by Amy Lynn
Tomorrow I’ll go see Abram Kent and find out what he knows. If any skeletons are coming out of my closet, they’re going to come from my lips and not from daddy’s little hot shot.
Chapter 23
Ava
We are set to leave for Mia’s photo shoot in an hour, and I still haven’t heard from her. She left dinner early last night saying she didn’t feel well and would call me in the morning to meet for breakfast. Worried, I ring her room but get no answer. I try her cell phone and finally after the third try, she answers.
Well, sort of. All I can hear are sounds, and not very good ones. It sounds like she is vomiting.
“Mia, are you okay?” I ask.
After a few seconds, I get a response from her.
“No.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Mia answers the door with a trash can held to her chin and quickly sprints back to the bathroom as another wave of nausea hits. Concerned, I quickly follow to see if I can help.
She heaves a few times while I prepare a cool washcloth to apply it to the back of her neck.
“You think its food poisoning?”
She shakes her head giving me a slightly sheepish look. “No. I know exactly what this is.”
“Oh. Well, I’m not trying to be insensitive here, but is it contagious?"
Mia shakes her head again and gives a half smile. “It’s morning sickness.”
“Oh, Mia.” I want to congratulate her and be excited, but I hardly felt now would be a good time.
I wasn’t really sure what a pregnant woman with morning sickness needed, but I couldn’t sit here and do nothing. I know what always helps me when I’m feeling ill, so I called room service and made my request.
Ten minutes later, I had what I hoped was some sort of relief for Mia. I took the saltines and ginger ale to the bathroom and set them on the sink. Mia looks pale and still a little green, as I wet and reapply the washcloth to her neck. I have a feeling this is far from over.
“You have to do me a favor,” Mia half pleads with me as she clutches her stomach.
I hate seeing her this way, so I answer. “Anything.”
“Do the photo shoot with Rue.”
“What do you mean?”
“Be the model for Reign.”
“What?” I shout. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I’ve already told them I can’t make it, and I’m sending a replacement.”
“Mia...I’m honored that you would ask me, but I am hardly model material.”
“You can do this, Ava. Now go and make me proud.”
“There has to be another way...”
“Ava, please. Just do this for me.”
I blow out a breath in defeat. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
When I arrived at Rue, everything seemed to move at warp speed. I have people buzzing around me like a swarm of angry bees. One is doing my hair, one applying makeup, two arguing on what I should wear and another massaging my skin with some sort of bronzer. Is this what it feels like to be a celebrity?
About an hour later, I’m sent to wardrobe. I have no idea what they will want me to wear. I’m not much of a risk taker, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I don’t want to have any regrets.
The clothing racks are filled with long flowing gowns. Although I’m not really familiar with top designers, I know these labels are from the elite. Taking a closer look, I pull out a few gowns that catch my eye, seeing the sleek slender shape they all have, and wonder if my curves will fit. Knowing my figure is in the double digits size, I begin to panic I am in way over my head here.
To the left, there is a table of exquisite jewels, sparkling and vibrant with every color imaginable, with a guard standing at each end. I don’t need to see a weapon to know they are armed.
Two girls came in, hair up in messy buns, measuring tape around their necks, and they begin taking my measurements. I feel this pit open up in my stomach, and my anxiety level skyrockets.
“I’m...You may be wasting your time here. I’m not sure if any of these dresses are going to fit me. I’m a twelve, and these dresses are definitely not.”
“Oh, they’ll fit,” the blonde girl says eyeing me.
“Don’t worry about a thing,” the brunette girl adds.
Easy for them to say. They are size zeros.
After the two girls have a brief discussion, they pull two dresses from the rack and lead me out to the set. It is beautifully decorated, with a lush tufted chaise lounge in the center.
“We’re going to have you photographed in two gowns, mostly because we couldn’t agree on which one to put you in,” the blonde say smiling to the brunette at her side. “And we’ll let them decide."
“Plus, it’s never bad to have options, right?” the brunette adds.
The blonde takes me to a curtained area with her dress choice and helps me slip into the dress. The gown, as I suspected is way too small, and there is absolutely no way my boobs are going to fit into these little cups. The girl simply rips the dress below the zipper until she can slide the fabric up over my hips and asks me to hold the top in place the best I can to cover myself. With a tuck here and there to hide the girls, she takes a few steps back and smiles from ear to ear.
“Jesus. You’re stunning.”
“But what about the top? It doesn’t fit.”
“Oh, but it does.”
She takes me by the hand and leads me out to the set, yelling something to the brunette I don’t quite catch and motions to the photographer she is ready.
With a big smile, the brunette gives me two thumbs up when our eyes meet and gives the blonde girl the finger.
The blonde girl giggles and sets off to the table of jewels to make her selection, while the male photographer tries to keep his eyes off my top. Or lack thereof.
