I should have taken the subway instead of Uber to the SoHo studio apartment. Maybe once I moved back home, I’d put money aside.
I doubt it.
It was still dark outside when I got into the car. I’d slept terribly the night before and felt like crap, so it took everything for me to leave the house at five in the morning without first having my coffee. But I didn’t want to be late and deal with Gloria’s annoying looks—it was too early for that. Gloria was the one who’d thought about me when her assistant called in sick the night before, and of course I was interested. The pay wasn’t anything to crow over, but still, money was money. I was excited, and I thought that, if I tagged along, maybe it would inspire me in another direction. At this point I had no idea what I was about to do with the rest of my life. I’d postponed college to pursue a career in modeling, and there was only so long I could depend on my father financially. I had to figure out my next move, and fast.
Inside the loft, there were roughly thirty people on the set: a styling team, which Gloria managed, a tailor, hairstylist, and makeup artist, and the rest of the crew: handymen who’d built up the set for the backdrop. It was a two-day shoot; you needed a big group to make a quick project happen. After Gloria introduced me to the team, she led me down a hall that opened to several rooms. We continued to the end, coming into a large room that was to be used for prepping models. Inside, there were already two girls getting their hair and makeup done. On the opposite corner, racks and racks of earth-toned clothing were all gathered up against the wall.
“Hmm, this dress.” Gloria held out a floral, embroidered tea-length gown.
“Oh, how pretty … I want it.”
“Sure, it can be yours for only twenty thousand dollars.”
“That’s all? What a steal,” I said. Before I could look through the rack, Gloria reached over and held my arm.
“Wait! Are your hands clean?” Gloria asked, and my mouth hung slightly open. I could deal with Gloria’s antics, but this was too early in the morning, and I still hadn’t had my coffee. I was beginning to think she was the real problem on the set—not Simon.
“Yes, they are, mother.” I laughed because she was giving me a dead-on stare.
“Don’t think I didn’t see you wolf down a doughnut earlier. I just want to make sure you don’t get any chocolate on a five-thousand-dollar skirt,” Gloria said, checking off a list in her hands.
I’d enjoyed that doughnut, too! Getting dropped by Dania was the best thing that could have happened. Now I could eat whatever the hell I wanted without feeling guilty about it.
“What? This little thing cost five thousand dollars? Seriously?” My mind couldn’t get around the fact that this tiny piece of fabric was worth more than I had in my bank account.
“Yes, and the designer will have my head on a silver platter and my ass in a binner if her samples come back damaged.”
“Binner? That’s not even a word,” I mused.
“Yes, it is … the bin,” Gloria said. “Trash can?”
“You’re so weird.” My eyes focused back on the collection. “Shit, if I had these clothes in my closet, I would never complain that I had nothing to wear.” I sighed, my fingers touching the delicate fabric of the ruffled garments. I wished I could play dress-up, because these clothes were a work of art. Bruno Ortiz’s designs embraced many types of women and sizes. His passion was reflected in the clothing he creates; that’s what the Colombian designer did best. Good grief, if only I weren’t so broke.
“Who are you kidding? You’ll still complain.” Gloria looked down at my feet. “Good choice of footwear, by the way. It’s a good thing you’re wearing my loafers, because the first day of the shoot is always the longest.”
She took a sip from her coffee cup. Gloria was four years older and shorter than me. She wore a bare minimum of makeup, her dark hair worn long and straight like it always had been.
“Tell me something. We don’t live together, so how the hell do you get your hands on my stuff?” Gloria’s job was to select styles and accessories to create a whole storyline behind a fashion photo, almost like they’d became characters on their own. Her experience was vast; she’d done everything from print to television advertising campaigns. In my opinion, she had the best job. It gave her access to designer duds, sometimes all at a fraction of the price or even better—free. So, naturally, why wouldn’t I go dabbling in her closet from time to time?
“I have a key to your apartment.” I beamed. “Kidding. Tracy lets me in when you’re out of town.”
“Hmm, I’ll start charging you a membership fee.” She readjusted her black-framed glasses and put her cup down on a nearby table.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get them back before I skip town,” I said.
“Keep them. I never wear them anyhow. So are you ready to start?” She smiled wickedly; God knows what she has in store for me. I had been on sets before, but never anything of this magnitude, and I was grateful that Gloria was allowing me to be a part of it. Even if it meant fetching coffee and unpacking boxes.
“Okay, so let’s do this,” I said, like I was ready to take over the world.
She laughed. “Oh, don’t get too excited … you will hate me after today.” Gloria walked a few steps and stopped in front of six boxes all stacked up.
“First, I need you to go through the packages and place the accessories on this table.” She pointed to a long white fold-out board next to the boxes.
