Sammy in Italy (Single Wide Female Travels #2)

by Lillianna Blake

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry. I overstepped. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just didn’t want you to feel you needed to hide it if it were true.” Her cheeks flushed. “I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t upset you.”

  “No, you just startled me.” I laughed. “I haven’t even thought about pregnancy, and the idea that I might be kind of shocked me. I can assure you, pregnancy is not the problem.”

  “Then what is?” She took my hand. “I can be a good listener.”

  “I’m sure you can be, but people are beginning to arrive. We should get the signing started.”

  “Okay, but if you need to talk, I’m here, Samantha. I hope that you can think of me as your friend.”

  “Thank you, Isabella.”

  As the guests filed in and began to take their seats, I tried to push down the butterflies in my stomach. It occurred to me that I was completely disconnected from my body. I spent so much time learning to be in tune with it, and somehow all of that knowledge had disappeared. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My fingers fluttered against the sides of my pants.

  I closed my eyes and willed myself to find my center. It wasn’t too long ago that I didn’t even have to look for it. Yet in front of this group of people my thoughts spun so fast that I couldn’t even think of a greeting.

  Isabella stepped up beside me.

  “Welcome, everyone. Thank you for understanding our sudden change of venue. It is such a wonderful opportunity for us to have Samantha Bradford here. I know that she’s looking forward to sharing her insights with all of us. So I’ll just turn things over to her. Samantha.” She smiled at me.

  The audience applauded.

  I smiled hard, in an attempt not to lose the muffin I’d eaten while ago. My heart jumped, then slammed hard against my chest. All eyes were on me. My lips parted and words began to form. I had no idea what I was saying until I heard it for myself.

  “Thank you all for being here. I appreciate your support and hope that you can find a little inspiration from this reading.” I turned to the pre-selected page from my book Becoming Zara and began to read. As the words flowed, I actually listened to them. I heard my own voice break through the text before me. The passion, the determination, and the inspiration filled more than just my audience—it filled me as well.

  Yes, there was the Sammy that Max had been referring to. There was the Sammy that I’d been only a few days before.

  When I closed the book and looked out at the audience, I saw a sea of faces. Each one was a little different than the others. It touched me to the core to think that despite their different walks of life, despite being on entirely different paths, they were all gathered together before me because of the book—because they’d found some truth in it, some inspiration in it. Who was I to doubt them?

  As soon as Isabella announced the question and answer portion of the event, hands flew up into the air.

  Chapter 14

  I selected the first woman that I noticed with her hand raised.

  “Yes, what is your question?”

  She stood up and clutched her purse nervously. “Hello. It’s so nice to see you in person. I hope you don’t take offense at this question, but I really need to know.”

  “Please feel free to ask me anything that’s on your mind.” I smiled.

  “In your book, you make it sound so easy. Zara is so good at everything. Even if she struggles at first she accomplishes all that she sets out to do. Do you think that’s very realistic?” She glanced around at the other people in the audience. A few of the other women were nodding their heads as she spoke.

  “I understand exactly what you mean. I think that if you were able to meet Zara, you’d see that she’s pretty much just like you and me. We have our good days, and we have our bad days. The important thing is that on our bad days, we focus on our next good day. We remind ourselves that it’s okay to have ups and downs—that it’s just part of how we change and grow.”

  “That’s an interesting point.” The woman smiled. “Thank you.” She sat back down in her chair.

  I called on the next person I saw with her hand up.

  “Yes, do you have a question?”

  “I heard a rumor that this will be an ongoing series. Is that true? Are you afraid that you’ll run out of material?” She looked me in the eye.

  I took a breath and laughed a little. “I doubt that I’ll ever run out of material. Yes, Becoming Zara is the lead-in to my new series called the B.I.G. Girls Club. It’s a bit early to know for sure how long it will be, but I write a lot from my own experiences in life. As long as I’m still experiencing, I can assure you that I’ll have material.”

  “Great. I’m looking forward to reading everything I can get my hands on.” She sat back down in her chair.

  I pointed to a young man who had his hand raised.

  “Hi, Samantha. I follow your blog.”

  “Oh, wonderful. Thank you.”

  “Yes, it’s great. But I was wondering if you feel that the blog is too personal? I find it difficult to be that open and honest with people in my life. I want to be, but that fear of being mocked is always there. How do you deal with that?”

  His voice was gentle, but his question hit me hard. It reflected my emotions.

  “To be honest with you, I don’t always handle it well. I handle it better than I used to. But it is easy to slip into old habits. The thing about daring to trust life is that there are risks. I might make a mistake. I might just fall on my face. But at least I will have made the attempt. A fall is usually just an opportunity to get back up. A failure is a chance to learn and grow—to be more successful the next time. If we take our disappointments in stride, we’ll never miss out on new opportunities.”

  “What an awesome perspective. I guess I’ll keep on trying.” He sat back down in his chair.

  After a few more questions, the session ended.

  I sat down at the table to sign books for each of the attendants. It occurred to me, as I scribbled my name and a short message on the front flap of each book, that I’d forgotten all about Max not being there once the book signing had started.

  When I was down to the last book, I looked up to find Alistair right in front of me.

