by Kimmy Love
“I’m dropping you off at your house. You need more rest.”
“Sure.” She shrugged.
Ben didn’t like it. She had changed in an instant. All because of what he’d said? Seriously? Wasn’t that a compliment? He had bragged about her in essence, bragged about her figure to people he found frankly annoying. That was one up on those airheads.
“I hope you haven’t forgotten you’re still on contract,” he told her later on, parking at the curb in front of the building.
“I haven’t,” she said dully.
“Call me when you’re done with your shoot on Tuesday,” he added as an afterthought.
She nodded and got out of the car. Perhaps it was that fatigue, but she didn’t really feel like talking to someone who had messed up her first gala. Call it childish, but she had been really looking forward to it. She still had the newspaper in her hand, and she looked at it, longing for a second shot with such a wonderfully swanky night.
As soon as she got home, she flopped on the couch. This is the couch we had made love on—correction, this is the couch we had sex on, she told herself drearily. She wanted to get some water, but she was too tired to walk to the kitchen. Her phone rang all of a sudden.
“Girl, you’d better tell me what’s going on!” Tyrone’s voice greeted her.
“Not now, I have a headache,” she muttered.
“Were his kisses terrible?” he laughed.
“No, no. It’s not that. We’re just dating.”
“Exclusively?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my god!” he gasped in excitement. “So today, a stylist was leafing through the daily, and then I see your face in full color, dancing with New York’s most eligible bachelor!”
“It was a fun night,” she said.
“God, you are so obvious when you lie.”
“What makes you think I’m lying?”
“You’ve been my friend for twenty years; I think I’d know a little about you. Spill.”
She gave him the whole truth of it. She was trembling at times when she spoke about their arrangement. She told him about what he would get out of it and what she would get out of it.
“Oh. My. God,” Tyrone said an hour later as she sat with her phone charging on the kitchen counter.
She braced herself for Tyrone’s usual string of harshness and butt-naked honesty.
“All right, honey, you’ve got yourself a heartbreaker. And by the way you described it, it’s too late to back out. You probably owe him fifteen thousand dollars by now.”
She sighed. Fifteen thousand dollars or more.
“But haven’t you thought about it? Maybe he’s starting to like you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I know men. I was one,” he gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Oh, by the way, I loved the billboard off of Fifth Avenue.”
“You saw it?”
“Of course I saw it. Every person that walked by saw it. I told myself, my skinny honey is making it big.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, but at the back of her mind, making it big didn’t matter anymore. Something else mattered—someone else mattered.
***
“Can I take a photo with you?” a timid photographer’s assistant asked her as Sierra took a break from the shoot.
Sierra smiled congenially, and the assistant whipped out her phone to take a selfie with her. The assistant beamed at her, thanking her profusely.
That was a first for her, and it made her feel happier than she had when her morning had started. She wasn’t shooting for sunglasses this time. It was for Ellie Saab’s catalogue and winter collection. When she’d found out about the shoot, her head was high up in the clouds. Ellie Saab? That was a dream come true. Heck, she’d had a one in seven million chance of being selected. There were four other models with her, all busy tinkering with their phones. The shoot had been going on for five hours, and she hadn’t imagined she would be this exhausted. Still, this was an opportunity of a lifetime.
She was also glad she had caught the photographer’s eye. He’d mentioned she was the most beautiful face he had seen in years, both in front of and away from the camera. It had made Sierra blush. It was half past five when Sierra finished her shoot, and she felt hungry. She hadn’t removed her makeup just yet, thinking of getting a long bath after a good binge on burgers at a restaurant near her place.
Ah, burgers and fries were such a lovely combination. The train ride was long and surprisingly eventful. A few minutes after she had stepped on the train, a young woman had asked to have a picture taken with her.
“You know me?” Sierra asked quizzically.
“You’re the face of Huntley!” the teenager exclaimed. “Sierra is a really cool name; of course I know you.”
Sierra smiled. A few moments later, a black man wearing a suit asked for a selfie, telling her his buddies were never going to believe he had met Sierra Whittaker in person. People had ogled, and she was grateful not everyone on the train knew her. It was a strange feeling, to be recognized for a few ads and a few magazine articles.
A fashion magazine hailed her as the next model to watch out for in the upcoming year. They had done a quick interview with her, a pictorial in black and white, and her face had barely had any makeup, but her beauty shone through. It had garnered quite a buzz last week and she had proudly told her family about it. Her mother promptly bought the magazine and showed it off to their neighbors.
Her phone rang before she could step into the burger joint. “Yes?”
“Is your photoshoot done?” Ben asked her, frowning when she answered formally.
“Uh-huh.”
“You didn’t call me.”
“I forgot,” she replied quickly. Her mind was on food. And why was he suddenly being so possessive now? He was playing with her again. Contract was contract. Act like a girlfriend.
“How could you forget?” he said. “I didn’t forget you were having a shoot, and I had a busy day. Where are you now?”
“Near the apartment. I’m hungry.”
