people think it's all for show."

I paused for a moment, gathering my thoughts before continuing, "Instead, we should start with simple dates, where we go to local restaurants where there are other people around. If the paparazzi happen to find us in those more casual settings, it will make our fake relationship more believable to the public."

Gabriel let out a sigh. "I have to admit, Antonia, I don't really know any local restaurants. I've never even been to one," he confessed.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his response, a mixture of annoyance and amusement bubbling inside me. "Of course you wouldn't," I muttered under my breath, my words laced with sarcasm. "You've always had it all—the rich and pampered life. It doesn't surprise me that you're unfamiliar with something as simple as a local restaurant."

A slight change in Gabriel's demeanor caught my attention, a flicker of hurt crossing his eyes. I quickly realized that my words may have struck a chord with him, but he shook off the momentary vulnerability, putting on a facade of indifference as he asked, "Well, do you have any suggestions then?"

I couldn't help but soften my tone, realizing that my comment may have been too harsh. "Yes, I do have some suggestions," I replied, my voice gentle yet firm. "But before we discuss that, I'd prefer if you didn't show up to the dinner all suited up like you are right now. I'd like for you to dress as casually as possible."

He furrowed his brows in confusion. "Casually? How casual do I have to be?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I contemplated my response. "Well, it wouldn't be bad if you wore shorts or sweatpants," I suggested with a playful glint in my eyes. "Basically, anything comfortable that doesn't scream formal would work just fine."

Gabriel's confusion deepened, his brows furrowing even more. "Shorts or sweatpants?" he repeated, clearly taking in my suggestion.

I nodded, amusement flickering in my eyes. "Yes, Gabriel. It's all about showing a different side, a more relaxed and down-to-earth version of ourselves. This will help sell the authenticity of our relationship to the public."

He pondered my words for a moment before a mischievous smile played on his lips. "Alright then, if that's what you think will work," he replied, his eyes sparkling. “Does this mean I have to drop you off at home so you can get changed as well?” he asked.

“I don't need to get changed. I'm already dressed quite casually, so I'm good to go, but yes, you can drop me off at home and pick me up when you're changed,” I responded.

As the car pulled up to a stoplight, Gabriel turned to face me. "Well, since you don't need to go home and change, would you mind coming to my place with me?" he asked, the words hanging in the air between us.

My discomfort spiked at the suggestion. The idea of being alone with him in the home of a man I barely knew and who had only started their fake relationship agreement didn't sound very thrilling. My mind raced with potential scenarios, and my heart pounded in her chest.

"Why do I need to go to your place with you just because I don't need to go home?" I asked, my words laced with suspicion.

I shifted in my seat, trying to find some semblance of comfort as my unease grew. The last thing I wanted was to be in a situation where I would have to be alone with Gabriel.

His gaze softened. "I'm not trying to force anything, Antonia," he explained. "I just thought it would be more convenient. You could help me pick out clothes or wait for me to pick them out, and then we could head out together for our date from my place. But if the idea makes you uncomfortable, I can drop you off at home and we can meet again in an hour."

I let out a sigh, my mind wrestling with conflicting thoughts. On one hand, the idea of going to his house felt intimidating and overwhelming. On the other hand, I reminded myself that this was all part of our charade and that there was nothing to be afraid of.

After a brief moment of contemplation, I looked at him and said, "No, don't worry about me. Let's go to your place." I attempted to sound confident, hoping to convince myself as much as him.

Gabriel's expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I want you to feel comfortable, Antonia. If going to my place is too much, then we don't have to cross that line."

I took a deep breath and met his gaze. "I'm sure," I asserted. "This is all part of the plan, right? It's not like it's going to happen all the time. Plus, I'm actually curious to see where the great Gabriel Wilson lives. After all, in the public's eye, you're my man."

Gabriel chuckled, the tension between us gradually easing. "Alright then," he said. "Let's head to my place. I'll make sure to give you the grand tour, considering it'll be your first time."