Chapter 24

Heidi

On the block before the old building, a bush broke into chatter before I passed by it. Little sparrows were adeptly concealed amid the shrubs’ gnarled thorns. They squeaked gleefully in their unseen condition, until now. Now they were stone-cold silent.

Shivering, I moved on.

I approached the old factory that had been converted to a setting for photo shoots. There was a nippiness to the air, something of a physical warning. My stomach was swirling with either my or baby’s nerves; I couldn’t tell. I’d successfully avoided going to the doctor for the past few weeks, but I would have to sooner or later.

Whatever my body was alerting me to, it wasn’t good, but I had to know. Although instinct told me what I was doing was fruitless, even damning, I had to go in to work. I had to see what my clients would say.

Sure, I had read and reread the Daily Mail article until my retinas were burning, but I had to know myself. I had to see it on the faces of the people I worked with, see and know without the slightest shadow of a doubt that my career as I knew it was 100 percent, 1,000 percent, 1,000,000 percent over.

Inside, the receptionist was busily typing away. Only guests were instructed to check in with her anyway, so I glided on in. Once I was a few steps into the room, I heard her call behind me. “Wait!”

But it was too late. The nightmare had begun. Everyone in the room was staring at me, but not directly at me. Their awkward gaping stares were fixed an inch above my head, down at my elbow, at the floor and the general proximity of my feet. Their looks said it all, but I was rooted to the spot. It was as if I were some insect trapped in formaldehyde for them to watch its dying spasms.

Someone grabbed my arm, and I was hustled out of the room and back toward the door.

It was hardly surprising to see it was Ron. He let go of my arm and looked at me as if I were a corpse reanimated. In a way, I guessed I was.

“You actually came.”

I managed a shaky nod and tried my hand at cracking a smile. “I did. This is that big Zara shoot, right?”

Ron nodded and then shook his head. Leaning in, he hissed, “Heidi, you know you can’t be here.”

“Why not?” I asked, although really, we both knew the answer already. But I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to see his face as he said it.

Ron shifted from one foot to the other. If his face wasn’t so Botoxed, maybe I would’ve seen more traces of emotion. Or maybe not. He was just doing his job after all.

Shaking his head, he finally said, “The latest scandal went viral. Even the news stations in the States picked it up. I’ve been calling all over the place just to see, but…” He shook his head again, his glazed-over eyes finally meeting mine. “No one will work with you, Heidi.”

“No one,” I repeated to myself.

Ron gave one more nod.

“No one.”

We stood there for a minute, eyeing each other as if we were in a play and it was the other’s turn to say their lines, only each one thought it was the other’s turn. As it turned out, it was mine.

“So…”

“Of course I’ll give you a great reference for future jobs”—Ron’s entire body came back to life with frenetic energy, as if he finally found a solution that had been staring us both in the face all along—“in another sphere than the modeling world, of course. You might even have a shot.”

He flashed me his most convincing, pearly white smile, and that was the final dagger in my heart. Ron was the king of understatement. If he was saying my career as a model was dead, then it had been buried in the ground for days now.

Ron glanced at his watch, his face assuming a “sorry” expression.

“But I do have to go. We have to coach the new girl who—” He waved his hand, probably realizing that informing me about the inconveniences of the model who was replacing me wouldn’t be in the best taste. “Good luck, you hear?”

I only nodded before my legs took me out the door and to the expressionless spread of blue sky. I retraced my steps past the chattering bush that I now realized was laughing. They had known all along. Even the sparrows were laughing at me.

And yet, everything that had happened still seemed as though I had to be making some sort of terrible mistake. This nightmare was just that: a bad dream I was bound to wake up from at any point.

I adjusted my big sun hat to block my face. Luckily, I’d escaped unnoticed up until now, but I didn’t want to risk things.

My mind scanned through every possibility open to me. It wasn’t like I could just rest on my laurels and go retire on the beach for the rest of my life. Most of my money, on the advice of Ron, had been reinvested into my business, into promoting me as a model and getting me the best shots and the best clothes so I could go to the best events. I had very little in the way of savings. I probably had around the same amount saved that I did back in college. Not to mention I had a baby on the way, and babies weren’t cheap.

