Raw Deal (Beauty for Ashes: Book One)

by Dayo Benson

  “Okay.” I led the way to the elevator. “I’m hungry. Are you?”

  “Do you still eat like a man?” Monica giggled. “I don’t know where you get that appetite from.”

  We got to my room, and Monica tossed her purse on the bed. “How’s college?”

  “So far, so good. How about you?”

  “It’s already really hard. I see myself becoming a social recluse, but I really want to be a doctor. I just hope I have what it takes.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  Monica touched my hair. “She did a great job, didn’t she?”

  “Yes. I so owe you.”

  “What was the whole emergency about?”

  “I’ll tell you over dinner. Where shall we go? There’s a restaurant downstairs.”

  “There’s an Indian place down the road.”

  “Okay, shall we go there?”

  “Yes. There’s this Indian girl in the room next to me at college, and she’s got me totally hooked on Onion Bhajis’s and Chicken Jalfrezi with Pilau Rice.”

  “Okay, but you’ll have to order for me because I’ve never done Indian before.”

  ***

  Indian food was hot. I knew it would be, but I wasn’t quite prepared for just how hot it was. My mouth was on fire. I watched Monica eat her rice and curry in quick easy mouthfuls. “How can you just eat it like that?” I asked, downing half my glass of water. “I like spicy food too, Monica, but this is so hot.”

  “It’s not that hot. The more you drink, the hotter it’ll feel.”

  “My mouth will explode if I don’t drink.”

  “Let it cool down a bit. Maybe it won’t be so bad then.” Monica took a tiny sip of her sparkling water. I didn’t know how she could drink the stuff. It tasted like carbon dioxide. “So, how’s the love life? Met anyone at college?” She asked me.

  “Not really. There’s a guy that lives a few doors from me, and he cooks me stir fry on Friday nights. That’s about it. I got back with Carl a few weeks ago.”

  “Carl Layton?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s nice to me,” I grinned. “And he was my first.”

  Monica’s eyes widened. “That is so gross. When did that happen?”

  I giggled. “In high school.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “How’s your love life?”

  “Non-existent.”

  “But you’re in New York.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m sure there must be some hot Christian guys around.”

  Monica smiled. “Actually, there’s a guy in the campus Bible Study. But he’s the study leader, and he’s super Godly. He’s not gonna look at me.”

  “Are you kidding? I bet you’re the hottest girl there.”

  Monica snorted. “I’m not.” She gathered up the remnants of rice and curry onto her fork and popped it into her mouth with relish. She set her fork down and grinned. “Mmm. That was beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said dryly. I’d barely managed four spoons of mine. “Are you still in touch with Hayden?”

  Monica placed her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands. “No.”

  “What about Liam? Is he in New York, too?”

  “No. He went to Long Beach.”

  “Do you still talk?”

  “No. We stopped speaking after he found out I dated Hayden. I think Hayden said something to him one time, and after that, he just went cold on me.”

  I couldn’t say I blamed him. “You don’t know what you’ve got till you lose it.”

  “I know. I totally took him for granted.” Monica pursed her lips. “But I’m a Christian now, and I can’t go back to all that anyway.”

  “I still think about Jace sometimes, but not in that way.” It was in that way sometimes, but I couldn’t admit that to anybody but myself. “I think about how crazy I was about him, and I just laugh. I’m glad that chapter is closed.”

  “I haven’t even seen much of Jace since we got here. We go to different churches.”

  “How’s Michelle? Is she still engaged to Matt?”

  “Yes. They’re serious. I think they’re going to get married sooner rather than later.”

  “Really?”

  Monica nodded. “He’s so sweet to her. They actually make a great couple.”

  I grimaced. “Why can’t I meet someone who’ll be sweet to me? I don’t think anyone has ever wanted to marry me.”

  Monica looked incredulous. “We’re eighteen, Lexi. Matt and Michelle are the exception, not the rule.” She looked at my food. “You’re not going to eat that are you?”

  “No, I’ll get takeout on our way back.”

  ***

  Monica and I didn’t sleep until really late. I told her about my experience working with Roz Petroz and how hard it had been. She told me about her fears about med school. We talked about high school and what our classmates were up to now. Monica had all the gossip. As for me, I wasn’t in contact with anyone.

  It was great to catch up, but we both had places to be on Wednesday morning. Monica had a class at nine, and I had a ‘go see’ with Teen magazine at eight. At seven o clock, I left her praying on the hotel room floor and jumped into a taxi.

  The ‘go see’ was over in about fifteen minutes. I was met by the anti-bullying campaign director and the editor’s assistant. They interviewed me about my modeling experience, my thoughts on bullying, and why I wanted to do the campaign. Then they looked at my portfolio. They had three more models to see, and they were going to contact me by eleven if I was successful.

  Teen magazine was located in a huge business park in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t worth going back to my hotel in case they called me back, so I wandered around the business park until I came to a small sandwich shop. I bought a cinnamon bagel, a coffee, and a gossip magazine, and sat down at one of the tables.

