Sammy in Italy (Single Wide Female Travels #2) (8 page)

“Oh, I don’t think I can come back and do this again tonight.” I closed my eyes. “In fact, I don’t want to.”

“Sammy, you don’t give up on things.” He caught my chin with a light squeeze.
 
“You’re going to make it through this. Let’s just go back to the hotel. You can have a nice bath and I’ll give you a massage.”

“Wow, you’re right.” I stared at him.
 

“I know, it’s rare.” He grinned. “Remember?”

“No, I mean you’re right that I depend on you. You’re so ready to pamper me, when I should be able to handle this myself.” I shook my head. “I never realized what a position I put you in.”
 

“I don’t mind. I love taking care of you. I just don’t like to see you struggle.” He sighed and rested his forehead against mine. “I want the whole world to be perfect for you, so maybe I’m guilty of trying to protect you too much. You’ll find your footing, Sammy.”
 

“Not if I hide out in the hotel.” I stood up, with his hand still in mine. “I want to go out into the city. Let’s go have some lunch. I want to do the opposite of everything that I have been doing lately. Maybe that will clear my head a bit.”

“Sounds great.” He led me toward the door. “I’ll be here tonight, you know.”
 

“It wasn’t your fault, Max. I shouldn’t have said that. Whatever is making me stumble is all on me.” I kissed his cheek. “But I am sure glad I have you here to help me figure it out.”
 

“Motorbike?” He pulled the keys from his pocket.
 

“Absolutely.”
 

As I hugged him tight and the world flew by, I realized that it wasn’t just my body I wasn’t satisfied with. A part of me still seemed to be waiting for Max to reject me. Despite how clear and forthcoming he’d been about his feelings, I still expected him to come to his senses and walk away.

If he knew that I was even thinking such things, he’d be upset. He had a right to be. It showed a lack of trust that I thought I’d left behind long ago.

Why was I so very twisted up inside? Why did it seem like the lightest breeze could send me spiraling off my path? If there was ever going to be a moment that I should declare happiness as my fulltime state of mind, wouldn’t Venice in Max’s arms be one of those moments?

Max eased the motorbike to a stop outside a small cafe.
 

“I’m starving.” He wrapped his arm around my waist as we walked inside. “I can’t wait to see the menu.”

“I don’t even need a menu. I know exactly what I want.” I grinned.

He pulled out a chair for me.

As I sat down, I reminded myself how lucky I was to be with him. For so long I thought it would never happen, but there he was—right across from me, his gaze locked to mine.
 

“What’s it going to be?”
 

“Chicken Alfredo. How could I pass it up?”

I sensed relief in his smile as he nodded. “Good. The last thing you want to do is miss out on the good food in Italy.”

Once we placed our order I did my best to make conversation. I tried to keep a positive tone, and even pointed out how lucky we were to be in Venice. It all would have been true, if I could only just let the thoughts go about my fall from the runway.

Max was right. It certainly hadn’t been the first time that it had happened to me, but it was probably the most public of any mishaps I’d had. How could I manage it again that night?

When the chicken Alfredo arrived, I dug in and even tried a bite of Max’s ravioli. I enjoyed indulging in one of my favorite meals, and though I’d had many delicious dishes, this by far outshined them all.
 

“Wow, I might never be able to go back home. I’ll miss the food!”
 

“That’ll give us a good reason to come back.” Max smiled.
 

“Do you think we will? This seems like such a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing, doesn’t it?”

“Samantha, if your book keeps doing so well and your next follows suit, you’re going to have the freedom to go anywhere and do anything you want.” Max took a bite of my Alfredo. “You shouldn’t limit yourself.”
 

“Hm.” I finished my food as I thought about his words.

Was that the problem? Was I limiting the amount of success I was allowing myself?

Chapter 18

When we left the restaurant, the uneasiness followed me. I wanted to think my way out of the problem I faced, when what I really needed to do was feel my way out.

“Can we do a little window shopping?” I pointed to the slew of tiny shops not far from the restaurant.
 