I am adorned with a necklace and earrings, and after a moment’s thought, she adds a ring and bracelet. The pieces are all black and absolutely gorgeous, and I wonder what I must be worth standing here dripping with jewels.
Blondie gives my deep red dress a fluff and places my hair just so and steps back, telling the photographer, “She’s all yours.”
The photographer raises his brow and gives a wicked smile as the lights begin to flash, and I hear the distinct sound of the shutter open and close. Taking a calming deep breath, I wonder if it’s too late to back out.
“This is unreal,” the photographer says as he views the photo on the back of his camera. “Absolutely amazing.”
Blondie makes periodical adjustments to me here and there making sure everything is perfect. After a while, with her encouragement, I begin to feel more comfortable in my own skin. By the end of the session, I feel much more confident going into the next session.
“That’s a wrap,” the photographer says giving Blondie a high five. “You knocked it out of the park, kid.” Turning to me the photographer adds, “You looked stunning in every single frame. Picking just one is going to be tough.”
Back in the dressing area, it only takes a few seconds to get out of the gown since I wasn’t actually wearing it, and the brunette is already behind me waiting with her gown choice. Narrowing her eyes at Blondie she says, “Let’s do this.”
The gown she has selected is royal blue and is sized just as small as the last dress.
“Here. Put this on.” she says handing me a black silk robe.
Tying the belt around my waist I ask, “What’s your plan for squeezing me into that?”
A big grin forms on her face. “That’s just it. I’m not.” She steps over to the guarded table and selects jewels that match the dress perfectly. “This shoot isn’t about the gown or the jewelry. It’s about you.” Leading me to out to the set, she sits me down behind an elaborately lit vanity. The kind that has the big round bulbs along each side. She lays the jewelry out carefully and hangs the dress up behind me on a partially open faux closet door. “Everything here is a mere accessory,” she says gesturing to the jewels. “A
nyone with the
money can have it. You, however, are unique. There is only one you.”
I give her a tiny smile even though her words have brought tears to my eyes. She turns my face towards her and begins to apply bright red lipstick to my lips. “Any man can possess all the jewels in the world if he wishes, but you are the one priceless treasure that can never be bought. Always remember that.” She hands me the lipstick tube when she is finished and adds, “Use that for a few of the shots.”
With the photographer back on set, we begin session two. I am no longer nervous and with the kind words the brunette said to me, the photographer gets the shots he needs in record time.
After I change back into my clothes, the photographer explains the photos will be edited and sent to me for approval before the event. “Due to some of the participants and their busy schedules, the Reign charity event won’t be until late next year. Just be patient and be on the lookout for your invitation.”
After signing a model release form, I head back to the hotel to check on Mia.
Not wanting to wake her if she is sleeping, I lightly knock on the door. There is no answer. After waiting a few awkward minutes in the hall, I decide to go back to my room.
It feels a bit odd to be so far away from Brad. I feel...relieved? I don’t know. I hate to think that was the reason, but I did feel different somehow. In a good way. Lately, I just feel as if I’m walking on eggshells around him. One cross remark could set him off and put another emotional dent in our already fragile relationship. Wanting to bridge the gap between us, I decide to give Brad a call.
He answers on the third ring, “Hello?” He sounds out of breath, and the room he’s in echoes a huskier version of my husband’s voice back to me.
“Hey, it’s just me checking in. Is everything okay?”
“Um, yeah, fine,” he quickly replies. I can tell he moved to a different room as the echo has fully disappeared when he speaks. “Listen, now isn’t a good time, Ava. I’ll call you back later.”
Then he hangs up.
Well, so much for that.
The next day, I get a call from Mia. Thankfully, she is feeling much better and asks if I want to join her for a bit of sightseeing and shopping.
Thirty minutes later, I meet her downstairs and after grabbing coffee, we set off for a little retail therapy.
“Have you had a chance to talk to Brad about extending your trip when you visit your parents?”
“I called him last night, but we didn’t get around to discussing it.” I hated lying to Mia, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth either. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Suddenly, Mia grabs my hand and gasps. “Mind if we go inside?”
I look through the storefront window and see the adorable tiny pink and blue outfits hanging just beyond the glass accompanied by a large stuffed stork with a baby wrapped in a blanket hanging from its bill. I pull open the door. “After you.”
The store has everything an expecting mom could want, and if I were being honest, it was all a bit overwhelming. Amongst the sea of pastel colored clothing, there were baby monitors, diaper genies, strollers, high chairs, swings, cribs, bassinets, pack-and-plays, and toys as far as the eyes could see. Did a newborn baby really need all this stuff?
