Chapter4
Sierra took a deep breath, mentally going over the notes she had studied in less than fifteen hours. It was no fashion brand, but Tyrone had pulled a few strings to get her in as a replacement auto show model.
“I’m gonna have to do what?” Sierra said in surprise.
“You’re going to stand beside a car for six hours straight and get a hundred and fifty dollars. Simple as that. Oh, and you should know about the car, too.”
“Ty!” Sierra gasped.
“Don’t whine on me. I got you a temp job. Now use that brain of yours and stay pretty, too. Look for Joan Miller tomorrow at this address. Hey, you got a pen? Good. 555 W 58th Street.”
“All right,” Sierra said.
“I gave your email to Joan. She’ll send you a few lessons about Orion’s latest car. Dang, they got expensive cars.”
Sierra nodded to herself. “Uh-huh.”
“Don’t let me down, I overdid my praises for you,” Tyrone told her.
“I won’t.”
And that was that. She had gotten a job; a job was a job, even if it was temporary. The gig was for three days, with international magazines and auto enthusiasts covering the event. This was her ticket to surviving for another week. Today, she was down to her last fifty dollars, and she thanked God silently, closing her eyes.
She arrived at the venue an hour ahead of the event’s opening. She walked to the backroom and saw a few tall girls dressed in skimpy clothes. This must be it, she thought.
“I’m looking for Joan Miller, please,” Sierra said, approaching a tiny woman.
“I’m Joan Miller,” she replied quickly. “I haven’t got all day.”
“I’m the replacement. Tyrone said—”
“Tyrone, he came through. Good. And you’re not half bad to look at,” the lady with the thick glasses and extremely curly blonde hair said. “If you do a good job at this, you could become a regular at the agency. Here, this is your uniform. You studied the 7 Iris? You know, just in case. The owner’s a bit of an ass.”
She nodded.
“Good. And put on some lipstick.”
Sierra grabbed the paper bag, glad she’d brought along her midnight blue strappy heels to pair with the midnight blue dress she was to wear. It had the Orion logo on it. She headed for the changing area and saw the other models readily stripping down to their underwear, talking in hushed tones. Sierra gave a shy smile and a few smiled back, while two others didn’t.
“Can’t believe she’s getting paid $300 for six hours while we’re doing the same job she is and we’re paid half,” a brunette complained to her companion.
Sierra overheard this and quickly changed, avoiding their glances. So she wasn’t paid much, at least she had a job. Perhaps these models had been here longer, hence the complaints. Sierra approached a vanity mirror and put on some red lipstick.
“You’re Stephanie’s replacement?” a blonde girl with a friendly smile came up to her. She had a smattering of freckles all over her face and neck which she tried to cover up with foundation.
“I guess,” Sierra replied. “Are you part of the agency?”
She nodded. “I’m Cecile. Been with Fresh Faces for a month now. It’s not much, but the owner’s nice and we get constant bookings.”
“I’m Sierra,” she replied. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, you have pretty eyes,” Cecile told her, moving closer.
Sierra smiled. “Got the same eyes as my mom.”
“I inherited the same amount of freckles from my mom,” Cecile told her.
Sierra decided she liked Cecile already. “Are we really required to study the company that booked us?”
“Owner’s quirks. He’s too good looking to say no to.”
Sierra shook her head. No one could be that good looking. One of her first impressions was that models were kind of like high schoolers, gossiping and exaggeration were pretty common place, except these were really attractive high schoolers with the height to match.
“So, he’s been booking the same agency for his events?”
Cecile nodded. “From what I’ve heard. That’s why a few of the girls get paid more than what we earn.”
“Oh.” And that was all Sierra said. The gossiping models eyed her critically as she wore her designated dress, then they spun around and headed down the hall for the toilet.
“Who were those?” Sierra asked Cecile.
“Oh, they’ve been with Fresh Faces for about six months now. It’s best to avoid them; they’re kinda mean.”
Sierra nodded. High school feels were present. The mean girls had to be everywhere. She took a deep breath as Joan Miller called everyone for one last briefing. The client was extravagant, as most multi-million dollar companies were. He’d invited many members from the press and from multi-national companies, which meant the models could outshine the cars when they wanted to and if they could.
“Try not to act too dumb,” Joan reminded them. “Remember, we’re in an androgen-filled event—” she paused, looking at one model who had a quizzical look on her face. “We’re in an event with a lot of men,” she corrected.
