The Power of Salvation

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The Power of Salvation Page 16

by Passarelli, Caterina


  Just looking at these sexy clothes in my hands, I begin sweating. This can’t be good. How the hell am I supposed to go through with this? I’m not a model. I’m not sexy. I’m not meant to be photographed for something like this. Oh my gosh, there will be other people watching out there.

  Just as my hand reaches the door about to push it open and tell Lisa to hell with this ridiculous plan, I hear her say, “Stop second-guessing yourself. Cut the shit right this instant. You are a gorgeous woman; you will look stunning in that lingerie and you are doing this to help me. To help Luke, to help this brand. We need this photo shoot to happen. We need you Ariana.”

  There’s a part of me that would feel horrible about letting someone down—especially Lisa or Luke. Before I can think about this any longer, I strip off my pencil skirt and blouse and replace my white cotton undies with this lacy pair of red bikinis. Once the matching red teddy is in place, I glance up to stare at myself in the full-length mirror.

  Fair skin.

  That’s all I see.

  “Come out of that room right now before I come in there,” Lisa yells.

  Stepping out of dressing room I look to the ground to avoid eye contact. I’m normally a pretty confident person—I know that I’m pretty in terms of general attraction, but this is so different for me.

  “Holy shit!” Lisa exclaims.

  I try pulling the teddy down to cover my bare legs but realize that only shows more of my C-cup cleavage that’s being pushed up on full display.

  “That bad?” Ugh, this was such a stupid idea. I’m going to ruin this for Luke and Lisa.

  “Bad? You look incredible! Your legs look insanely hot and your boobs, girl, who knew you were hiding those under your scrubs?” She laughs as she continues hitting on me. “Here, put on this robe and sit down. I’ll have hair and makeup in here in just a minute.”

  Hair and makeup go by in a blur; I wish I could have relaxed more to enjoy being pampered. It’s not every day you are treated like a princess. The stylist, Kristine, is so kind, but I’m spitting out answers to her questions without really remembering what she’s even asking me. I’m working through my nerves.

  Luke hasn’t appeared since I agreed to Lisa’s hair-brained scheme, making me nervous that he doesn’t think I can do this. He didn’t say anything but his opposition when the idea was pitched. If the man I’m sleeping with doesn’t have the faith that I can model half-naked … who else is going to believe in me? I’m praying to the Photoshop gods that they don’t really need a model, just a body they can warp into anything … including a hot model. That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.

  “You’re all set Ariana, you look beautiful!” Kristine encourages me while putting down her brush. She gives my long, curled, Old Hollywood-styled brunette locks a final spritz of hairspray. She spins my chair around and now it’s my jaw that drops. Pinch me.

  “Damn Kristine, the Pope should anoint you into the Sainthood—you’ve just performed a miracle,” I say, staring at my reflection. The reflection I cannot believe belongs to me. To go along with my killer hair that I’ll never be able to replicate, Kristine performed wizardry to give me a sultry yet romantic smoky eye and red lip.

  “Okay you can head out towards the set. They’re ready for you,” Kristine says, egging me out of the comfort zone of this chair. I pull my silk robe a little tighter and head back towards where we came in just an hour ago. No one seems to notice I’ve left the dressing room, which I’m thankful for. I spot Neil and the male model—where are Lisa and Luke? With the two people I know nowhere to be found, I walk in the direction of Neil.

  “I’m ready, let’s get this over with,” I say as I approach Neil.

  He stops to stare at me and smiles an ear-to-ear grin. “Lose the robe and let’s do this.” I didn’t think I’d ever hear anyone—let alone a photographer—say those words to me. “And while you’re at it, perk up doll. This is an opportunity so many girls would die for. Don’t be an ungrateful cow.”

  I should be seriously insulted, but instead I laugh. He’s right. I know this is completely outside of what I’m comfortable with, but I shouldn’t treat them like they’re torturing me.

  “Fair enough.”