  I really wanted to be a model. I really wanted to do editorial work and walk for the big designers. I’d never doubted my ability before, but now I was starting to question myself. Did I have what it takes? Could I really do it? Or was it just a hobby that I had taken too seriously and should never have ventured into?

  Something inside me wanted this so bad. But was that enough? Could I handle the pressure that came with the big fashion houses? I’d done big designers before, during my time in Europe, but it had mainly been runway. Up until a few months ago, I hadn’t really been that serious about making it. Modeling paid me pocket money and gave me free clothes, but it hadn’t meant as much then as it was beginning to mean to me now.

  My cell phone rang at ten fifteen. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Lexi?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s Rita at Teen magazine. Just to let you know you’ve been successful for the anti-bullying campaign. Can you get back for twelve?”

  “Sure.” I felt slightly elated as I hung up. I supposed my looking so far ahead was probably not so good at this point in time. I should just take each job as it comes and learn as much as I can from each one. Worrying about how I was going to get to the top was doing me no good. You got to the top by working. I had to focus on just working.

  I checked out the cold pasta bowls in the fridge by the counter. I’d better line my stomach before I went. Who knew how long the shoot would take? I picked the tuna pasta salad and paid the girl at the counter, who by now obviously thought I was weird. I’d been sitting in the shop staring into space and occasionally turning a page in my magazine for two hours.

  I left at eleven-thirty and walked back to Teen magazine. The reception was busy with about a dozen other people waiting. Rita, the editor’s assistant, and Gina, the director of the campaign appeared at twelve and took me and the other people through to a studio.

  Rita welcomed us, and then left us with Gina, who explained what she wanted from us. I was the bullying victim, and another girl was the bully. Everyone else was society.
They would be in the background going about their own business and turning a blind eye to my pain.

  I grinned. I had gotten the central role. I went to get my makeup done and I read my relaxation pocket book. Not that I was nervous or anything, I just really wanted to deliver. I didn’t ever want another bad photoshoot like I’d had two days ago. I shut the book when the stylist started on my hair and tried to get myself into character. I was a bullying victim. I felt lonely, unwanted, and afraid. I had nowhere to turn.

  I may never have been bullied, but pain was pain. It didn’t matter what caused it. So, in that sense, I could relate to bullying victims on some level.

  The shoot took an hour. I think we gave Gina exactly what she wanted, because she looked pretty pleased.

  As I was leaving, Rita was in the reception seeing off a gray-haired man in torn jeans and a V-neck sweater that revealed a forest of curly chest hair. Ugh!

  “Thank you, Alessandro,” Rita said allowing the man to kiss her cheek. “I hope the show in LA goes well. It’s been such a pleasure meeting you.”

  I stopped in my tracks. That was Alessandro Felice, Italian designer extraordinaire! I walked behind him as he exited the building. A black car was waiting at the curb.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Felice,” I said before he got into the car.

  He turned.

  I smiled sheepishly. What was I doing? “Hi. I’m a model, and I really love your clothes. I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re doing a show in LA? I live in LA, and I was just wondering if you needed a model?”

  “Ah, too late, all the models are booked,” Alessandro said with a heavy accent.

  “Can I give you my details just in case?”

  “The show is next week, sweetheart. All the models are booked.”

  I was not above begging. “Can I just show you my portfolio?”

  “No, sweetheart, I have to go.” He got into the passenger seat of the car.

  I had tried, and there was no harm in trying. I called my cab.

  ***

  “Guess who I saw today?” I asked Monica when she got back to the hotel that evening. “Alessandro Felice.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really? Was he at Teen?”

  “Yes. He’s got a fashion show in LA next week. I asked if he needed a model. He didn’t.” I stared at my portfolio in defeat. What the man didn’t know was that I would walk his runway for free. I knew he usually used only the very best. His headlining model was usually someone like Bette Wiens.

  Monica was tired. I could tell because she was pretty quiet all evening. I did most of the talking, which was definitely role reversal. We had dinner at the hotel restaurant.

  My flight was at six forty-five the next morning, so I was looking forward to an early night. I needed it after not sleeping much the night before. I could tell that Monica needed it too. I climbed into bed at eight, unable to keep my eyes open any longer. Monica was studying.

  I fell asleep and woke up around ten. “When are you going to sleep?”

  Monica just grunted. She woke me up at four. “Go and get a shower. I’ve ordered breakfast. It should be here by the time you get back.”

  She was already dressed. “Did you sleep at all?”

  “Yeah.”

  The bed was so warm and cozy, and I really didn’t want to get up. “Wake me up again in half an hour.”

  “Will you have long enough to get ready?”

  “Yeah. I don’t preen before the mirror like you.” I rolled over and snuggled into the pillow.

  She dragged me out of bed half an hour later, and I shuffled to the bathroom. Why had Sheena booked me on such an early flight?

  I ate my breakfast bagel while I dressed up, and then Monica drove me to the airport. She waited with me for almost an hour. I gave her a tight hug before she left. “Thanks for staying at the hotel with me, Monica.”

  “Aww, Lexi. I miss you lots, ya know,” Monica said. “Take it easy, okay? Keep in touch.”