“Sure.” Max hooked his arm through mine.

As I perused the assortment of goods, I found that delicate items drew my attention—tiny figurines, little glass shoes, and even dainty teacups. None of these things were my usual style. Could it be that my own sense of fragility was reflected in these items?

By the time we left the shops, it was close to time for the fashion show. My stomach filled with nerves as the time ticked by. I managed to eat a light salad, while I paced back and forth.
 

“Samantha, you’re going to wear yourself out before you get on the runway.” Max laughed.
 

“Please don’t say that. The last thing I need is another runway disaster.”
 

“Don’t predict it, just let it happen. I’m going to be there with you.” He took my hand. “Every step of the way.”
 

“Thank you, Max. I appreciate it.”
 

“Just try all of your usual methods—meditation, yoga, deep breathing, maybe something playful. You have to get out of your head.”

“I know, I know. But I don’t have any time for that.” I glanced at my watch. “I need to head out right now, actually.”
 

“You can do this, Sammy, I know you can.” He leaned in for a kiss.

Even his kiss, which at one time not long ago would have had me in a puddle on the floor, struck me in that moment as a waste of time. I didn’t want to be late. I didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.
 

“I have to get my things.” I jumped up to gather my purse and a bottle of water, then we were off to the show.
 

In the car on the way there, Max tried to engage me a few times in conversation, but I couldn’t think or speak. I could only envision a perfect walk down the runway. It was time to redeem myself. If I kept my mind focused, I believed that I could do just that.

Confidence flooded through me until we walked into the venue. It was much larger than the one I’d been in earlier that day. Also, this runway was twice as long. The people in the audience were just as fancy. I noticed the man whose lap I’d landed in sat a few rows back from the front.

I took a deep breath and kissed Max on the cheek. “I’d better just bite the bullet and get back there.”

“Hey.” He looked into my eyes. “It’s supposed to be fun, remember?”

I laughed and shook my head as I walked away from him. His words were an attempt at brightening my mood, but they couldn’t be further from the truth. The only fun I looked forward to was when the show was over.

When I walked into the dressing room I expected to hear laughter or maybe even a few mocking comments. Surely after my fall on the runway the professional models would have a few things to say about me.

Instead, when I stepped inside, I was greeted by a light round of applause. My cheeks grew hot as I thought they were teasing me.
 

“I know, I know—it was horrible.”

“No!” Alia jumped up. “Not at all. You handled it really well, and you’re back tonight. That’s amazing!”

“It doesn’t surprise me.” Priscilla looked over at me. “I knew she was tough from the first moment I saw her. It takes a strong woman to endure that kind of stumble and then show her face again.”
 

“Well, I have an obligation.”

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” Alia stood up and walked over to me. “I’ve fallen twice since I started modeling. The first time I didn’t get back on the runway for a month. The second time I nearly quit modeling altogether.”

“Why?” I looked at her with wide eyes. “You’re an amazing model. Why would you want to give that up?”

“I didn’t want to, but I was sure no one would be able to forget. I figured I’d never do well, so I should just give up.” She looked over at Priscilla. “It was Priscilla who talked me out of it. She told me that if I wanted something bad enough, a million falls—a million embarrassing moments—wouldn’t keep me from getting back on the runway. She was right and here you are, so you must have a pretty powerful passion for something too.”

“It’s true.” Priscilla nodded. “It’s all about what you want. That’s why I can leave it all on the runway. If it was a good walk, great. If it was not so good—oh well, there will be another walk. We’re here to do a job and that job doesn’t have to be difficult unless we make it so.”
 

“Very good point.” I leaned against the wall and looked at all of the gorgeous dresses lined up.

I could recall a time when I’d refused to even walk inside stores because I guessed that all of their beautiful dresses would not be in my size. Alistair could change that. He was changing that. He wanted to create glamorous dresses in all shapes and sizes. That was certainly something to be passionate about.

