Bayside Wishes

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Bayside Wishes Page 7

by Stacy Claflin


  Nico got in and started the car.

  "You're the best." Freya grabbed the one closest to her and took a sip. A sweet mixture of coffee, chocolate, and mint filled her mouth. "Do I detect caramel?"

  "That you do." He picked up his and sipped it. "Hopefully you don't mind."

  Freya closed her eyes and let the tasty caffeine warm her. She'd have to do some serious exercise and calorie reduction after this. At least she'd barely eaten all weekend, and after eating the cake, she'd thrown it up in the bathroom. "It's perfect. Thank you."

  He pulled out into traffic, which was pretty light. "At least you picked a time where we wouldn't have to fight traffic."

  "You think Enchantment Bay has traffic?" she teased. "I thought you were a born and raised New Yorker."

  Nico laughed. "You have me there, but have you seen rush hour traffic around here lately? It's gotten worse in the short time I've been here."

  "No comment."

  "What are you saying? That I'm getting weak?"

  She chuckled. "You said it, not me."

  They joked and teased each other in between sips of caffeine the rest of the way to the airport. Freya loved that she could just relax and be herself around him. Even after having been on a date, he remained a perfect gentleman. He hadn't put any moves on her or gazed at her like she was a piece of meat. In fact, if he'd checked her out below her shoulders, she hadn't noticed.

  They arrived at the airport all too soon. Freya didn't want to leave.

  "Do you want me to go in with you?" he asked.

  Yes. "No, I just have the one suitcase and you can't go to the terminal with me."

  He pulled up to the load and unload zone. "I feel bad just dropping you off, though."

  Freya's heart warmed. "I'm used to airports. It's no big deal. But feel free to call me later—if you have time. I don't have anything going on today."

  He flashed his iceberg-melting smile. "I'd like that. Have a safe trip. At least let me get the luggage out of the car for you."

  They got out, and he set it on the ground next to her. "You really should fix that wheel."

  "Tell me about it. It broke on the way here, and it's been annoying me ever since."

  Nico wrapped her in his warm embrace. "I'm really glad we met. I hope…" He paused, as though looking for the right word. "We can spend some more time together."

  "We will. Call me." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, grabbed her suitcase, and hurried inside before she talked herself into staying. Between him and Shale, it would be all too easy to give in and not return home.

  She made her way to the terminal, barely paying attention to anything. She could still feel Nico's strong arms around her and the scent of his candle lingered in her memory.

  What she wouldn't give to be able to stay longer and get to know him better. But she had modeling gigs lined up for the next month—big ones that she couldn't turn away.

  Freya sat and pulled out her phone. She searched for modeling jobs near Enchantment Bay. The only ones available were things she had no interest in, like orthopedic footwear. Not when she had designer labels vying for her time.

  She expanded her search, checking out Portland like Shale had suggested. The options were a little better there, but still a major step down. There was always the option of LA—it would be a quicker flight than the Big Apple, but she'd have to break into a new market. Back home, she was at least known. Wanted.

  Maybe she should just wait and see how things progressed with Nico before she looked into this. If things continued going well, then she could look into getting some referrals for California.

  She turned to her reading app and picked one of the books she was in the middle of. She got lost in the story and didn't know how much time had passed when her phone rang.

  Her heart skipped a beat, hoping it was Nico already calling. It was Olivia. She'd forgotten about telling her to call. Freya answered and gave her friend some ideas for moving from newspaper journalism to fashion. By the time she ended the call, it was almost time to board.

  Freya rose and stretched. She had a lot more sitting in her future. The plane ride. The cab to the apartment. Her legs ached just thinking about it. She wished she could will herself to her gym. It would feel good to do some cardio and lift weights. But that was hours away.

  A flight attendant called to board the plane. Freya double-checked that she had gotten first class again. She had. Maybe she could actually relax during the flight. Sleep, if she was lucky.