  I do as he says, slowly removing the robe. The chilly air hits my barely covered skin, causing my body to break out in goose bumps. When I finally have myself as ready as I’ll ever be, I put my robe on a nearby chair. The male model starts strutting towards me. He’s wearing a pair of black designer boxer briefs … and that’s it. He’s all tan skin, dark thick hair, rippling muscles, flawless skin, and teeth entirely too white and too fake. I mean he’s not my type whatsoever, but goddamn, I can see what others might see in him.

  Now this is a model.

  “Hey, I’m Colton,” model man says, extending his hand towards me.

  “Ariana, nice to meet you. I want to apologize in advance that I have no idea what I’m doing,” I say, shaking his hand.

  “Don’t worry. This isn’t mine or Neil’s first rodeo. We’ll help you. Thanks for stepping in; I wouldn’t have been able to do this shoot if it had to be rescheduled. This is a big opportunity for me.”

  I instantly feel bad for judging him because he seems so nice and appreciative. Before we can get to know each other much longer, Neil is shouting for us to get on the set because he needs to do a couple test shots. Like a lost puppy, I follow Colton towards the bed and just stand there feeling like a complete idiot.

  “Ariana, the point of today’s shoot is seduction. We want this new drink to kick off the holiday campaign to bring in the New Year. You will be the temptress,” he says, eyeing me like he’s not quite sure he thinks I’m following. “But don’t worry, Colton will quickly give in. The drink should be on display at all times. You’ll both play around with it in your hands.”

  Drink, seduce, holidays, temptress. Okay, got it.

  My nerves realize that this is about to happen.

  “Fake it ’til you make it,” Colton whispers into my ear; he must see pure panic on my face. Him being this close sets my nerves on edge. If him whispering to me is too much for me to handle, this is going to be so uncomfortable. I need to get my head in a good place.

  “Can I have a second?” I spit the question out in sheer panic.

  Neil gives me the most irritated look; he looks like he swallowed something sour. “Fine, two minutes. And don’t make me come to get you.”

  “Thanks!” I say as I dash over to the food table to practice a breathing routine I learned in yoga. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I focus on my breaths … in, out, in, out.

  You can do this.

  You are helping people.

  You are going to be fine. No one is going to hurt you or manipulate you.

  You are giving these people permission to touch you.

  Colton seems nice. This is his job.

  Neil is a professional.

  Breathe. Be confident. Breathe.

  Okay, this is as good as it’s ever going to get for me; the longer I stand over here, the longer this whole process takes.

  “Ready,” I say, walking towards Neil and Colton. I notice a few more people around, fixing lights, catering to Neil’s commands, and pouring alcohol into a crisp clear glass. Yet no Lisa or Luke.

  Why did they leave me in my time of need?

  Okay that was dramatic. A photo shoot is not a ‘time of need’ but I sure as hell could use a friendly familiar face.

  “I want you to stand close to the bed and put your hand on Colton’s chest,” Neil commands, his face disappearing behind the camera lens.

  I walk over to Colton, repeating the “Fake it ’til you make” mantra to myself. Touching a strange man makes me feel just as uneasy as him touching me.

  “These are just test shots, relax,” Colton says as I near him. I really am appreciative of him. I could be paired up with an egotistical jerk treating me like I don’t know anything, which I don’t, but instead he’s trying to help m
e.

  I do as Neil says and place my shaky hand on Colton’s broad chest.

  “You’re going to have to get closer to him, dear,” Neil jokes from behind the camera. He’s right; I’m standing at arm’s length away. If I could be any farther from him I’d probably be in another room. I slowly inch my way closer but Colton takes matters into his own hands, pulling me into his chest. I’m standing so close to him that I can smell his strong cologne, placing my hand on his oily tanned muscular pecs.

  “That’s great Ariana, now look into Colton’s eyes … bedroom eyes girl. Work it,” Neil barks orders at me.

  Bedroom eyes? What the fuck are those?

  I stare up at Colton trying to give him a look. I hope the look says ‘bedroom eyes’ because I don’t think I’ve ever given bedroom anything to anyone before.

  “Great, great,” Neil keeps encouraging us. Colton winks to let me know I’m not completely fucking this up.

  Okay I can do this.