I select a few outfits from the rack, the doll-like pieces seeming unnaturally small for anything human. The longer I browse in the store, the more I wonder if I was ready for this step in my life. Sure I want children, but was I ready now? Was Brad? I thought about Abe and wonder if he is ready to be a father, or if he just accepted it when he found out and decided to make the best of the situation. I think it is probably that way for most guys. Guys don’t sit around and daydream about holding their future baby in their arms and what they will name them like women. I doubt they even dream about the girl they’ll marry someday. We’re just wired differently, and I’ve accepted it. I’m not saying that unicorn isn’t out there, it’s just rare. Regardless, whether you do things the traditional way of getting married and starting a family or baby surprises come before vows, I think starting a family with the person you love is the most generous and rewarding gift you could ever give someone.
As I close my eyes for a moment to collect my thoughts, I swear I can hear the tick of my biological clock over the sound of my own heartbeat.
“Which one do you like the best?” Mia asks holding up two tiny yellow sleepers. “I can’t decide between the two.”
I point to the one on the left, and make a mental note of the rejected one she puts back so I can come back later to purchase it.
After Mia makes her purchases and we walk around for about another hour, we head back to the hotel.
I have only been in my room for about thirty minutes when I receive a knock at the door. Figuring it was Mia; I open the door and am met with the always-elegant, Caroline Jennings.
“Caroline!” I say as I wrap her in a hug and pull her inside. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, my friends at Rue tell me you filled in for Mia Hart for the Reign shoot today. Since I had a meeting here today, I thought I’d surprise you by stopping by to see how things went. How was it?” she asks excitedly.
“Christ. I was beyond nervous, but both stylists I worked with were so encouraging. I never gave it a second thought.”
Caroline squeezes my hand. “I’m so proud of you.” She lets out a big sigh. She has that look about her, and although I never see it often, I can tell there is something troubling her. Besides, she never is good at hiding her feelings or thoughts, at least from me anyway.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“It’s that obvious? Paul said I wouldn’t be able to keep my thoughts off my face. I should have known he’d be right. I was hoping to keep it from you a little longer, but I suppose we can talk about it now if you want?” she says with a sympathetic look on her face.
“You’re scaring the hell out of me, Caroline. Please, what is it.”
“You know I have made many friends through my charities and organizations and have introduced you to a majority of them as I’ve dragged you around while attending my events. Everyone has such kind and thoughtful things to say about you, the top one being that you’re such a lovely woman….” She trails off and takes a deep breath. “Well, it’s been brought to my attention that Brad has been seen with another woman on several different occasions.”
My heart plummets at those words. “I….are they certain it was him?”
She nods and continues, “Yes.” She pulls out her cell phone and retrieves a photo from her gallery. “After seeing Brad with this woman on more than one occasion and knowing it wasn’t you, a close friend snapped a photo and asked me to verify if it was in fact Brad.” Caroline hands me the phone. “See for yourself if you’d like.”
I take the phone, but I can’t bring myself to look at it for several minutes, a million thoughts racing through my mind. Caroline rises from her chair, takes a seat at my side, and places her arm around me for support.
After a few minutes, I turn the screen and let my eyes fall to the photo.
It’s him.
He’s in a suit dressed for work, sitting on a bar stool with hair much shorter than it is now, smiling at the girl to his left. My eyes are drawn to the red dress that hugs her slender frame where Brad’s hand rests on her thigh. She has long straight brunette hair that is covering her face in a way that it’s difficult to make out her identity, and her hair is the kind of straight that mine would never succumb to. While I held out hope that this was all a huge misunderstanding, and the woman would have turned out to be myself, the fact was, the only way I could be mistaken for this girl was simply in my dreams.
As I sit staring at this very incriminating photo of my husband, it isn’t his left hand resting on her thigh that made me want to vomit. It’s his left hand absent his wedding ring that has me sprinting for the toilet.
After losing my lunch, dry heaving until my sides hurt, and
crying uncontrollably, I manage to pull myself together long enough to explain to Mia I have a family emergency, and I am taking an earlier fight back to Chicago.
As I board the plane with Caroline by my side, I wonder how I would approach Brad. Would he confess everything or simply deny it all? Was the photo really what it seemed? Was Brad cheating? It’s not that I don’t trust Caroline, but I needed more. Honestly, what evidence did I really have? Maybe the photo turns out to be nothing more than an innocent encounter, and I’ve created more problems by bringing doubt and mistrust into our marriage. As I look at the photo with Brad’s hand resting on her thigh, I begin thinking back to every night he claimed to work late, to the nights he came home drunk, and the most recent when he stood me up at the charity Halloween party with Abe kindly standing in to play the role of my ‘Beast,’ and I suddenly began to question everything he’s ever said or done. I have no way of knowing if those times were spent with her instead of me, but I needed time to figure out her identity and just how “involved” with my husband she actually was.