  She lined up and tried to decide if she would rather sleep on the flight or drink lots of coffee. She yawned as the person in the front of the line complained about something, holding up everyone else.

  "Hey, baby," came a masculine voice behind her.

  Freya held back an eye roll and turned around. Some guy with slicked back hair and a polo shirt was giving her a once-over, his gaze lingering on her chest. It didn't seem to matter what she wore. Today, she had on a sweater and a leather jacket.

  She ignored him and turned back around.

  "Too good to talk to me?" he asked.

  "I'm kinda busy." She didn't bother turning around.

  "Doing what? Listening to that crazy old bag whining about her oversized purse not counting as a carry-on?"

  "Exactly." Freya kept her attention forward.

  "So, is Oregon home or a layover?"

  She didn't answer. Like it was any of his business. She'd learned long ago to be careful with handing out personal information. Too many stalker types out there.

  "A mystery woman."

  Freya whipped around. "Can't you take a clue? I don't feel like talking."

  He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. "Beats standing around, doing nothing."

  She shook her head and turned back around. With any luck, his seat would be far, far away from hers.

  "I'm on spring break," he said. "All my friends are partying it up, but my parents insisted I come home. Since they're paying for everything, what other choice did I have? So, I went skiing with the fam. Awesome."

  Freya held in a groan. It was too bad she didn't have any sleeping pills on her. It would be nice to block everyone out and just sleep.

  Ten

  Freya threw herself onto her bed, starving and exhausted. The shoot had gone hours longer than expected and her agent hadn't allowed her anything to eat. The next few days would be filled with summer fashion, and Freya had to be as skinny as possible.

  She longed for the fall and winter fashions to return so she could eat a little more normally. But spring had just begun, so that would be a while. Her stomach grumbled.

  Maybe just a banana. That had fiber, right? But sugar. She wasn't even supposed to eat natural sugar. Her doctor said sugars from fruit were fine, but the nutritionist hired by her agent had said no fruit.

  Tears filled her eyes. She didn't want another lettuce wrap. No more plain carrot sticks. She just wanted to eat something other than veggies and plain water.

  Her phone rang across the room. Freya groaned, too tired to get up and check. It might be Nico, but she didn't have the energy to speak with him. Besides, he'd hear the exhaustion in her voice and worry. They'd already been down that road, and she'd promised him she'd take care of herself. She was—kind of. She was doing everything her agent told her to do.

  She closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep.

  The phone woke her sometime later. Her light was still on, so she had no way of knowing how much time had passed. Plus, it was staying lighter later these days.

  Freya forced herself up and checked the call. She'd missed it, but it appeared both that call and the text earlier had been from Nico. Her heart warmed, thinking about him. Their talks and texts had been the highlight of every day for the last two months. Some days, it was what had gotten her through a tough shoot—and that was most days recently.

  Her stomach grumbled. She needed to eat before speaking with him. At least vegetables would be something, even if
she was still a little hungry afterward. At least she'd stop shaking. If that didn't work, she could always eat and then get rid of it as soon as she felt better. It wasn't ideal, but it would be better than this.

  Jules sat at the table, snacking on celery. She held up a magazine. "Look how skinny Shelby is here. It's so not fair."

  "It's been enhanced." Freya sat and took a celery slice.

  "No, look. That mole above her waist. They would have airbrushed that out."

  Freya took the magazine and scrutinized it. "You're right. How does she do it?"

  "Lucky, I guess. I saw her eating popcorn the other day."

  "Maybe she binges and purges." Freya didn't want to admit just how good that sounded right then. To be able to eat anything she wanted rather than constantly limiting herself.

  "My bet is on diet pills."

  "We're not allowed to use those."

  Jules rolled her eyes. "Doesn't mean anything."

  Freya shrugged and took another celery stick. "You know, these have no nutritional value."

  "Yeah, but after chewing, they also have no calories."