The models nodded, even Sierra found herself nodding. She certainly didn’t want to be stereotyped. She was new. What did ‘try not to act too dumb’ mean? Cecile saw Sierra’s face and explained this to her later on as they walked out of the changing room.
“It means you can’t be too stupid to think they can just harass you because you’re a model. Some guys will really ask for those annoying pictures and will sometimes hold your ass. And you can’t be too smart ‘cause you might intimidate a few clients. So I put it in my head to think like I’m in high school,” Cecile grinned.
Sierra had been salutatorian in high school, but she nodded. Whatever it took to finish this, she would do it, but she wouldn’t dumb herself down. She could stay quiet and smile and be pleasant and that would be it. She hoped.
Fifteen minutes later, people began flooding in the spacious glass and cement finish showroom. Bright lights shone overhead, and upbeat house music played from the speakers. There were four cars on display, cocktails were served, and ten models paraded about or stood beside the cars. Sierra found herself under the warm lights, and she desperately hoped she wouldn’t sweat despite the air-conditioning. This first event was making her feel nervous, and all she had to do was stand there and smile at the people with constant flashing from cameras and mobile phones.
“He’s here,” someone murmured in the crowd.
Sierra saw the majority of the crowd move to the entrance, the media in a frenzy to get a glimpse of the newcomer. Who in the hell was this? A celebrity? Some model? Sierra continued to smile for the remaining passersby.
“Sir, can you tell us what your company’s plans are for the next year?”
“Under wraps,” the charming man replied.
“Is it true you’re getting married?” another asked.
“This is an auto show, not a noon-time talk show,” the newcomer grinned. It drew appreciative laughter. “Now please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy the rest of the day. Feel free to have some champagne. I hear it goes well with auto shows.”
Laughter again. The man moved on to speak with a few staff as Sierra looked away. He was obviously the owner, but she didn’t get a good look at him. This apparently bothered the other models who tentatively approached him to ask for photos. He nodded and smiled without teeth.
Sierra concentrated on her job, confused if the owner was also some Hollywood celebrity she didn’t know. His profile certainly looked the part, with his blond hair, steely blue eyes, and patrician nose. He was dressed in a casual suit with leather sneakers and dark jeans. The cool CEO.
From across the room, Ben noticed a model standing beside the platform where the 7 Iris was. She was the only darker-skinned model in the room and had wavy, shoulder-length black hair. She had a thin nose and a wide smile with perfect, white teeth. She also had a deep dimple on her left cheek when she smiled. Her features reminded him of some Victoria’s Secret model he had met but had been unable to date because he’d had to fly out for Germany that night.
“Hey, miss, can you tell us what this car is about?” a journalist jeered at her. Ben overheard this, and he knew the journalist wanted to embarrass the model. Some were born idiots.
She took a step forward and put a gloved hand on the car’s hood.
“Orion’s done its best work yet,” Sierra began with a smile. “This car wasn’t supposed to be shown to the public today, but Orion couldn’t resist.”
“Yeah? How’s that?” the media man taunted.
By then, a sizeable crowd had gathered to listen to the model talk.
“The Orion 7 Iris is using the twin-turbocharged 4.0-liter V-8, eight-speed torque converter automatic, and all-wheel drive that Orion lovers have known since the debut of the 4 Vesta two years ago. The 7 Iris has an overboost function that increases the latter figure to 553 pounds per foot (for short bursts) upon acceleration. The 7 Iris can reach sixty-five miles per hour from a standstill in three point nine seconds.”
There was appreciative laughter and applause from the male-dominated crowd. Ben was smiling with his back turned. Cecile, who stood across Sierra’s platform on another car, gave a thumbs up and a wink, marveling at their new companion.
Ben walked away to meet up with a Formula One race driver who was admiring another one of his mass model luxury sedans. As he walked away from the area, he asked his secretary who that was.
“She’s new,” was Jemima’s reply.
“Yeah, I want you to find out who she is,” Ben told her.
Jemima nodded, typing the reminder on her iPad. Ben spoke to the driver, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, but his eyes darted off once in a while for the smart model’s direction. The irony of a smart model. He had dated a few model, and they had been airheads. She was unique. And she didn’t even bother coming up to him to have her picture taken with him. He had taken a liking to her already.