He laughed from the other end of the line. “So that’s why you forgot about me. Who told you to starve?”
“It’s a model thing, but I don’t want to starve after a shoot,” she replied, finding herself smiling.
“Can your hunger wait?” he asked her.
“Unfortunately, it can’t.”
“Oh.”
She could hear the disappointment in his voice. She took a deep breath. “I can wait for dessert, though. This’ll make it our first date for the week.”
“Great,” he said, “see you in an hour. Don’t eat too many fries.”
“You aren’t the boss of me.”
“Right, that wasn’t part of the contract. Fire away,” Ben chuckled before ending the call. She laughed, shaking her head. The asshole was still charming, and she couldn’t find herself staying mad at him for long.
She wondered what had happened in his previous relationships. She was sure he had broken it off with his last girlfriend; there were whispers. She was a highly successful real estate agent, a ravishing brunette who had a good family background, yet he had broken up with her. And here she was, given a chance to do the breaking up.
She ordered a double cheeseburger with a side of fries and lemonade. It was the closest to soda, and Sierra didn’t like soda at all. She was glad Ben didn’t like soda either… she shook her head, her thoughts were drifting to Ben again after that light-hearted conversation with him. She finished her burger and fries, resisting the urge to order a second box of fries. She had just finished washing her hands when he called.
“Where are you?” he asked her.
“On my way back to the apartment.”
“Stay at the burger place. I haven’t had dinner yet. What’s it called?”
“Burger Avenue.”
She waited for him for ten minutes. She saw a flash of blond hair from outside and knew it was him. Women inside eyed him, and she didn’t
like that much.
“Hi,” he said, giving her a huge smile. He leaned in to kiss her as she sat in the booth.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the women at the other table look disappointed. Yeah, that’s right, stay away; he’s totally taken, she thought savagely. Her thoughts surprised her, and she took a deep breath.
“Hello, late dinner, huh?” she said.
“It’ll give you time to digest. Just in time for dessert.”
He ordered the same and extra fries, eyeing her while laughing. “God, maybe you should just stick to a master’s and a boring desk job. Being a model must be hard.”
“You should know. You dated a few.”
“It wasn’t this personal. I didn’t really get to know them that much,” he said with a shrug. “You’re the most fun model I’ve had the opportunity to date.”
“And make a contract with,” she murmured.
He nodded with a smile as he popped a french fry into his mouth. “Go ahead, eat a fry.”
She frowned and reached out for one, quickly eating it. “Can’t resist fries. It’s a weakness.”
What else is your weakness? Ben thought. “What would you like for dessert? Cake?”
Their conversation was interrupted by a man who looked quite nervous. Sierra looked up to see a waiter hold out his phone. “Miss Sierra, I was wondering if I could have a photo with you.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed a little but he said nothing. He watched as Sierra gamely smiled while the staff at the burger joint had their pictures taken. He’d known Sierra was making waves, but he didn’t know the waves were this big. He didn’t like how their arms were around Sierra. As soon as they profusely thanked her, Ben cleared his throat and reminded her they had to be somewhere.
“Have a great night, Miss Whittaker, Sir!” one waiter said, still unable to believe he’d had his photo taken with the prettiest face he had seen in his life. He hadn’t imagined her to be that young.
“They know you,” Ben said as they walked back to her apartment. The night was quite cold, and Sierra wrapped her coat around her tighter.
She sighed. “I sometimes can’t believe it’s happening.”
“You being famous?”
“I’m far from it,” she said.
“But you’re getting there,” he smiled. Then he recalled the men who were eager to stand beside her. “I just didn’t like them standing so close to you.”
Her head snapped up. “What? It was a photo.”
“You were being too nice.”
“They asked for a photo. What was I supposed to do? Send them away?”
He didn’t reply. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that. It made him sound jealous. He shrugged. “Well, it looked awkward to me. Like they were copping a feel or something. Anyway, cake? Or ice cream?”
Sierra’s lips pursed. He was changing the topic, and she was too tired to argue with him. “Ice cream, I guess.”
“Great.”
They walked into an ice cream parlor that was about to close in an hour. She ordered pistachio and he ordered mint and chocolate chip. Licking their cones, they walked the block back to her apartment.
“I’m glad you’re getting a lot of publicity now,” Ben suddenly said.
“Are you trying to psych the crap out of me again?” she asked. “Earlier you hated the idea that some people knew me already.”
“It’s just great to look at. We’ve got barely a month before the family reunion, so it’s a great backgrounder for you.”
Yes, the reunion. That was the point of all this, Sierra remembered. A slight pain sliced through her. She hadn’t practiced, hadn’t braced herself for it.
“Where’s it going to be?” she asked.
“Europe,” he replied, getting into the elevator with her.
“Europe?” she stammered.
“In Nice, France, actually.”
Her eyes almost widened. She had never been to Europe. She was going to be in Europe when she broke up with him. Good god, it was a dream come true, another dream come true. She couldn’t believe her fortune. There was a reason she had met Benjamin Eriksson after all.