  "I can't take this anymore." Freya glanced around the kitchen. They had nothing good. "I'm going to get something real to eat. An actual meal."

  Jules' eyes widened. "Don't."

  "One fajita won't kill me. No cheese, and I won't eat any rice or beans."

  "Think of the carbs on the wrap."

  "I'm sure they have low carb ones."

  "Don't do it."

  "I swear I'm going to pass out. I need protein."

  Jules rose. "Let's add some lemon slices to your water. That'll make you feel like you're getting more, and also the lemon will help you to burn calories faster."

  "Where'd you hear that?"

  "I read it from a fitness blog." Jules opened the fridge. "You're modeling those crop tops tomorrow, right?"

  Freya put her head on the table. "Yes."

  "You can't afford fajitas tonight. Let's go crazy on Friday night. I'll make some low-carb, no sugar fajitas. Sound good? Then we'll spend all day Saturday exercising. The gym has cardio classes the whole day long."

  "Okay." Freya released a long, slow breath.

  Jules set a large glass of iced lemon water in front of her. "Drink up. The water will make you feel full."

  Freya drank the water and then grabbed another celery stick. She thought back to her trip back home a couple months earlier. What little of Mom's cooking she'd eaten had been so good.

  Her phone rang back in her room. "I need to get that." She got up and headed to her room, but she felt dizzy, so she sat on the couch. "I'll just call them back after I rest my eyes."

  "Hey, wake up," Jules said. "Freya."

  "Let me rest."

  "Isn't your shoot at ten?"

  "Tomorrow."

  "No, it's in two hours."

  Freya sat up. "What?"

  "I can't believe you slept on the couch all night."

  She jumped up and glared at Jules. "I can't believe you let me!"

  "You'll make it in time."

  Freya jumped up and ran to her room. Her stomach growled as she checked her phone. Missed calls from both Nico and Shale. More from Shale.

  "Better not be drinking again," she grumbled. It was too early to call either of them back given how early it was on the west coast. She grabbed some clothes and hurried for the shower. It was going to be a long day, and Jules was right about the crop tops. She needed to drink lemon water and skip breakfast. She could eat something at lunchtime, even if it was just some carrot sticks.

  Before long, she was paying her cab fare and was headed in for the shoot. Her stomach still rumbled. "Being skinny feels better than food tastes," she reminded herself.

  Not that she believed that anymore.

  Her friends back home all looked great, and they weren't sticks. Dakota was gorgeous, and yet Freya's agent would have called her heavy. It was a joke. Freya hadn't had her cycle in, what? A year, year and a half?

  None of this was healthy, and if any of her family knew about any of this, they would freak out, and for good reason. But it wouldn't last much longer. She was already getting "old" by industry standards. Even if no one spoke about it out loud or posted ages in most listings, it was obvious. Fewer models were older than she was anymore, and a growing number were younger.

  She went inside and got ready for the shoot. Everything was a blur of people, clothes, and makeup. Directions were given from all sides. Freya's breathing was short. She tried to get a deep breath, but it was out of reach. Her heart raced. She put her finger to her neck and counted. Her pulse was one hundred and thirty-two.

  Water. She just needed some water.

  "Where are you going?" The stage manager snapped.

  "To get a glass of water." Freya's mouth was parched.

  Elle glared at her. "Oh, no you don't. Why are you wearing that top? You're supposed to have the purple one. Purple is the in color this season." She whipped her head around. "Where's Andy?"

  "I'll go change into purple." Then she would get some water.

  "Make sure you put on the right one. Not lavender, and certainly not the eggplant one."

  "Got it." Freya went back to the dressing room. Everything was a blur. Her stomach growled. She groaned and went to find the right colored crop top.

  When she went out into the hall, the stage manager's eyes grew twice in size. "Were you wearing those pants before? Those are all wrong. Shiny leggings are so last season. Jeggings are back. But make sure you get black. And hurry!"