Not only was I enamored by the idea of Alistair’s creations, I was impressed by the advice given to me by the two models I’d gotten to know. It was easy to look at a beautiful woman and assume she had no insecurities, but that wasn’t the truth—not at all.

Alia and Priscilla both had their own beliefs about their bodies, as did the rest of the women I’d overheard in the dressing room. Some had ankles that were too thick in their opinion; others had elbows that jutted out too harshly.

If women who were held up as the ideals of beauty couldn’t find a way to embrace their bodies, then what chance was there for the average woman?

That’s where I came in. My opportunity to represent the average woman was more powerful than I’d even first realized.

I eased my way into my dress, smoothed it down and accepted the attention of the stylist.

When we lined up for the final walk my heart fluttered. This was it. Was I going to fall again? Was I going to end up in some other poor sap’s lap?

Chapter 19

I reminded myself that Max was there. Somewhere in the sea of faces his smile waited to greet me.

With slow even breaths I watched each of the girls before me walk out onto the runway. As each one returned without any stumbles or nosedives I reminded myself that it could be done. Then it was my turn.

I blanketed myself in the passion I had for the dress I wore and the cause it supported. Even if I couldn’t be confident, I could be proud.

With long even strides I made my way down to the end of the runway. At the end, I placed one hand on my hip, swirled my body around, and began to walk back. As I did, another model approached me. It struck me that earlier in the day I’d moved to the edge of the runway, not because there wasn’t enough room, but out of habit. I often gave plenty of room to people around me, as if I were a mountain rather than a woman.

I forced myself to stay on the same path. We didn’t come close to touching.

When I made it behind the curtain I nearly collapsed with relief. Applause from the audience let me know that the show had come to an end.

It was over. I’d done it. My heart still pounded as if it might burst, but I’d done it. A thin sheen of sweat covered my skin.
 

“Samantha.”
 

Alistair’s voice drew my attention. Was he pleased? Was he upset?

I looked into his eyes as he walked up to me.
 

“Thank you. Thank you for being present on the runway tonight. I’ve already received several amazing responses to the dress. As a gift, I’d like for you to keep it. I couldn’t imagine it being on anyone else.” He looked over the dress and then back up at me. “You gave it life.”
 

“Thank you, Alistair. At first I was a little upset about doing this, but now I’m very grateful for the opportunity.”
 

“I’m glad.” He gave my hand a firm shake. “Any time you are back in Venice let me know. I’d love to get you on the runway again.”

I smiled as he walked away, yet the very thought still filled me with horror.

“Hey, beautiful!” Max’s arms wrapped around me from behind. “You were breathtaking. Just like I knew you would be.”

“Thanks, Max.” I turned in his arms to look into his eyes.
 

“Were you able to get centered? You sure seemed to be.”

“No.” I sighed. “Not really. I was able to cover it up, but I was still terrified. I really need to figure out what has me so frazzled.”
 

“Should we take a walk along the water and talk about it?” Max slipped his hand into mine.
 

“I don’t know. Do we have time for that?” My heart lurched anxiously.
 

“Sammy, we don’t have any other plans for two days. We have plenty of time. We can try the gondola ride again. Plus, I have something special planned for us tomorrow.” He stroked the back of my hand. “We can slow down a little bit and really enjoy our time here.”
 

His words sunk deep into my thoughts. “That’s it! Time. I’ve been so rushed since we left France. I didn’t take the time to do any meditation—no yoga, no blogging, no nothing. I’ve lost my center because I’m not making time to find it.”

“That sounds about right.” Max exhaled. “We have been on a pretty tight schedule.”

“But not too tight for five minutes of meditation or a little activity. That’s just an excuse. I’ve fallen back into the idea that I have to prove my worth in order to be here. So, instead of taking care of myself, I’ve spent all my time stressing out. Wow, how did I lose track so easily?” I slid my arm through his as we walked out of the building. “I’m sorry, Max. I’ve been relying on you way too much and not even recognizing how much support you’ve been giving me.”