  “You still want me to sign a book?” The pen hovered over the flap.

  “Yes, very much. I enjoyed your reading and the question and answer session. I saw the woman I’d hoped to meet when you were speaking to people who needed you.” He pushed the book closer to me. “Please sign it. I’m sure you will go on to write many other great works.”

  “Thank you.” I jotted my signature and a short note to him about the difference he’d made in the lives of women with his bold fashion. When I handed the book back to him, he caught my hand between the cover and his palm for a moment.

  “Are you going to bring that person on to the runway for me, Samantha?”

  “Yes, sir.” I smiled at him.

  As he walked away, my heart fluttered. Could I really? It was one thing to speak to a group of people who already admired my work; it was quite another to pretend to be a model in front of people who were accustomed to actual models.

  I spent a little time mingling with fans under Isabella’s watchful eye. When the room finally cleared, she walked over to me.

  “That was such a success. Would you be willing to do one more book signing the day after tomorrow?”

  “Of course, anything you need. Do you think it went well?” I looked around at the last few people walking out of the room.

  “Oh, absolutely. I think it’s so refreshing that not only is your book amazing, you really are able to deliver that same inspiration in person.” She shook her head. “I only wish I could bottle you.”

  “That might be difficult.” I laughed. “But thank you. It’s funny, before I started the session I was a mess, but once it started everything changed.”

  “It’s easy to get caught up in the drama of day-to-day life. Let it roll off your back. We have to get you to the dr
essing room!” She tugged me down a short hallway that led to another section of the building.

  If I thought the book signing was packed, the amount of people present in the next room was overwhelming. Wall-to-wall well-dressed people were gathered there.

  “Oh, no! No, I don’t think so.” I started to back away.

  Isabella stuck her hand firmly against my lower back and guided me forward. “You’ll be fine. Remember? Once you get up there, you’ll be great!”

  Chapter 15

  Isabella’s words echoed through my mind, but my eyes blurred at the sight of the runway. She rushed me behind a curtain to a makeshift dressing room. In the small space there were six models. Each one was more slender and more perfect than the last. Was I really supposed to walk with these women? My dress might as well have been an elephant costume compared to what these women were wearing.

  In the flurry of the preparations none seemed very friendly.

  “Here’s your dress.” Isabella pointed to where it hung beside a tall mirror. “Daniella said the alterations will be perfect.”

  I recalled Daniella’s lament about wardrobe malfunctions. How was I going to face the possibility that I might end up naked on the runway?

  My eyes blurred for a different reason. Tears. Where was Max? I needed him to be there with me. I needed his easy smile and his perpetually supportive advice. I grasped my phone, prepared to call him, but before I could, Sue stepped up beside me.

  “Let’s go. We have to get you in your dress. You’re the third one up”

  “I’m what? Third? Why?” I could barely speak, as my breath was so short.

  “Sh, just put on your dress.” Sue waved her hand at me.

  I noticed her left hand was tucked away as usual. The memory of her stories about bullying was a slap to my senses. Here was a woman who had overcome her insecurity about a birth defect, and I was worried about chubby thighs. How was I being an example to her? If I didn’t think I could walk the runway, how could she believe that she should be able to display her unique hand proudly?

  “Okay—yes, I’ll put it on.” I grabbed the dress and attempted to pull it off the hanger. The feat was quite a struggle. I became so frustrated that I almost tore one of the straps.

  “Here, let me.” Sue reached up with her left hand and was able to wriggle the sleeves off of the hanger. “It was stuck.”

  “Good thing you were here to help me.” I shook my head. “Really, I’m not always this much of a mess.”

  “Oh, you’re not a mess, Samantha. It’s okay to be nervous. But there’s no time to waste, so get changed. And remember, try not to fall off the stage.” She laughed.

  I didn’t. She meant the warning as a joke, but that was my worst fear.

  I looked back at the gaggle of models. They didn’t hesitate to reveal their flawless bodies. Could I really change in front of them? I tugged a section of the curtain forward in an attempt to give myself a bit more privacy.

  In the middle of changing, I heard a shriek, followed by several other shrieks. The curtain whipped back. Only then did I realize that when I’d pulled the curtain, I’d also revealed a few of the models who were changing. My cheeks burned hot.

  “How did that happen?” The tallest model huffed. “Who is in charge here?”

  “Relax, Alia, it wasn’t that bad. I’m sure no one saw more than what we usually show off on the runway.” The woman beside her patted her back. “Try not to let it bother you.” She looked around Alia to me.

  I inched the skirt down over my thighs and looked away.

  “That’s easy for you to say, Priscilla. You’re gorgeous. Why would you care if anyone saw you? But you know how wide my back is. It’s horrible. I might as well be a man. The clothes hide that.” Alia sniffled.

  I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. I was only a few feet away. Despite the fact that these women had absolutely nothing to hide, some seemed to be just as anxious at the thought of being exposed. I finished adjusting my dress and then walked over to the hair and make-up area. As a few of the models settled in beside me, I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead on the mirror. What must they think of me?

  “You must be the special model Alistair mentioned. Samantha, is it?” Alia looked over at me as I nodded. “He’s never done this before, you know.”