  Freya grumbled and went back into the now empty dressing room.

  The photographer was calling for her. Clearly, she was the only one holding things up. Water would have to wait. She found the black jeggings and put her shoes back on.

  She looked in the mirror. With all the clothes changing, her hair had gotten messed up. She fixed it, but not before the photographer shouted her name again.

  A sharp pain ran through Freya's head, starting at her temple and making its way through to the other side. She closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed her head.

  "What are you doing?" the stage manager shouted. "Get out there!"

  The pain intensified, but she opened her eyes. "I had to fix my hair."

  Elle glared at her. "If something's wrong with it, Sergio will fix it out there. Go!"

  Freya jumped and hurried out, nearly twisting her ankle on the high heels. This was going to be a really long day. All she could think about was sneaking away to the snack table and getting a glass of ice cold lemon water.

  All during the shoot, the photographer and Elle barked at her. Freya just couldn't seem to get anything right. Usually, she was on top of her game, but her body just wouldn't get with the program. Maybe this was why no one was older than her anymore. Bodies refused to put up with the ridiculous starvation after a certain point.

  The only thing she wanted was to go home and have some of her mom's cooking. She'd let her dad force platefuls on fatty deliciousness at her until she passed out. Just the thought of it gave her some added energy, allowing her to get through the rest of the morning shoot without incident.

  When it was finally time for a break, she ran for water. The ice had melted in the pitcher, but she didn't care. She poured it into a cup and gulped it down. Then she poured another.

  "Easy there," Ella said. "That'll go straight to your stomach, you know."

  Freya bit down a sarcastic comment. "I'm thirsty."

  "And this brand is known for not photoshopping its girls. Watch it."

  "I will." She finished the drink, but didn't refill it, even though she wanted nothing more.

  Elle ordered everyone into different colored tops. Freya followed everyone and found the lilac top she was supposed to wear this time around. Her stomach growled. Or was that someone else's? She couldn't tell anymore. The dots around the edge of her vision, those were definitely hers.

  Around her, people either grumbled or teased each other.
Usually, she was one to keep a good attitude and play around. She just didn't have it in her.

  "Hey, are you okay, Freya?" asked Alana, a girl Freya had done many shoots with over the years.

  "Just a little hungry."

  Alana arched a brow and pulled a ringlet behind her ear. "Are you sure?"

  Freya relaxed, appreciating her concern. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

  "You look pale." She moved closer and whispered in Freya's ear. "I have some apple slices in my purse if you need some."

  "Sugar?" Bella asked, turning to them. "Someone brought sugar?"

  Alana slapped her forehead and turned to Bella. "I said the Big Apple. Get your mind out of the sugar-gutter, girl."

  Bella pouted, turned around, and adjusted her shirt.

  "Nice save," Freya whispered.

  "Seriously, if you need one."

  Freya glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention. She nodded.

  Elle came into the room. "It's time, girls. Chop, chop."

  Alana glanced at Freya with a questioning look.

  "Later," Freya said.

  "Hang in there." Alana squeezed Freya's shoulder. "And if you need to sneak one, my locker is one-oh-two."

  "You're the best."

  Just knowing that some food awaited if she really needed it helped Freya get through the shoot. She powered through with more gusto and bigger smiles than she'd had all morning.

  Then just near the end, the dots at the edges of her vision crowded into the main part of everything, casting a white shadow at whatever she looked at.

  Someone called out her name.

  Freya turned to look, just as she realized the floor was coming at her.

  Everything turned black.

  Eleven

  A throbbing pain on Freya's forehead woke her. She reached for it and found a knot the size of a goose egg.

  "What's going on?" she mumbled.

  "She's awake!" That sounded like Alana.

  Freya opened her eyes. She was lying on the couch in the dressing room. Several of the other girls were gathered around, staring at her. A lady in a white lab coat was rifling through a black bag.

 

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