I closed my eyes. My mind clicked through every acquaintance and friend I had, every person who could potentially pull in a favor and give me another job or two if it came to it. But every time I tried thinking of anyone, all I saw was that glazed look in Ron’s eyes, as if he wasn’t even talking to me, Heidi, his client who he’d worked with for years now. It was as if I were already a walking skeleton.

Finally, my mind stopped at the last possible option.

My upper lip curled in distaste. Federico Ferrari had an impressive name but a less-than-impressive demeanor. He had a silky smooth way of talking and was well known as slimy in his business dealings. At one point, he had actually gone down on his knees to beg me to work with him. Although they did say he paid well.

The corners of my lips turned back down. Had I fallen so far so fast? My lips sealed together in determination. I needed to do this. I needed another ad campaign to show the world I wasn’t dead and I refused to be silenced. I didn’t care who would do that. Whoever would agree to work with me would fit the bill perfectly—Federico Ferrari or anyone.

I found a bench and had to scan through my phone for a good twenty minutes to find his number. I hadn’t saved it. The only record I had of it was a call he had annoyed me with a few months back.

It was his personal cell, apparently, so at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the aggravation and difficulty of getting through a stubborn secretary.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Yes?”

My throat closed up at the sound of his accented voice.

“Hey, Federico,” I managed with my best rendition of someone who was actually happy to be talking to him.

“Who is this?” the voice said with suspicion.

I gulped. Hadn’t Federico said he had saved my phone number in some special place and that he would be ready whenever I chose to call?

“It’s Heidi…”

Dial tone.

I hadn’t even noticed that I’d stood up during the call until my shaky legs brought me back down. Federico Ferrari, the man so slimy I hadn’t deigned to even consider the thought of working with him, had turned me down in the most insulting manner possible.

That was it. That was my last chance, and it had been thrown in the trash.

Like where I was now. As the sun shone out from the clouds above me, it occurred to me that this wasn’t home to me. Home was home, the United States of America, the only home I’d ever known and ever would.

I’d come here with big dreams, and I’d leave with a big crater where my career had been. It was unfortunate about Charles, but he’d understand. He was just locked in this good prince narrative; he didn’t actually want me.

--

“You can’t leave just like that.”

Liza’s words were less than convincing, especially considering she was parked on the kitchen floor eating a doughnut. Out of sugar-frosted lips, she repeated, “Seriously, Heidi. You can’t just run off like that. It’s not fair to Charles.”

“Have you heard a word I’ve been saying?” I demanded. “My life is over. My career is over, and I can’t go anywhere without wearing the biggest, ugliest hat I have and sunglasses that are more like a mask in order to avoid being recognized. There’s nothing left for me here now.”

“Gee, thanks for that.”

Going over to her, I sat beside her and leaned my head on her shoulder.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that this place reminds me of so much pain. I need to go home, to see my parents. Is that so hard to understand?”

“No,” Liza allowed grudgingly.

At a knock on the door, we exchanged a look. Was that Charles again? One day later? My heart couldn’t decide whether it was excited or worried.

At the following knocks, Liza gathered herself upright with a groan. “I’ll get it.”

As soon as she opened the door, noise burst into the flat.

“Ms. Peterson, do you have any comments as to your friend Heidi’s baby and the supposed father of the child, who is none other than Charles, our future king?”

“Heidi,” someone else called out, a woman, “are you in there?”

I ran into my bedroom and threw the door closed behind me. A few seconds later, I heard the front door slam and the lock twist. Liza knocked tentatively on my door.

“Go away,” I sobbed.

She paused and then opened the door. “I’m sorry.”

Her words were quiet, and I couldn’t seem to find mine. My body was so enwrapped in the blanket that I couldn’t tell where my limbs started and where the blanket began.

The bed creaked as Liza sat down on it. Her hand rested on my head and patted it.

“I’m so, so, so sorry, Heidi.”

She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. Now she understood all too well my need to leave. Now, if she were me, she would too.