“After that, then what?” I have a feeling I’m going to be stuck doing a lot of boring stuff.
“That’s when the real magic begins.” She smiled at me.
“Hey, Gloria,” said Steve, the makeup artist.
“Should I leave the lip bare until you decide what Jenny will wear?” Steve hovered over a model in his chair, getting her glammed up for the day.
“That sounds good.” Gloria looked around the room. “Ah, where’s Vanessa?”
“She’s not coming,” said the other model who was getting her hair blown out.
“What do you mean she’s not coming?”
“When I left the apartment this morning, Vanessa was coming in from a night of partying.”
“Well, he called it.” Gloria bit her lip and looked down at her phone. “This is not good … have you ever seen a six-foot man have a tantrum? Well, Mable, it’s your lucky day.” I couldn’t believe someone like Simon, so calm and in control, could have a temper, but then again, Gloria knew him better.
“If you have questions, Mable, I’ll be in the other room, trying to track this girl down. Shit, wish me luck,” Gloria said over her shoulder, walking into the hallway.
I was halfway through emptying a box when I heard footsteps coming from behind me.
“Nice view,” a deep voice said, and I stood up quickly, realizing someone had full sight of my back.
“Excuse me? That’s inappropriate.” I turned to find Simon standing there. Something on his face made me realize he wasn’t talking about me.
“Yes, it would be if I were addressing your assets, love.” He frowned. “But I was talking about the view from the window. I was thinking of having a few shots taken along this wall.” There was a low laugh coming from a girl steaming out the clothing in the corner.
“Oh.” I should have felt like an idiot, but I didn’t.
I knew that the fashion industry was surrounded by predators, and harassment was not uncommon. You needed to protect yourself, because if you didn’t, nobody would. I, unfortunately, had had to find that out for myself.
Once, my agent Dania had sent me on an audition test shoot, and I was excited because the photographer had worked with several luxury brands. But things quickly became weird when the photographer talked about how he always had sex with models. He asked me to remove everything but my underwear. I knew I had to get out of there quickly. I went back to my agent and told her what happened, and I was surprised by the lack of support. She laughed it off like it was nothing. “You need to grow a thick skin. It’s part of the business, darling. Men will be men, and they creep around when it comes to young pretty girls. Yes, he’s a flirt, but he’s harmless. The next time just tell him you have a boyfriend and that should set him straight.” This was my job; I didn’t sign up for any harassment or abuse. I wasn’t delusional. I knew this wasn’t normal behavior, and it shouldn’t have been acceptable. I would always stand my ground, no matter who it was. But, then again, there were good guys in this business; you just had to figure out which wolves wore sheepskin. I hoped Simon wasn’t a creep.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” His tone was assertive, a way to intimidate me.
“Well, I thought you were okay with it. Besides, I’m here helping you out.” I caught him suppressing a smile, and I knew he was messing with me.
“I didn’t know you were Gloria’s cousin,” he said finally, fiddling with his camera.
“Yeah, her mom is my dad’s sister,” I said, opening another box filled with custom jewelry, all individually wrapped.
“So … a spitfire … Does it run in the family?”
“I heard that!” Gloria’s voice came from another room.
“Shit, I forgot she has bionic ears.” His eyes shut for a moment, then opened again, focusing back to mine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way … I’m such an arse,” he said.
The first thing I notice when people first learn of my disability is how uncomfortable it makes them, like everything they say might offend me, even if the comments are not directed to my hearing loss. But I don’t get offended, and I’m not ashamed of my condition. This is a part of who I am. This is my normal.
“It’s all right. I’m not super sensitive,” I said, and he went quiet for a minute. “You said nothing wrong.”
“So, Gloria tells me you’re giving up on modeling and leaving New York.”
“Well, it’s for the best,” I said with a wry grin.
“Funny, I didn’t take you for a quitter.”
“What?”
“Well, you said you were stubborn … a brick wall.”
I glanced up. He’s trying to figure me out, and I don’t know how I feel about that. I like to read people, not the other way around. “I am, but I’m not a quitter, Okay. I got dropped by my agent.”
“So what? Doesn’t mean you should throw in the towel.”
“Apparently, I have nothing to offer,” I said, my tone carrying an easy nonchalance.
“Who said that?”
“Like, all the agencies in the vicinity of New York.” I lifting my hand to the window.
He walked toward me, kneeling down to my level. At first, I was mystified at what he was doing.
“The main thing I’ve learned in this business is that the ones who think they know it all are those who know jack shit. Don’t allow people to make you feel you have nothing to offer when you do.” He dragged his eyes across my face. “They’re nothing but puppets, looking for the next person to exploit and cash in. Nah, you don’t want to work with these people, anyway.”
