"If you don't like it, you can choose ..." - Edward starts talking, but I interrupt him, forcing myself to
swallow the animal that I find in front of me :
"No, on the contrary!" - I take a knife and a fork randomly among those
around the plate, then imagine having a giant McDonald's burger in front of me and instead of the place
of vegetables crispy french fries.
I close my eyes as I chew and forcefully swallow, while Edward starts talking with a breathtaking smile:
"Tell me about you. I don't know much, I preferred not to read the folder, I wanted to hear from you in person. "
His words reassure me: who knows what was written in the biography of the real model!
"I live in a small neighborhood in Coumpton, but since I was a child I have wanted to see what was outside that small place."
"So the model's dream began?" - he interrupts me, before I could escape anything else, like the fact that my dream was to visit the world, but not the big cities, which I have already seen everywhere in photos, videos and
television, but the smaller cities, the hidden, undervalued ones, full of mysteries.
I just nod, meeting his eyes with mine.
"Who have you worked for so far?" - he suddenly asks soon after.
I was absolutely not prepared for such a question: I don't follow fashion, I know some designers,
but I don't know if they are still alive.
After all, this reality is far from mine. I spent my life closed in the kitchens of different restaurants,
I know names of great chefs, but not of fashion houses.
«Lefteris Lazarou!» - I say all of a sudden, quoting the name of a famous chef from the Greek 'Varoulko'.
He was the first to teach me traditional Athenian cuisine, one of my favorites.
"He was the first to hire me." - I nod at my words, while he frowns.
"I don't know him, is he an entrepreneur?" - he raises his hand, pointing to the waiter next to us, who moves from his seat and approaches to pour the wine into each of the glasses.
I just nod again, hoping to get out of the situation alive.
"Your parents, instead? Do they live in Greece?"- I would like not to lie to him about that too, so I look down on the
plate.
I feel even more guilty as I try to formulate a full sentence:
"Don't ..." - I stop suddenly, while he continues to eat the disgust that he finds on his plate.
I look around, almost in search of help, and my eyes spontaneously fall on the bodyguard standing behind him.
He's looking the floor with such a serious expression that I can't help getting distracted for few seconds, while his posture is that of a proud man: the tight jaw is in contrast with his relaxed expression, but suddenly his raises hos head, so I take my eyes away from his figure in order not to get noticed.
«Yes.» - I answer to Edward scrupulously, while I reach out to grab the glass of wine.
A few times alcohol has helped me to overcome moments of discomfort, and this is one of those situations.
The man in front of me raises his head from his plate and starts to speak, but he is interrupted by a man who suddenly approaches, wrapping his arm around his neck after giving him a pat on the back.
The first thing I notice is James hurrying up to get him away from Edward, but Edward does a sign with one hand to stop him, while the unknown man begins to speak:
"When was the last time we met?"
Edward laughs as he wipes his lips, but then remembers my presence, so he raises his head
indicating me:
"Marc, this is Hannah." - my name pronounced by his lips sounds fantastic, but instead of
distracting myself I show Marc a smile.
"Oh, nice to meet you. I thought you were gay, since you haven't dated a woman for years. »- he turns
to Edward as he reaches out his hand, inviting me to do the same.
I imitate him, then grab my fingertips and put his lips on the back of my hand.
I blush slightly, although I keep repeating mentally that I have to get used to all these gallant gestures.
He literally mistook me for a woman that is dating with Edward, which makes me smile underneath
or mustache.
"The pleasure is mine." - I nod slightly.
"It was a nice coincidence. Hannah, you will be working with Marc in the next few weeks, he is the photographer who
will take care of the photo shoot. "
Marc nods, looking at me closely, having just discovered that I am the model.
"So it's not what you think." - Edward continues, elbowing the photographer, who reciprocates with
a mischievous look.
«Better.» - he limits himself, and this answer is enough to make me hate this man.
I get annoyed by men who shamelessly flirt with mischief, but then he winks at me, so
I sigh understanding his joking tone.
"You are Greek, aren't you?" - I nod to his question, thinking that the other woman must have been of
Balkan origin.
"But I've been living in Coumpton for quite a while." - I add, trying to be convincing, but pretending is too damn difficult right now, almost
impossible for the presence of the man behind them, who knows everything and could reveal my identity without thinking twice.
"I've been to Greece few times, but there are some really beautiful models. Definite features. It really looks like they're make love with the camera. "-Marc says, but at his words I stop smiling.
He mustn't have such high expectations on me, it will already be a lot if I don't close my eyes when the flash appears,
something that often happens to me and in the photos I always go out with one eye closed and one open, as if someone had stuck his finger in my eye.
This is also one of the reasons why I don't like taking pictures and have no memories of my adolescence, just those photos that I was forced to do by my mother.
As soon as I think of her I look around for 'paparazzi', but after almost a quarter of an hour I don't
I see anything, so I go back to breathing normally, trying to enjoy dinner, if I can call it so.
"When do we start?" - I ask suddenly, interrupting the chat between the two.
"Oh, sure! On Monday you will come to my office at nine in the morning, then Marc will accompany you to rehearse
photo.
We will decide the other meetings that day together.
Marc has his commitments and is not always available. »- he smiles, talking about Marc as if he were not here among us.
I nod seriously, thinking about how to ask the witch to give me some days off, but then I think about
Gordon.
He was clear when he told me he would support me, so I try to convince myself to be calmer, even if it could happen at any moment that someone, like James, finds out
who I'm really pretending to be and goes to tell it Edward, which strangely James hasn't done yet.
The two go back to conversing as if I weren't there and I start mentally cursing Marc:
I thought I could speak to Edward freely tonight, that I could get to know him better, at least a part of his character, but
apparently today it will be impossible for me.
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