Jenny.

When I was teenager I dreamed of a time when the golden haired, flamboyant Jackson brother would notice me as a desirable woman and not the tomboy daughter of their family’s chauffeur. But my father felt my behaviour was inappropriate and not befitting of our lowly status so he decided to send me back to my grandparents farm in Virginia. No amount of persuasion would dissuade him.

Luckily for me, one of the Jacksons’ wealthy friends found a job placement for me as an in-house model in a fashion house in Paris.

So to Paris, I went.

There I became a woman and ...

Jenny.

When I was teenager I dreamed of a time when the golden haired, flamboyant Jackson brother would notice me as a desirable woman and not the tomboy daughter of their family’s chauffeur. But my father felt my behaviour was inappropriate and not befitting of our lowly status so he decided to send me back to my grandparents farm in Virginia. No amount of persuasion would dissuade him.

Luckily for me, one of the Jacksons’ wealthy friends found a job placement for me as an in-house model in a fashion house in Paris.

So to Paris, I went.

There I became a woman and learned about a French thing called je ne sais quoi. The first rule is: do not throw yourself at a man. No matter how much you want him.

Now I’m back at the Jackson estate. And to my great delight the golden-haired Jackson hasn’t recognized me at all. He thinks I’m some glamorous French chick. Not only that he shows all the classic signs of an infatuated man.

There is one problem though, and it’s a rather big one. The black-haired, stern, older brother, Zach Jackson. His mouth is disapproving, but his eyes strip me naked.

I wonder… will my new found je ne sais quoi work on him?

Or will I forget rule number one when I feel his touch?