I cross the street quickly, while my head is lost in a thousand thoughts: I have just been invited to have dinner with the sexiest man in the united states!
As much as in my brain I think about canceling everything, the craziest part of me takes over and tells me to know that man better.
What if he finds out? After all we live under the same roof and it could happen that he decides to go down
in the servants' rooms and that he catches me cooking wrapped in the smell of onion or cooked meat, rather
than to pose in front of famous stylists.
On the other hand, it would be unlikely: why should he take a walk under the stairs?
I put a hand in my hair as I walk through the gate:
"Who are you escaping from?" - I jump when a familiar voice brings me to reality, but I calm down when I notice my friend and James behind him.
I give to the asshole a dirty look, as if he's looking at me right now, but his
attention is captured by the phone in his hands.
"Yes, your mother was chasing me." - I say ironically, so he laughs at my words, and in that exact moment I remember that I
really need to talk to that woman, which is harder than pretending to be a model in front of Edward.
"What have I done?" - without even doing it on purpose, the old woman appears behind my friend with shopping bags
in her right hand.
"I have to talk to you!" - I try to change the subject, placing a hand on her shoulder, but as soon as I try to appear more friendly to her, she raises her tone:
"Take your hand away, and don't tell me 'you', I'm not your mother!" - I immediately step back at her severe face.
"Fortunately." - I whisper to myself.
"What would you like to talk to me about?" - she adds soon after, acting like she didn't listen to what I said.
"I wanted to ask your permission to go out tonight." - I whisper close to her, but I am sure the two bodyguards next to me are listening, given
that James looks up from his cell phone
, and then turns his eyes away completely disinterested when he notices I give him a quick glance.
The old woman shrugs, with the usual bored expression:
"It's money that comes out of your salary." - she says,
and then overtakes me without saying another word.
I sigh, reassuring myself: I was afraid it would not be so simple.
I greet the boy next to me with a quick gesture of my hand, before he can ask me the reason of my request, while I completely avoid the other: I have very little time left to prepare and I have no idea what to wear.
The only dress suitable for this evening is the one I already wore the first day I met him:
if it was somebody else I wouldn't think twice before putting it on again, but he works
in a fashion company and I have to be careful to show myself as a man like him deserves... And expects.
I snort as I open my closet, but I surrender at the first sight of what I find inside.
I opt for a simple black dress, perhaps banal for what he thinks I am, but I have to admit
that is the most decent dress I've bought recently.
I hump it on the bed and then run to the bathroom to take a quick shower, which is an oxymoron, given that it takes me over two hours just to fix the water.
I soap my hair in frustration, thinking again about the mess I'm sticking into.
I have always known that I am impulsive and that I cannot control my feelings, but I've never told a lie in my life, except to my parents, but only to go out at night with a pretty guy rather
than with 'the usual friends'.
Among other things, I have never been able to socialize and my mother knew it well, so I don't know how she could believe it.
Most likely I won't escape reporters this time either, but the thing that worries me most is
not being able to lie to my mother, who will already be making a thousand ideas about what she read in that damned journal, which I don't even know how I found it!
In fact Gordon is known for founding one of the most famous fashion houses in West America, but
usually no one is interested in the founders, not even the stylists, as much as the garments they
advertise or the poses that the models make.
So I don't understand either the New York magazines interest in this family or the fact that my
mother read around such events.
Thinking about what lies I'll tell next, I try to find a solution for everything I will have to
face: how will I become the new image without signing a contract?
Or rather, how am I going to sign a contract with my fake name? And what if they ask me for my documents?
Gordon said he was going to fire the real model, which made me feel guilty at first, but now
I find it even pleasant. Which makes me feel even more guilty!
I feel almost proud of what I'm doing because for someone like Edward it would be worth it, but also because she is probably one of the usual rich women, proud of her appearance and with an arrogant attitude.
