A/N: So this is the result of me watching [this movie] right before I wrote this story. Enjoy...


Chapter 1

Sixteen years later

"Open your eyes, Isabella," said a deep, but familiar voice behind her. She gently took her hands from her face and lowered them to her sides.

Isabella Garcia-Shapiro slowly opened her eyelids to reveal striking sapphire eyes framed by dark, lush eyelashes. She blinked a few times to accustom herself to the dark void around her.

"What the. . .?" she began. Click! Suddenly the room was filled with a white light so bright it hurt her head. She closed her eyes again to block it out, then slowly opened them. When she did, she gasped in awe.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. She didn't need to be told where she was; she recognized immediately that she was in Tiffany's largest New York store. Ever since that fateful event that resulted in her leaving Danville, she had almost completely changed her goals in life. By freak chance as she wandered the streets of the Big Apple, she was seen by a desperate modeling agent who in need of a model after losing his last client, thought her blue eyes with dark hair was a perfect contrast, and found her height to be decent enough. She was then offered a job in the high-end world of modeling in the moment of sheer desperation, but proved to better at it than they expected of a civilian whom they had picked off the streets. And now five years after leaving home, here she was. A high up fashion model, one who'd even started a tradition of buying a new piece of jewelry whenever the mood struck her.

Looking around at the glass cases beside her, she shook her head in mystification. "What on earth?" she asked as she turned around to look at the man standing beside her. He looked quite as handsome as ever dressed in the black tuxedo he had worn to their elegant dinner that evening. He had promised a very special surprise after the meal, but Isabella was still uncertain what they were doing at Tiffany's, well after closing. Or how Tiffany's could even be related for the matter. If he had wanted to buy her a gift from the store, couldn't they have done it during the day?

He smiled indulgently, and then snapped his fingers once. She watched as silently more than a dozen men and women appeared from behind the counters around her side of her, each one bearing a small jewelry box. As if on cue, they all opened their boxes at once. She gasped again. Suddenly she thought she knew what the surprise would be.

"Surprise, dear! I know that Christmas is still a few weeks away, but I could not wait." The handsome man turned to her, smiling broadly, and said simply, "Pick one."

Isabella resisted the urge to slap herself, and instead, knowing that her exterior model-self was commanding, "Make me proud!" She walked up one side of the row and down the other. It hadn't taken her too long to come to a decision. She discovered a stunning solitaire, easily five carats diamond, and indicated at it, then gazed charmingly at her date. He strode swiftly over to her and stood before her. He took the ring from the smiling jeweler, and then circled to Isabella. Bending down to one knee, he looked up at her and flashed a flawless smile.

"Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, I swear you are the most beautiful woman in all of New York, no, the world. Would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

A lovely smile lit up Isabella's face. She opened her mouth to tell him what he wanted to hear, and then, suddenly, the color drained from her face leaving it a pae white.

"Oh, God."

"What's wrong dear?" the man asked, his brow creased in trepidation. "Do you not like this one? There are others. We can always look at others if you are unhappy with the selection." He waved his arm out to take in the many other rings being showcased around them.

Isabella nearly fell back as the wonderful fairy-tale quality of the moment passed and reality came back with a sharp blow.

"I. . .uh. . .I. . ." She looked away, dazed. In a moment, she looked back at him. Seeing that he was utterly shocked, she leaned in and quickly placed a light kiss on his mouth, then patted his head absently.

"Of course I'll marry you, Andrew," she answered, her mind lost in thought. "Just. . .not yet." She turned toward the door, then back to him once again. She leaned her head to his once more, this time giving him a more passionate kiss, holding his face in her hands. She pulled her head back and smiled her most winning smile.

"Hold that thought," she pleaded.

Then she turned in the opposite direction and walked out the door.