His eyes softened, and I wanted to believe him. There was nothing I desired more than to travel the world and have a job I’d always dreamed of doing, but how could I break through and make it happen?
“I’ve made up my mind.”
“Well, maybe you’re right. You’re just not cut out for it … You don’t have the hunger or the drive, so what’s the point, right? No one will hire you … no other agency will want you.”
“I—Well, it’s more than that.” I faltered. “I made a deal with my dad. If my career went nowhere within a year, then I would come home and continue my studies.”
“Tell me something,” he said, eyeing me. “What made you want to do this in the first place?”
As I stared at him for a moment, I was trying to figure out how much I wanted to reveal.
“Growing up, I was made fun of because of the way I talked.” I swallowed, turning away to empty out another box. “I don’t know. I thought if I were pretty enough, maybe all my troubles would go away. So it became a long-held dream of mine.” My mom had been a model in the eighties, mainly for catalogs, but she gave it up once I was born. I guess I wanted to be just like her, but I left that part out.
“You don’t need to be a mannequin to validate your self-worth, Mable. You’re beautiful, and I think there’s nothing wrong in the way you talk. But if this is your dream—”
“It is.” My stomach flipped. The thing that stuck in my mind was that he wasn’t bothered by the sound of my voice— he thought I was beautiful, was nice too.
“So, what’s stopping you?” He frowned.
“I told you.”
“No, that’s not a reason, it’s an excuse,” Simon said. “The only person who’s stopping you is—you. This agent … whoever the fuck she is, I bet she’s never modeled a day in her life. You should respect only the opinion of someone who’s been through it.” He gently brushed my hair away from my face. “You need to find someone who will push and support you. Bottom line, you need the right person to represent you.”
He was genuine, wanting to encourage me, even though he barely knew anything about me.
“You need to fight for the things you want in life, Mable, or else what’s the point of breathing?” His eyes expressed tenderness, and it touched me more than words could say.
“Try not to destroy the dress, Emily. I have to get it back in one piece.” We both looked up to find Gloria talking to the girl steaming the dress in the corner.
“Uh—Simon? We’ve got a problem.” Gloria watched Simon as he straightened up.
“Don’t say it.”
“Vanessa—”
“Nope, I’m not listening.”
“She didn’t show up.” Gloria quickly added.
He sucked in a breath. “And that’s what I was afraid of.” He walked a few feet and set up his equipment.
“So what’s the plan?” Gloria said, following him in his steps.
“Not my circus, mate,” he answered without glancing up.
“Oh no, no—this is your spectacle, and you’re the ringleader,” Gloria said, glancing my way. “Simon, seriously, we have so many samples to go through and I don’t want to be here all night. What’s the solution?” She leaned over, smacking his arm.
“Mable, you’re my witness, see the abuse I get?” He gave me a teasing smile, sighed when he glanced back at Gloria. “You want me to repeat it? Vanessa is unreliable, a poor choice for the shoot. This is Elaine’s fault. Either she comes up with a quick fix, or we’ll handle it.”
“Ugh. You know it will blow our budget. Maybe we should call Elaine and let her decide what to do.”
“What? Is she not here? Hmm … I was wondering why the temperature hadn’t dropped.” Simon smirked.
“Get serious, will you?” Gloria looked at him flatly.
“Who’s Elaine?” I asked.
“The most wretched woman you’ll ever meet,” Simon said, allowing his camera to hang by his side. “That woman is off her rocker.”
“The editor of Elite magazine,” Gloria clarified.
“Hey, Simon, the first drama of the day and you’re mellowed out?” Noah said from across the room.
“I’m calm, mate, but internally it’s a whole different story.” Simon tapped his chest and shot a look my way. “I have to keep a cool head; we have family here today. I don’t want to scare her off … not just yet.”
He winked at me, bringing his attention back to my cousin.
“Please, Gloria, see if you can get ahold of Vanessa.”
“Not my circus.” She sang his words back to him. “I’m the stylist, not your assistant.”
“Come on, mate. I’m asking you for a favor—as a friend. You know it’s bad enough I have to work with Vanessa. I can’t call her, and you know that.” The way he said it led me to believe that there was something that had happened between them.
“All right, but you owe me, Simon.”
“Whatever you want, consider it yours.”
“I’m not joking; one day I will collect,” Gloria said, storming out of the room.
“Mable?” Noah, the hairdresser, was cleaning his brushes and setting them aside.
“Yes.” I looked up from the table. Gloria would be proud that I had everything unpacked and color-coordinated.
“I couldn’t help listening to your conversation with Simon. I know someone who works at Next agency. I could call them, if you like?” Noah’s dark hair flopped when he spoke.
“I appreciate it, I really do, but I don’t think it’s for me, quite frankly.” I smiled.