I exit the shower after few minutes, sliding before reaching the door that connects my bathroom to the bedroom,
but, after having only banged my head against the jamb, I get up and go to the dresser, to then take my
loved hair dryer.
As I find myself talking to my reflection again, I take a look at my body.
Damn it! I didn't realize my ass is so protruding, I look like Chloe Kardashian for real, even though
several times I thought of it as a joke.
I bite my lower lip, passing the curling iron several times around a section that prefers not to obey and remains straight.
"I'll set you on fire if you don't curl up, and I'll make you go like the cathedral of Notrê Dame!" - I threaten her, holding
the iron more than necessary, and then remove it not to risk burning my hair for real.
After I've done getting ready, I look in the mirror: I feel like I can substitute a clown at the circus
tonight, but I surrender after several attempts.
My hair returns wavy, even after a kilo of Intesa, the black eyline of my left eye gets
several times different output from that of the right eye, so I ended up choosing a simple fresh make up, without using eyeliner.
I mean, I look like Cinderella, but before the pumpkin turned into a carriage.
I find myself strangely 'ready', but above all given up on being able to improve this mess, half an hour earlier
than necessary, so I start walking around the bed, watching video tutorials on how to be
elegant.
Holy shit, I should have followed America's next supermodel when my mother advised me,
or Girlfriends Guide To Divorce : 'those women know how to be elegant .'- my babysitter used to say.
But I didn't listen to her or my mom, since until two years ago I preferred watching Tommy and Jerry rather than
Beautyful.
But now I have grown up... in fact I have passed on to Courage the Cowardly Dog.
I sigh as I sneak out of the cafeteria, not without being looked strangely by the
other employees who are already starting to get in the kitchen.
I never understood what so many cooks and waitresses serve to Gordon, as if for dinner tonight
there were not only him and one of his sons, but also the 101 Dalmatians of 'The charge of one hundred and one'.
Yes, I saw that too, but not the film, the cartoon.
I reach the gate trying not to attract anyone's attention, so I adjust my dress, then play the
intercom and pretend that this is the first time I see this castle.
After less than a minute I hear the door open and an elderly man, whom I have never seen as an employee,
most likely it is the butler, followed by Gordon: I open my eyes as soon as I see him, and then
run in his direction.
«I'm in trouble ...» - I start to say to my further's best friend, but he interrupts me without even letting me finish:
«You just have to say that Ester is your stage name!» - he says in a low tone and laughs under his mustache, and then clears his throat and watching me from head to toe.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. Even more beautiful in person." - he says as soon as his son appears behind him.
My heart rises in my throat at the sight of Edward in a suit and tie.
As he exchanges glances with his father, I take advantage of his distraction to stare at him, but then move my eyes away to his shoes
when he gets closer to me, leaving his father behind.
"Once again, it was nice to meet you, Hannah." - Gordon winks at me, watching me with a proud face and smiling to encourage me.
"Hannah?" - Edward takes a frown as his father walks away, abandoning me without noticing what he just said.
"Esther is my stage name!" - I hasten to follow Gordon's advice.
He forms an 'o' with his mouth:
"So… Hannah, you look beautiful tonight. Not that usually you aren't! "- he seems more embarrassed than me, which makes me feel more comfortable.
I smile at him, blushing slightly, as he invites me to follow him with one hand, pointing at one of the many
machines arranged in a row.
He looks around: «Where has that scoundrel gone?» - he laughs as he looks towards the entrance.
"Punctual as always." - Edward says soon after and rolls his eyes, turning to what I assume will be our
driver.
"I was busy. " - I am perplexed when I see James behind me, raising my eyes suddenly when I recognize his voice behind me.
I get surprised for his presence, but above all for the answer she just gave to Edward.
As soon as his eyes land on me, he looks at me from head to toe, then immediately averts his eyes from my body.
His threatening expression almost scares me as I mentally pray that he doesn't open his mouth and continue
to ignore me.
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