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The blow dry warms me from the outside and the hot food releases the chill inside me. By the time I’m done with both, I feel a little more able to form thoughts that don’t start and end with abject hopelessness.
I need to find a place to stay tonight. That’s my first priority once I’m done here. Fionnella has a laptop, but asking for it would involve too many questions. I toss the problem around while Angela combs and trims my hair.
Deciding I have no choice but to return to Queens and take my chances with the homeless shelter, I look up as Angela fluffs my hair one last time.
“There. We’re done with your hair.”
I look into the mirror and my eyes widen. My hair has always held a natural wave, but Angela has emphasized the curls with a hot iron and teased the layers so the caramel and blonde swirl around each other in eye-catching waves. I no longer have split ends and whatever product she used has left a shiny, healthy head of hair styled back away from my face. A few of the girls back at The Villa often attempted to replicate styles like these, but I’ve only ever seen perfection like this in a magazine.
My gaze lifts and catches hers in the mirror. “Thanks,” I murmur. I can’t summon more enthusiasm than that because, although I want to feel elated that my hair looks amazing, the purpose behind the makeover remains firmly locked in my mind.
The makeup session is even more dramatic than the hair, despite the subtle colors she uses. I barely recognize my own face by the time she finishes. I suddenly have noticeable cheekbones and my eyes are huge pools of deep green. I’m still staring at myself, stunned, when Fionnella walks in.
“Perfect, you’re right on time.” Her smile is back, although a touch strained at the edges. Angela excuses herself to tidy up and leaves Fionnella to judge her handiwork.
She makes pleased hums as she touches the curled ends of my hair.
“Come on, let’s get you fitted for the shoot.”
Her gaze follows me when I go to grab my stuff and when I return, she nods at my large backpack. “You look like you’re going somewhere. Is there a change of address we need to know about?”
I need to be careful with my answer. “I…yes, but I’m not exactly sure what it’s going to be just yet.”
The smile leaves her eyes. “Is there a problem I need to know about, Lucky?” She cuts to the point.
My grip tightens on my backpack and I decide to come clean. “The place I was staying at was kinda…raided.”
Her mouth purses. “Drugs?”
I shake my head quickly, although I can’t exactly stop her from forming her own opinion. My motel address is scribbled down on one of her clipboards. She knows in which part of town I live. Or lived. “No, some other…vermin problem. Anyway, I didn’t have time to find a new place because I had to come here.” The half-lie slips out easier than expected.
She spears me with an incisive look. “We won’t be done here for another couple of hours. You know that, don’t you? That means you won’t be able to start looking for a place to stay until almost midnight.”
I nod. “I’ll be fine,” I say. The dull thudding of my heart states otherwise.
Fionnella turns away without responding, and I don’t know whether my answer is satisfactory or not. Still in my gown, we head to Wendy’s station. “Put your stuff over there.” She points to the area behind her desk. “I’ll go and see if Todd is ready.”
But she doesn’t head to Todd’s area. She leaves the room for five minutes and when she returns her smile is back.
She inspects the lingerie on the table for a minute before she picks up a moss green ensemble. “This one first.”
To my surprise it’s a simple lace-trimmed half teddy and French knickers set. Considering the nature of what I agreed to, I was expecting the pieces to be much saucier than this. With a touch of relief, I retreat to the curtained off area and slip the garments on, taking care to avoid messing up my hair. The silk feels warm and soft against my skin, and I let my fingers drift over it for a stolen second before I emerge.
“Great, we got your size right.” She reaches for her clipboard and ticks a box, then cocks her head toward Todd’s area. As we head over, the lights dim and I notice the three staged areas for the first time.
One area is set up to resemble a window of a suite or bedroom. A posh velvet chaise longue is set against roped off, expensive curtains. The setting is classy and flawless, but it’s clear the spotlight is on the chaise.
The other two areas follow the same design—one’s a bed with sexily rumpled sheets, and the other the mirrored vanity of a black and gold bathroom.
Todd looks up from the piece of equipment in his hand and points to the chaise. “We’ll start there.”
Nerves attack me as I walk toward it. “What…what do you need me to do?”
“Just recline on it. Try not to exaggerate your poses. And look directly into the camera.”
I recite the steps and nod. “Okay.”
I climb onto the dais and walk to the chaise. The spotlight trained on the stage is warm but not uncomfortably so. I sit, place my hands on the seat and scoot back on the smooth velvet. It feels so natural to lay sideways and tuck my feet beneath me, so that’s what I do. Taking care not to ruffle my hair too much, I tuck it over my shoulders and recline into the corner.