“Well, don’t feel bad, honey. It’s not for everyone. The competition is fierce, and this business has its setbacks. I’m sure you’ll find something better for yourself.”
Before I could say another word, an unrecognizable girl came rolling in. She walked in with such force, as if expecting people to stop what they were doing just to look at her.
She tossed her glasses on the table, revealing the dark circles under her eyes. Her auburn hair had a straw-like texture that was hidden under a black beanie. She looked so defeated, I almost didn’t believe it was the same person I’d seen on the cover of all those fashion magazines. And, for a moment, I caught her attention.
“What are you looking at?” she yelled, and I diverted my eyes away. I didn’t bother getting into the drama. Instead, I piled up the cardboard boxes and placed them off to the side.
“You’re late, and you look like shit. A night of partying when you know we have the biggest issue to shoot the next morning? Not smart,” Gloria said, walking into the room.
“Why don’t you mind your own business? I don’t have to answer to you,” Vanessa snapped.
“Hey, don’t speak to Gloria like that. Her job depends on your showing up—have a little more respect.” Simon glared, walking in right behind Gloria.
“What are you, my father? I could talk to her any way I want,” Vanessa hollered back.
Simon’s expression went flat.
“Noah, Steve, let’s get her prepped and see what we can work with before Elaine shows up,” Gloria said, trying to defuse the situation.
“Gloria, forget it. There’s no amount of cake that will cover a night of partying. Send her home.” Simon turned to walk away. “I can’t work with unprofessional people.”
“Oh, screw you, Simon,” Vanessa shrieked.
Simon paused in his steps before turning around.
“You’re embarrassing yourself, Vanessa, and you’re embarrassing me. It’s obvious you’re not here to work, so just go home, please,” Simon said calmly. Realizing everyone in the room was watching, he walked out.
Vanessa grabbed her purse with such force, darting straight after Simon and slamming the door to his office on the way in.
“Drama, drama, drama,” Noah murmured.
“Crap, if we don’t shoot soon, we will lose the light and this day will be a complete loss,” Gloria said, picking out a few accessories and placing them aside.
“What’s her problem?” I asked.
“She—” Gloria stopped, interrupted by the loud voices coming down the hall.
“Yeah, well, I’m fucking done,” Vanessa yelled. “Who do you think you are? This is bullshit … I will sue your ass off, Simon,” the model said as she stormed down the hallway, her exit followed by a big thud.
“Vanessa! Vanessa,” Gloria called out.
“Let her go.” Simon appeared, leaning against the doorframe.
“Way to go, Simon.” Gloria looked utterly defeated.
His lips were tight. “You know I refuse to work like that, and I’ve given her plenty of chances before.”
“So now what? We’re definitely in a pickle,” Gloria murmured.
Simon’s eyes pegged me from across the room. “No, we’re not.”
“Plan B? Oh hell, Simon. Elaine won’t agree to it.”
“She will. I’m Simon Rowe,” he said, his eyes radiating with confidence.
“You can’t just do whatever you want.”
“Watch me.” Simon pushed himself off the doorframe and walked farther into the room. “Let’s get Mable ready.” He turned to Gloria, talking as if I weren’t even in the room.
“Ready for what?” My heart raced.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Simon shrugged.
“We won’t get paid,” Noah snorted.
“Hello? Guys?” I was trying to get a word in, but no one was listening.
“If Elaine is not happy with the results, I’ll pay for everything,” Simon said.
“You’re insane,” Gloria pressed.
“Sure I am.” Simon gave her one of those confident, sexy smiles that I loved. “Trust me, she’ll be right.”
“Guys! Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” I asked. They were both staring at my face as if they’d seen me for the first time.
“We have a problem, and you’re the solution.” Simon stepped closer.
“Me? But you haven’t seen my portfolio—I’m not.”
“I don’t need proof. I know how the camera will react to you. But I have to warn you, I’m very demanding on the set. I don’t want you to hold back, not from me—ever. I want it all … all of you.”
I gazed at him for a moment. I was balancing on the fence. On one side, I wasn’t willing to move away from the pain of disappointment, and on the other, I wanted to give him my wholehearted all. This was my opportunity to see my face inside Elite magazine.
“I don’t know—” I twisted my fingers in my other hand.
“Mable, don’t throw in the towel. You walk away now, think about the future you might be sacrificing. If you don’t buy the damn ticket, how do you expect to win the lotto?”
“It’s kind of impossible to win.” I gave him a sideways smile.
“Not with me.” A big smile plastered across his face; his eyes had magic in them, like he could make anything happen. Simon thought this could be monumental for my career. He believed in me, and when someone has that kind of faith in you, you can move mountains.
“So are you in?”
And an unstoppable force squeezed a yes out of me.