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Sofia is taken and sold at auction.

Garcia is already here, please follow me."

The ma__tre d' led him to a booth in a secluded part of the restaurant. Figures, Izabel wouldn't like to be exposed to paparazzi, he thought. When he came close to her, he noticed she was wearing a purple, halter dress which clung perfectly to her curves. Her face lit up when she saw him and she stood up straighter.

"Erik, you're here!" she exclaimed.

He smiled and took a seat opposite her. The ma__tre d' handed him a menu and announced their waiter would be with them shortly before leaving. "Well, we did arrange dinner. And sorry I was late. That shoot finished later than I thought. I hope I didn't make you wait too long."

"Oh," Izabel smiled and waved her hand. "I actually got here just a minute before you did."

Suddenly, Izabel's phone rang and she excused herself to answer it. She walked towards the open garden of the restaurant which was to the left of their booth. Erik saw her nod a few times and heard her gasp before laughing. She ended the call and made her way to him with an apologetic smile.

Uh oh...

"Erik," she sat down, then spoke. "Max said he couldn't come tonight because his boyfriend unexpectedly turned up from Paris tonight. He sends his apologies."

Releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding, Erik grinned and replied. "It's okay, I was actually looking forward to sharing dinner with you anyways."

She smiled and placed a hand on top of his. "I do too." She removed her hand and leaned back, picking up her menu and started scanning it. Erik smirked and imitated her actions. The waiter came and he ordered oysters with a seafood platter to follow while she ordered a shrimp Caesar salad.

"You know, even models should indulge themselves once in a while. And by indulge I meant order a real meal, not add dressing to their salads." He said, attempting to make conversation while they waited for their meals.

Izabel laughed. "Contrary to what you might believe, I actually enjoy eating salads and not because it makes me keep my figure but because I like how it tastes."

Erik rolled his eyes and wiped his utensils with the table napkin. "Yeah, I'm sure an assortment of leaves is delicious."

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to eat your vegetables?"

"She did but that didn't mean I had to listen. Plus, I had my dog to do that for me."

They both laughed at this, enjoying the banter, when Izabel decided to take a jab at him.

"What about you? What good would oysters do to you? They're the ocean's filters. You'd be eating nothing but ocean dirt."

Erik chuckled and took a sip of his beer. "But it would do me a lot of good. You forget, oysters are aphrodisiacs." He shot a smirk at her and she responded with a shy smile.

Their orders arrived and they ate their meal through their conversation. They both shared childhood stories; Erik spending his whole life in LA, living as the son of one of the richest producers in Hollywood. He was blessed to have Blake Armstrong as a father who encouraged him to pursue his chosen career. Many photographers are lucky to even get three shoots a month but not Erik; he was supported by his father through it all. True, his father contributed to his early success but later on, critics were able to see past his name and began to recognize his talent.

On the other hand, Izabel told him about her life in rural Brazil before making it big time, working in a farm that her parents owned. She never knew much until her visit to New York where she was exposed to the modern world. Then, the fateful day finally came. She didn't want to be a model at first because she wanted to continue her studies - even if high school was the farthest she would be able to achieve - in order to help her family but her mother explained that through modeling, she would be able to do the same, only better. So she did.

Erik was surprised to learn that she wasn't from a privileged family, she didn't look or act that way.

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