“You okay there?” he asked as they walked down the corridor.
“Yeah, it’s just—I don’t know about my schedule,” she said lamely.
“Well, I suggest you tell your agency ahead of time. December fifth through the tenth. We’ll be back on the morning of the eleventh.”
She nodded absentmindedly, her thoughts filled with excitement. What was she going to wear? What was Nice like? Then she realized she was going to meet up with his family. Damn it, she was going to meet up with everyone who had known him since he was in diapers.
“Earth to Sierra,” he said aloud as she robotically opened the door to her apartment.
“Huh? Uh, yeah.”
“Did you hear what I just said?”
“Agency. December fifth through tenth,” she stammered.
“Jesus, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re more excited than I am for my own family reunion.”
She bit her lower lip, placing her bag on the kitchen counter. Ben grabbed himself a glass and filled it with tap water. He stopped drinking his water halfway.
“Jesus, don’t tell me this is your first trip outside of America. Is that why you’re so excited?”
She didn’t say anything at first, then he started laughing. “I’ve been to Toronto!” she said defensively.
“Of course you’ve been to Toronto. You’re just a river away,” Ben told her still laughing. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met that’s never been outside of North America!”
She stood there embarrassed. “My family didn’t have the luxury of that,” she told him flatly.
Ben stopped laughing, but she could see his eyes twinkling with laughter. “Sorry, it’s just that it’s amusing to finally meet someone who hasn’t even been to Hawaii.”
“It’s the most expensive state in the country,” she told him, not looking at him. Her ears were burning. He had found a way to humiliate her all through travel experience.
“I’m not laughing anymore,” he said forcefully. There was still that smile that tried to show itself to her, and she hated it.
“I don’t get it. You’re so smart and your folks must be working hard; you could have gotten a scholarship, and yet you stayed in that small town of yours,” he added, trying to inject some seriousness into the atmosphere.
“I just had to,” she replied, feeling her privacy was being invaded.
“You’re hiding something,” he concluded straightaway.
“You’re so quick to judge,” she told him.
“You’re so easy to read,” Ben said.
She was silent, and she walked to the living room couch and flopped down on it. He followed suit. They were quiet for a while until Ben could no longer stand it.
“Just spill it. What was it about my question?” he began to pry. “Why did you stay? Someone with so much potential… did you stay for some guy?” He frowned, wondering why he asked that in the first place.
She still didn’t say anything.
“So it really is about a guy,” he resolved. “You’ve only had one boyfriend right? What happened?”
She shook her head. “Nothing happened.”
“Will you just spill it?” he snapped at her.
She looked hurt when he demanded it, but she took a deep breath. It took all of her willpower to say it. “I stayed because of him.”
“Him?” he felt a frisson of jealousy approach him.
“The ex-boyfriend I told you about.”
“The one and only? What’s his name?”
“James, James Irvine.”
He took a seat across her. “What happened to him? He cheated on you or what?”
She shook her head violently. “No, it isn’t anything like that. We were… we were happy. No cheating, not much drama.”
“Then why did you stay if the breakup was fine?”
“I made a promise before he died…”
Jesus, this was as sentimental as it got, Ben thought. So her ex-boyfriend dies and she promises to stay?
“It isn’t what you think,” she said, interrupting his trail of thought. “I could have left. Rushport meant the world to us. He was drafted into the military. I continued on with college, hoping we could work on our relationship while we were both far apart from each other. Then he emails me, saying he was coming home after serving a year. It was abrupt. We all thought he was doing well. It was an honorary dismissal, I found out after a while. He avoided me at first, but I wanted to see him. I found out,” she said this with difficulty, “that’s when I found out he was dying. Diagnosed of cancer while in Iraq. He didn’t want me to see him like that, all weak and helpless. We got back together just a bit before he died.”
A pity relationship, Ben thought. “What happened next?”
“We' promised each other before he left for Iraq that we’d stay in Rushport, serve in the government, just like our parents. We dreamed of leaving a mark on Rushport. Our childhood was good there, and so were our adolescent years. When he died, I told myself I’d serve the town myself. But here I am, fulfilling my wants.”
“I’d say this is a need,” he told her.
“Why do you say that?”
“You needed to get away from Rushport. You’d never grow there. Look at you now, you’ve only been here barely two months and yet you have billboards and magazine articles and ads. James Irvine wouldn’t have wanted you to stay there. I’m not saying there’s nothing for you there; there’s always something for you there. But being here is something of far more greater significance.”
She was quiet as she listened to him. It was as if she was listening to the most level-headed person she’d ever met in her entire life.
“Were you happy in Rushport?” he asked her.
She nodded earnestly.
“Did you grow emotionally and intellectually in Rushport after he was gone?”
She didn’t say anything.
“That’s right,” he continued. “You were stunted there. You didn’t make a promise to stay there forever. You were just attached to the memory of him there, that’s why you didn’t want to leave. But deep down inside, you knew you wanted to explore outside of Rochester.”