  I waited for close to an hour after Monica left before they let us board the plane. Three days in New York, and it had been solid work. I hadn’t even been able to go out and see the sights.

  ***

  I was back to LA and back to planet Earth. I bought a packet of white chocolate chip cookies on my way back to college, and I stayed in my tiny dorm room all Thursday, snacking on cookies in between naps. I only emerged on Friday morning because I was desperately hungry. Monica was right. I did have a man’s appetite. It was a good thing I was naturally skinny, because if I wasn’t, my eating habits would probably cost me my modeling career.

  Dan came into the kitchen while I was sneaking someone else’s milk into my cereal. I knew I looked guilty.

  He gave a low whistle. “You look like a million dollars.”

  “Well, it actually only cost three hundred.”

  “It suits you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Dan poured some of my cereal into a bowl. “Wait a minute. It did not cost you three hundred dollars to dye your hair.”

  “I know. Crazy. I was desperate though.”

  Dan’s handsome face screwed up into an incredulous frown. “And you gave me a hard time for driving a nice car.”

  “This is different. It’s for my career. Your car is just to show off on campus.” I loved giving Dan a hard time.

  “Me driving a banger would be just as pretentious as some poor guy driving a Beemer.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I’m loaded, Lexi. Deal with it.”

  I had to laugh. I went back to my room with my cereal. Friday was my day off, so I went shopping at noon—food shopping. I needed to stock up. I bought things that I could stash in my room rather than in the kitchen where they would become communal supplies.

  That evening I got a text from Carl. I’d missed a few of his calls yesterday and today: ‘How was New York? Hope you got back okay.’

  I called him back, but it rang out.

  On Saturday, I went home to see my mom. I told her about the photoshoot, still leaving out the fact that it was lingerie. She kinda had the impression it was nightgowns. I’d probably given her that impression last week when I told her.

  Our relationship was better now that I wasn’t living at home. I couldn’t feel as neglected as I used to because I didn’t know what time she got home from work anymore. And if we only saw each other once a week, rather than every day, it was easy to forget that her work was the most important thing in her life. Absence truly did make the heart grow fonder.

  Chapter 44

  “Hey, Lexi, what are you doing on Wednesday night?” Dan asked as I stepped out of the elevator on Monday evening. I’d had to go to the library after my afternoon Principles of Oral Communication class to print off all the handouts I’d missed last week. My new San Diego friend, Emily Whittle, had come with me and let me copy her notes, too.

  Dan was standing by my door looking as hot as ever. I took out my keys. “Why?”

  “I need a huge favor. I know it’s late notice, but I really need you to say yes.” He followed me into my room.

  “Go on, I’m listening.” I felt a slight flutter inside, but I dismissed it. I didn’t and I would never have a crush on Dan. It just wasn’t going to happen.

  “I need a date for an event.”

  I rolled my eyes and flung my jacket on the bed. “I have a boyfriend,” I reminded him.

  “Alessandro Felice is showcasing for fashion week next Monday, but he’s holding a preview night on Wednesday for some selected people who might want first pick of some of his stuff. My parents are in Europe and can’t go, so I’m representing.”

  Whoa! “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I need a date.”

  “Okay, I’ll be your date, but it’s not a date. Right?”

  “Don’t sound so happy now, Lexi.”

  “You knew I’d say yes, didn’t you? What’s the dress code?”

  “There is none. I’m just wearing a suit. I imagine the women will all
be in dresses, probably pretty elegant. No pressure though.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I can handle it.”

  “I know. That’s why I asked you. Thanks for accepting.”

  I had to Google Dan. I jumped onto my laptop as soon as he left my room. Who was he? If his parents were on Alessandro Felice’s guest list, they had to be of some status.

  It turned out that Dan Black was heir to the Diamond Parlor! His father started the business forty years ago and now had branches in LA, New York, London, and Paris.

  I went to the kitchen. Dan was in there setting up a coffee machine. “My ex-boyfriend bought me diamond earrings from your shop.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. He was an heir like you, too. His family owns the Glacier hotels.”

  “I know Jamie Price. Did you date her brother? I didn’t know she had a brother.”

  “I dated her cousin.” I watched Dan fiddle with the machine. I couldn’t believe I was falling into the hands of another heir to billions. How many heirs lived in LA, and how come they kept getting thrown into my path?

  “Do you want to try some coffee?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  He pushed a few buttons. “So how’d you find out?”

  “Google.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask me? Why’d you have to stalk me on the Internet?”

  “It’s not stalking. It’s research.”

  ***

  “Well, don’t you look chic,” Dan said on Wednesday night as we took the elevator to the parking lot level.

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I’m not surprised. I’m impressed.”

  That was why I could never date him. I’d have to dress up all the time, and I certainly couldn’t be bothered with that. I needed a guy who was still impressed when I had on jeans and no makeup. Carl was that kind of guy.

  The preview show was taking place in Skye Bar, West Hollywood. I couldn’t believe the number of photographers outside the bar when we rolled up. A valet approached, and Dan handed his keys over.

  The cameras flashed, and Dan gave a small wave as he walked me into the bar. I could just imagine the society pages tomorrow: Dan Black arrives with an unidentified female.