  We do a few more test shots—me holding onto his bicep, Colton giving me the bedroom eyes, and both of us taking turns holding the glass of vodka. Neil calls for a quick break so he can review the photographs. His interns jump into motion, moving light fixtures and rearranging sheets.

  Taking that as a hint to move out of the way, I walk over to the food cart and stand awkwardly with Colton, sipping on a glass of water. There’s no sign of Lisa or Luke. I glance over to the clock and realize that the test shots only took 15 minutes. Damn, in my head that took hours upon hours. I guess that’s what happens when you are having an anxiety attack.

  “Let’s do this thing!” Neil calls us over and it’s go time.

  We take more shots like we did standing near the bed, looking into each other’s eyes with our hands slightly on one another. It’s nothing too threatening or uncomfortable for me. I should get an award for coming out of my shell and letting a complete stranger touch me. My therapist would freak out if she knew I was doing this.

  I try my best to keep a lookout for Luke, but it’s hard to do at the same time as giving ‘bedroom eyes’ to Colton.

  “Okay Ariana, lay down on the bed. Colton is going to hover over you. We’ll do a few shots like that and then he’ll kiss you.”

  Kiss me?

  “Oh honey, don’t be a prude,” Neil orders. I must have expressed my shock out loud. Where the hell is Luke? Will he care that I’m kissing this dude? I mean it’s fake … acting … but still. Well I guess he has to know; this is his company’s photo shoot and all.

  I lay down on the bed, glancing at my wardrobe to make sure everything important is still tucked away; I don’t need the cameras getting a glimpse of anything they shouldn’t. I feel the bed dip low as Colton takes his place above me. Neil starts snapping away as he encourages us to keep looking at each other and touch one another.

  “Flirt with him Ariana, show him how irresistible you are.”

  This is my nightmare. For a girl who has avoided these kinds of interactions with guys, I don’t know how to do this whatsoever, but I keep on faking it.

  “Okay, now kiss. I want to see steamy passion,” Neil shouts.

  Colton leans down to grab my face in his hands, planting a sloppy kiss on my lips. We miss each other’s mouths and clumsily try to correct ourselves. My nerves are in my throat.

  “Stop,” a deep voice growls from behind us. Just like that everything freezes. Neil stops barking commands, Colton stands up, leaving me laying there feeling exposed, assistants stop doing whatever it was they were doing, and I swear time stands still. Everyone is silent and a little frightened.

  I prop myself up on my elbows to see what the commotion is about to find Luke glaring at us. I’ve never seen him look this angry before. If smoke could come out of a person’s ears like in the cartoons, that would be happening.

  Lisa runs up beside him and pats his arm before whispering something in his ear. It looks like she’s trying to calm him down, but whatever she says doesn’t register with him. His eyes are locked on me. I glance down to see his fists are clenched tightly; he looks like he’s ready to throw an uppercut at anyone who comes too close.

  “This photo shoot is over,” Luke demands through gritted teeth.

  “No, please, for the love of god, Luke.” Lisa throws her hands in the air clearly annoyed with her little brother. “We cannot reschedule. We’ve already gone over this.”

  “I don’t give a shit about rescheduling. I said it’s done.”

  Lisa takes a step back, looking like she’s just been smacked. I don’t know much about their brother-sister dynamic, but I’m going to guess by the look on her face Luke does not talk back to her often.

  Neil calmly walks over to them, and I take my cue to slip on a robe and join in the conversation.

  “Okay, let’s fix this. Why do you want to cancel this shoot?” Neil asks gently, as if he’s walking on eggshells. He seems to have lost the attitude. I don’t blame the poor guy because these are his bosses.

  “She’s not going to be modeling,” Luke spits out as he nods in my direction. Now I’m the one who feels like she’s been smacked as my jaw drops in disbelief that he’s just said that in front of a bunch of people. Way to knock my confidence to the ground. Luke thinks I’m good enough to fuck around with but apparently I’m not good enough to be a model for his stupid vodka company. I want to bolt out the door, but I remember that I’m half naked and have no ride.

  Lisa is the first to speak up for me. “Luke, why can’t Ariana model? She’s doing great!”