***
The last day of the launching came, and Sierra had just finished her six-hour duty of smiling and standing beside the 7 Iris. Joan Miller had showed her an article yesterday about a certain model stealing a bit of the show and a few of the guests’ hearts. The agent was certainly proud and had secretly begun to make a contract for her to be an exclusive Fresh Faces model, with the approval of the owner, of course.
She would call for Sierra tomorrow to present to her their exclusive contract. She had nearly dismissed Sierra as just another pretty face, but hearing her act smart actually made a difference.
“Ms. Miller?” a woman approached her, wearing an Orion shirt.
“Yes?” she greeted with a smile.
“I hope you remember me. I’m Jemima Roberts, Mr. Eriksson’s secretary. Well, one of this secretaries.”
“Yes, yes I do, Ms. Roberts. How can I help you?”
“Orion would like to know who the model for the 7 Iris was. We’re pleased to know she’s generated a bit of a buzz.”
Joan smiled broadly. “She’s actually new. Sierra Whittaker.”
“Is she in an exclusive contract with Fresh Faces?”
“Tomorrow she will be,” Joan replied quickly. In no way was she allowing the loss of this potential supermodel.
“Mr. Eriksson plans to have an exclusive contract drawn for her. He’s willing to match your offers,” Jemima told her as they sat on a comfortable couch, meters away from the refreshments.
“I can’t renege on my pledge to the agency to have her in it. She’s too valuable—”
“If she doesn’t have a contract, we’re letting you know we want her with us.”
“As what?”
“That is up to Orion,” Jemima responded.
“You can’t. She’s a model.”
“Apparently, you haven’t had a good background check on her. She graduated with honors from elementary until college. Which is why Orion wants her. Thank you for your time, Ms. Miller.”
Joan Miller sat there dumbfounded, holding a bottle of water. She had thought all the while that Sierra Whittaker had just memorized the three page introduction she had sent the night before the show. Well, she wasn’t playing smart then, at least that was for sure.
As soon as the affair ended, Jemima made her way to Sierra before Joan could call on to her. Joan’s lips pursed, seeing Jemima approach Sierra casually by the time she had stepped down from the platform.
“Sierra Whittaker?” Jemima began with an easy smile.
“Yes?” Sierra said.
“I’m Jemima Roberts, from Orion. Corporate secretary.”
“Hi, Ms. Roberts,” she greeted. “My shift just ended. Can I help you with something?”
“If you could come to our corporate tower at E 67th Street tomorrow at nine in the morning, that would be great. We have a wonderful offer for you.”
An offer? What was this about? She’d come to New York because of the easy money she thought she was going to get as a model. And yet, Orion stepped in to offer something else. She wondered what it was. She found herself nodding.
“All right. Do I have to bring anything?” she found herself asking.
“No need to bring your portfolio. Just yourself. See you tomorrow and have a great day.”
“Same to you,” Sierra said in a small voice. She watched as the petite secretary walked away, dialing someone on her phone.
“What was that all about?” Cecile asked, approaching her.
“I think I’ve found another job,” she said with a murmur. Sierra saw the two gossiping models whispering in front of her.
She told herself she would ignore it. As soon as she reached the changing area, Joan Miller was already there waiting for her with an envelope.
“I see you’ve spoken with Ms. Roberts from Orion,” Joan began.
Sierra nodded.
“We were going to offer you an exclusive contract.”
Sierra’s eyes widened.
“But someone’s beat us to it,” Joan finished with a sigh. “You can’t ever go against a company as big as that.”
“They’re just cars, Ms. Miller. I don’t know much—”
“Orion isn’t just about cars. They’re a luxury company. They’re one of the top eyewear manufacturers in the world; they’re also into wines. Ever heard of Newton Estates? That’s his mother’s vineyard in Canada. They produce—”
“Ice wine,” Sierra finished.
“So you have heard of them,” Joan said.
She nodded. She had thought they were a Canadian wine brand. They made the tastiest ice wines she had ever had in her life, and they weren’t cheap, but it was a pretty popular brand that she saw in Rushport’s shopping markets and high-end restaurants.
“So that company isn’t one to be messed with. Besides, they’ve used many of Fresh Faces’ models. It’s hard to let go of you when I’ve just found you. You’re rather unique among the models I’ve seen this year, but if Orion’s seen something in you, that means you’re in good hands.”
Sierra said her thanks when Joan handed her the envelope with her three-day pay.
“Make sure they like you,” Joan said before she left.