  “Maybe he shouldn’t have at all.” Priscilla shook her head. “You look terrified.”

  “I’ll be fine when it’s over.”

  “That’s what I tell myself every time.” Alia laughed. “Priscilla told me it would get easier each time, but so far that hasn’t turned out to be true.”

  “You have to learn how to relax, Alia. Once you stop caring what the audience thinks, you’ll own the runway.” She looked into the mirror at my reflection. “If they sense fear, they’ll eat you alive.”

  “Oh please, Priscilla, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” Alia rolled her eyes.

  One of the stylists ran her fingers through my hair. She spritzed it, fluffed it, then spritzed it again. Somehow those simple actions transformed my hair into a windswept look.

  “I don’t think I’m being dramatic at all. It’s the truth.” Priscilla dipped her head down as the stylist behind her wrapped her hair up in a tight bun.

  “But the audience is who we have to impress. How can we not want them to like us?” Alia sighed.

  “Trust me, you have to go out there with the intention that you will tell them what they will like. If you can do that, then you will dominate the runway.” She lifted her head back up and looked at me. “Do you think that you can do that, Samantha?”

  I stared at my windswept hair. The stylist spun me around and stroked my cheeks with blush. She accented my eyes with eyeliner and mascara.

  “Maybe.” I took a deep breath before the stylist set to work on my lips.

  Chapter 16

  By the time my make-up was finished, my heart was fluttering with fear. I gripped my phone again. Should I call him? Should I ask him to come—beg him to come? The lights went dim.

  Alia grabbed my hand. “It’s almost time.”

  “Don’t fall, don’t fall.” I whispered the command to myself as I took my position in the line of women that would walk the short runway. At least it wasn’t as long as a regular runway. I had less time to fall.

  When the woman in front of me began to walk, my heart dropped.

  Alia gave me a light push from behind. “It’s your turn. You have to go now or you’ll throw off the entire flow.”

  One foot in front of the other, Samantha, one foot in front of the other. Just do not fall! I kept my eyes trained on the audience. I heard the music, I saw the flash of the lights, but I did my best not to be swayed by it. When I reached the end of the runway, I mimicked the slight lunge and spin of the women who’d gone before me. At least I didn’t fall.

  I walked back toward the curtain. As I walked, I saw a look of horror in Alia’s eyes when she looked at me. The expression made my skin crawl. Before I could figure out why she was looking at me in such a way, the ground disappeared.

  In an attempt to make plenty of room for Alia, I’d walked dangerously close to the edge of the stage. Then my right foot walked right off it. I tumbled to the ground beside the runway—well, my body did. My head landed in the lap of a man who looked very frightened.

  “I’m so sorry.” I looked up at him as I lifted my head from his lap.

  Isabella rushed toward me. “Are you okay? Did you twist your ankle?”

  “I’m okay,” I whispered. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. If I did, the tears would start.

  “Let me help you up.”

  As I stood up, I saw the other models—professional as ever—continue down the runway without incident.

  Isabella led me back behind the curtain.

  “Is the dress okay?” I looked it over in a daze. “I didn’t tear it, did I?”

  “It’s fine. What matters is that you’re okay.
Are you?” She searched my eyes.

  “I think so—other than being mortified. I knew this was a terrible idea.”

  “Which is exactly why this happened.” Alistair stood just behind the curtain and stared at me. “That fear is what made you make a mistake.”

  “Or maybe it was because I’ve never walked this runway before. I was distracted by all the commotion, and I forgot that I needed to keep both feet on the runway. Isn’t that possible?” I looked at him helplessly. “I’m sorry about your show, but I’m just not cut out for this.”

  “I disagree. I expect you to be here tonight for the show. It was part of our agreement. Can I count on you to be there?” He met my eyes.

  Isabella grimaced as she looked over at me.

  If I didn’t show, it might cause her some serious trouble.

  “Alistair, do you really want me there? After what happened today?”

  “Yes, I do. I expect you to be there. A moment is just a moment, after all. What happens tonight may just be fabulous.” He smiled. “If you want it to be, that is.” He winked at me.

  When he walked away I thought about calling out to stop him. It would be best to let him know that I was not going to be there—to tell him while he still had time to replace me in the show. By the time I looked up, he was already out the door.

  Isabella rubbed her hand along my back. “It’s really not so bad, Samantha. Falls happen all the time. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last.”

  “It’s not just that, Isabella. I’m all about stepping outside of my comfort zone, but maybe I’ve stepped out too far this time. I’m in over my head, and the last thing I want to do is draw ridicule to Alistair.” I sighed and looked away. “Maybe this is all just too much.”

  “I find that hard to believe. I know I don’t know you that well, Samantha, but to me it feels like we share many traits. I can tell you that never once did I doubt that you’d be able to handle all this. Maybe it’s you that needs to have more faith in yourself?”

  “Maybe. I can’t believe Alistair still wants me in the show.”

  “Just do the best you can. Let this incident roll off your back. Things happen in life. If we don’t dwell on them, they can’t control us. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” She gave my hand a light shake. “You’ll do well.”