Raw Deal (Beauty for Ashes: Book One) (35 page)

BOOK: Raw Deal (Beauty for Ashes: Book One)
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One of the stylists came and gave my hair a quick brushing while the guys came onto the set. I breathed in slowly and deeply, and then I let the air out like a yawn. I imagined all the ‘bad energy’ being released through that yawn. Rob gave me a funny look, but he didn’t comment.

Again, I did my best, posing with the male models. Then Anita asked Sadie to pose with them, and then Lizzie.

We were then taken out to the balcony and did the rest of the shoot there. After it, I was exhausted, mentally drained. I felt like I’d run a marathon.

“You did great,” Rob said as I put on my jacket and buttoned it up. I wasn’t going to bother changing back into my clothes. My jacket was long. “What happened this afternoon?”

“I was nervous and starving.”

“You can’t let that show.”

“I know. Are you our photographer tomorrow?” I was assuming I was coming back tomorrow, although I hadn’t spoken to Anita yet.

“Yes.”

“Cool. See ya.” I went over to Anita. “Am I coming back tomorrow?”

She looked up from her screen. “Sure. We start at twelve.”

“Should I come here?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks.”

I was glad I had booked a room. It was expensive but convenient. I was too depleted to cab it across town back to the Holiday Inn. I didn’t remove my makeup before getting into bed. My mom would have a fit if she knew. I checked my cell phone before I fell asleep. My mom had called, so had Monica and Carl. I’d return calls in the morning. For now, my body needed one thing.

Chapter 43

 

Tuesday’s photoshoot was easier, maybe because I now knew what was expected of me. We finished at four, and I jumped into a taxi. On my way back to the Holiday Inn, I texted Monica and thanked her for the day before. I’d barely hit send before she called back.

“You’re welcome,” Monica chirped. She was still all energy and light. I missed that. “So are you still at the Sherrington?”

“No, I’m staying at The Holiday Inn.”

“Which one?”

“The one by JFK.”

“Okay, I’ll be over in about an hour. How long are you here?”

“I fly back on Thursday morning.”

“Wow, you’re really going places with this modeling. Remember me when you make it.”

I laughed. “Of course I will.” A girl who could get you a great hairdresser at the drop of a hat was definitely the kind of contact to keep.

I scrolled down my contact list when we hung up. I still had Jace’s number. I wondered how he was doing.

The fact that I could be living in New York right now and getting a lot more modeling work was exasperating. Why had no one told me about the darn exchange program. I would have so applied.

I was starving when I got to my hotel room, but I decided to wait for Monica so that we could go find something to eat together. Monica sent me a text when she arrived, and I went to meet her in the lobby.

“Lexi!” she squealed, grabbing me in a tight hug. “I have so missed you. You’re staying till Thursday, right? Well I hope you don’t mind. I’ve brought some clothes. I thought I’d stay with you.”

“Okay.” I led the way to the elevator. “I’m hungry. Are you?”

“Do you still eat like a man?” Monica giggled. “I don’t know where you get that appetite from.”

We got to my room, and Monica tossed her purse on the bed. “How’s college?”

“So far, so good. How about you?”

“It’s already really hard. I see myself becoming a social recluse, but I really want to be a doctor. I just hope I have what it takes.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Monica touched my hair. “She did a great job, didn’t she?”

“Yes. I so owe you.”

“What was the whole emergency about?”

“I’ll tell you over dinner. Where shall we go? There’s a restaurant downstairs.”

“There’s an Indian place down the road.”

“Okay, shall we go there?”

“Yes. There’s this Indian girl in the room next to me at college, and she’s got me totally hooked on Onion Bhajis’s and Chicken Jalfrezi with Pilau Rice.”

“Okay, but you’ll have to order for me because I’ve never done Indian before.”

 

***

Indian food was hot. I knew it would be, but I wasn’t quite prepared for just how hot it was. My mouth was on fire. I watched Monica eat her rice and curry in quick easy mouthfuls. “How can you just eat it like that?” I asked, downing half my glass of water. “I like spicy food too, Monica, but this is so hot.”

“It’s not that hot. The more you drink, the hotter it’ll feel.”

“My mouth will explode if I don’t drink.”

“Let it cool down a bit. Maybe it won’t be so bad then.” Monica took a tiny sip of her sparkling water. I didn’t know how she could drink the stuff. It tasted like carbon dioxide. “So, how’s the love life? Met anyone at college?” She asked me.

“Not really. There’s a guy that lives a few doors from me, and he cooks me stir fry on Friday nights. That’s about it. I got back with Carl a few weeks ago.”

“Carl Layton?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why?”

“He’s nice to me,” I grinned. “And he was my first.”

Monica’s eyes widened. “That is so gross. When did that happen?”

I giggled. “In high school.”

She didn’t say anything.

“How’s your love life?”

“Non-existent.”

“But you’re in New York.”

“I know.”

“I’m sure there must be some hot Christian guys around.”

Monica smiled. “Actually, there’s a guy in the campus Bible Study. But he’s the study leader, and he’s super Godly. He’s not gonna look at me.”

“Are you kidding? I bet you’re the hottest girl there.”

Monica snorted. “I’m not.” She gathered up the remnants of rice and curry onto her fork and popped it into her mouth with relish. She set her fork down and grinned. “Mmm. That was beautiful.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said dryly. I’d barely managed four spoons of mine. “Are you still in touch with Hayden?”

Monica placed her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands. “No.”

“What about Liam? Is he in New York, too?”

“No. He went to Long Beach.”

“Do you still talk?”

“No. We stopped speaking after he found out I dated Hayden. I think Hayden said something to him one time, and after that, he just went cold on me.”