  “No.”

  And with one word he has me fighting back stupid tears that are making their way to my eyeballs. Goddamn it.

  “Is there a different model you prefer? One that we could get here in under an hour?” Neil asks Luke.

  “How the fuck do I know? Do you think I have a male model database?” Luke angrily asks.

  “Male model?” Lisa, Neil, and I all say at the same time. “I thought you wanted Ariana replaced?” Lisa adds.

  “Ariana is fine,” Luke says without making eye contact with me, “but he has got to go.”

  “I don’t understand what’s going on here. You want to replace the only actual model we have in this shoot?” Neil seems perplexed.

  “Can I talk to my brother for a minute in private?” Lisa asks. Neil and I start walking away to give them space but Lisa lets me know I can stay. I’m not sure I really want to hear this conversation, but I don’t want to piss off one of the few people on my side, so I stay.

  “Okay brother, what’s your deal? Why do you want Colton gone?”

  “He’s being really helpful,” I whisper. I suddenly feel extremely bad for Colton, who already told me he needs this photo shoot for his career.

  “What did you just say?” Luke turns his body to face me. I don’t know why I said it but he’s pissed, really pissed. I pull my silk robe a little tighter to act as a shield against his rage.

  “I said he’s being really helpful. This is scary. I came out here all alone, you and Lisa nowhere to be found. Colton has been helping me feel slightly less of an asshole pretending to parade around like a model,”—I notice I’m rambling but the words just spill out—“which you clearly do not have faith that I can do. You haven’t said one nice thing about me helping you since the idea was pitched. You don’t think I’m pretty enough to model? Tell me.”

  Luke glares at me.

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I think you’re pretty enough to be a model. You look fucking breathtaking out there. I want to fucking kill that guy for having his hands on you … his lips.”

  “You’re jealous?” Lisa squeaks out, looking a little too excited. Why is this a good thing that he’s jealous? Is he really jealous? Of what? Jealousy is not a trait that should be rewarded. “I’ve got an idea then. If you don’t want Ariana to pose with Colton, you be the model. We need to get this done,” she says as she points her finger into his chest, clearly loving her own idea.

&n
bsp; “I’m not going to be a model. You know better than to say something like that,” he says.

  “Why not?” Lisa asks.

  I’m pretending I’m invisible during this whole conversation.

  Luke gives his sister a death stare. “I don’t put myself in the public.”

  My very limited Google searching of him does confirm this. I didn’t find anything from him in a direct source—no interviews, no articles, no posed photo shoots. Everything was taken from the paparazzi—of course of him in his tailored business suits with random women on his arm. As for a bio, there’s only a brief one put together by ‘fans’ but it has little information.

  Luke is a Man of Mystery to the public eye. To all eyes, except mine. Do I want to share him with others? I squirm with my indecision and notice the conversation around me got suddenly quiet. Lisa and Luke are now staring at me.

  “Are you okay?” Lisa asks. I fumble my words telling them I’m fine. Lisa believes my lie and turns to face Luke. “So are you going to do it or is Colton?”

  “Fine,” Luke says like an irritated child through gritted teeth.

  “Fine?” Both Lisa and I repeat in utter shock.

  “Don’t make me change my mind and cancel this whole thing. I don’t give a fuck right now about this photo shoot, but I don’t want you to be upset,” Luke says to his sister.

  Lisa squeals and gives him a kiss on his cheek before sprinting off towards Neil to tell him the show will go on. Luke is whisked away to his own dressing room, as I stuff snacks from the food table gracelessly into my mouth. Get me the fuck out of here.

  A now fully clothed Colton is waking towards me and says, “Hey. So that was … interesting.”

  “I’m so sorry they pulled you off the shoot. You were doing a great job and I really appreciate you trying to help me.”

  I’ve never talked to someone after they’ve gotten fired, especially when it’s because of me.

  “Don’t worry, at least they paid me. I do wish I could have continued the shoot with you,” he winks at me, making me feel a little uneasy. “Don’t let yourself get controlled, okay?”

  He doesn’t give me time to respond. He just walks away and out the warehouse door.

 

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