I couldn’t say I blamed him. “You don’t know what you’ve got till you lose it.”

“I know. I totally took him for granted.” Monica pursed her lips. “But I’m a Christian now, and I can’t go back to all that anyway.”

“I still think about Jace sometimes, but not in that way.” It was in
that
way sometimes, but I couldn’t admit that to anybody but myself. “I think about how crazy I was about him, and I just laugh. I’m glad that chapter is closed.”

“I haven’t even seen much of Jace since we got here. We go to different churches.”

“How’s Michelle? Is she still engaged to Matt?”

“Yes. They’re serious. I think they’re going to get married sooner rather than later.”

“Really?”

Monica nodded. “He’s so sweet to her. They actually make a great couple.”

I grimaced. “Why can’t I meet someone who’ll be sweet to me? I don’t think anyone has ever wanted to marry me.”

Monica looked incredulous. “We’re eighteen, Lexi. Matt and Michelle are the exception, not the rule.” She looked at my food. “You’re not going to eat that are you?”

“No, I’ll get takeout on our way back.”

 

***

Monica and I didn’t sleep until really late. I told her about my experience working with Roz Petroz and how hard it had been. She told me about her fears about med school. We talked about high school and what our classmates were up to now. Monica had all the gossip. As for me, I wasn’t in contact with anyone.

It was great to catch up, but we both had places to be on Wednesday morning. Monica had a class at nine, and I had a ‘go see’ with
Teen
magazine at eight. At seven o clock, I left her praying on the hotel room floor and jumped into a taxi.

The ‘go see’ was over in about fifteen minutes. I was met by the anti-bullying campaign director and the editor’s assistant. They interviewed me about my modeling experience, my thoughts on bullying, and why I wanted to do the campaign. Then they looked at my portfolio. They had three more models to see, and they were going to contact me by eleven if I was successful.

Teen
magazine was located in a huge business park in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t worth going back to my hotel in case they called me back, so I wandered around the business park until I came to a small sandwich shop. I bought a cinnamon bagel, a coffee, and a gossip magazine, and sat down at one of the tables.

I really wanted to be a model. I really wanted to do editorial work and walk for the big designers. I’d never doubted my ability before, but now I was starting to question myself. Did I have what it takes? Could I really do it? Or was it just a hobby that I had taken too seriously and should never have ventured into?

Something inside me wanted this so bad. But was that enough? Could I handle the pressure that came with the big fashion houses? I’d done big designers before, during my time in Europe, but it had mainly been runway. Up until a few months ago, I hadn’t really been that serious about making it. Modeling paid me pocket money and gave me free clothes, but it hadn’t meant as much then as it was beginning to mean to me now.

My cell phone rang at ten fifteen. “Hello?”

“Hi, Lexi?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Rita at
Teen
magazine. Just to let you know you’ve been successful for the anti-bullying campaign. Can you get back for twelve?”

“Sure.” I felt slightly elated as I hung up. I supposed my looking so far ahead was probably not so good at this point in time. I should just take each job as it comes and learn as much as I can from each one. Worrying about how I was going to get to the top was doing me no good. You got to the top by working. I had to focus on just working.

I checked out the cold pasta bowls in the fridge by the counter. I’d better line my stomach before I went. Who knew how long the shoot would take? I picked the tuna pasta salad and paid the girl at the counter, who by now obviously thought I was weird. I’d been sitting in the shop staring into space and occasionally turning a page in my magazine for two hours.

I left at eleven-thirty and walked back to
Teen
magazine. The reception was busy with about a dozen other people waiting. Rita, the editor’s assistant, and Gina, the director of the campaign appeared at twelve and took me and the other people through to a studio.

Rita welcomed us, and then left us with Gina, who explained what she wanted from us. I was the bullying victim, and another girl was the bully. Everyone else was society. They would be in the background going about their own business and turning a blind eye to my pain.

I grinned. I had gotten the central role. I went to get my makeup done and I read my relaxation pocket book. Not that I was nervous or anything, I just really wanted to deliver. I didn’t ever want another bad photoshoot like I’d had two days ago. I shut the book when the stylist started on my hair and tried to get myself into character. I was a bullying victim. I felt lonely, unwanted, and afraid. I had nowhere to turn.

I may never have been bullied, but pain was pain. It didn’t matter what caused it. So, in that sense, I could relate to bullying victims on some level.

The shoot took an hour. I think we gave Gina exactly what she wanted, because she looked pretty pleased.

As I was leaving, Rita was in the reception seeing off a gray-haired man in torn jeans and a V-neck sweater that revealed a forest of curly chest hair. Ugh!

“Thank you, Alessandro,” Rita said allowing the man to kiss her cheek. “I hope the show in LA goes well. It’s been such a pleasure meeting you.”

I stopped in my tracks. That was Alessandro Felice, Italian designer extraordinaire! I walked behind him as he exited the building. A black car was waiting at the curb.

“Excuse me, Mr. Felice,” I said before he got into the car.

He turned.

I smiled sheepishly. What was I doing? “Hi. I’m a model, and I really love your clothes. I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re doing a show in LA? I live in LA, and I was just wondering if you needed a model?”

“Ah, too late, all the models are booked,” Alessandro said with a heavy accent.

“Can I give you my details just in case?”

“The show is next week, sweetheart. All the models are booked.”

I was not above begging. “Can I just show you my portfolio?”

“No, sweetheart, I have to go.” He got into the passenger seat of the car.

I had tried, and there was no harm in trying. I called my cab.

BOOK: Raw Deal (Beauty for Ashes: Book One)
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