2
1921 Words
“Mail’s here!” Cried Olivia as she came through the door. She walked over to the table and sorted through the envelopes. The girls joined her each taking the envelopes addressed to them. There were bills and rejection letters from modelling agencies. Then Olivia held up an envelope with nothing but Cassia’s name scrawled across the front of it in black ink. “Wow, I wonder who this is from?”
Cassia couldn’t imagine who it was from. It didn’t look as if it had been mailed and yet it had been in her mailbox. “Open it up.” Sabrina urged. They were all eager to see what it was.
Cassia tore open the envelope and pulled out the folded piece of white paper. She unfolded it and read the simple message hand written. Six o’clock - fifth floor. Oh, dear lord, it was from Lance Sanchez. He hadn’t signed it, but she knew who lived on the fifth floor.
“Who lives on the fifth floor?” Charlotte asked.
“It would seem Cassia has an admirer.” Teased Kimberly. “Are you going to go?”
Cassia didn’t know what to say. The man had barely noticed her, how did he know where she lived even to send her an invitation? More importantly, why had he sent her an invitation?
“Well, are you?” Kimberly insisted.
It was Lance Sanchez, of course, she was going to go. Cassia went to her room and threw open her closet. What was she going to wear? The man was a fashion icon. Cassia had to look her best. She chose her best pair of skinny jeans and black heeled boots. A thick silver belt and a dark green t-shirt that said number one across the front and black silk scarf. She curled her dark hair and painstakingly applied her makeup until she felt it was flawless.
Once she dressed, Cassia took out her portfolio and quickly went through putting her best pictures up front. She looked at the clock and jumped to her feet. She was going to be late. It was a good thing he lived just upstairs.
***
Lance peered through the tiny magnifying glass as he scrutinized each picture on his contact sheet looking for flaws. He had been going over each sheet and found each flawless. He was good at his job, but that was because he was a perfectionist. In the background, he blared classic rock. He wasn’t listening to it but coming from such a large family; Lance found the white noise gave him the feeling that he was not alone.
When Lance heard the elevator, he placed his magnifying glass on the light table and stood up straight. He crossed the room and unlocked the sliding doors to allow his guest to enter. As the elevator reached his floor the doors slid open and out stepped the pretty little lady that had been trying to break into his mailbox.
She stepped into his loft with a big bright smile. Her long midnight hair was curled but down giving it volume and bounce. She had a sweet heart-shaped face with soft features, cute little nose, and blue eyes. She had a nice tight athletic figure, and in her slender hands, she held an eight by ten brown leather portfolio book.
She was a model, well at least she wanted to be, he could spot women like her a million miles away. His gaze lifted from her book to her excited face. She held out her hand to shake his. “Cassia Dillinger.” She introduced herself.
Lance shook her hand; she had a weak handshake, he thought, letting his hand fall to his side. “Lance Sanchez,” he said, “but then you already knew that,” Lance said heading back to his light table.
“Well yes. I know who you are, but I’m surprised you know who I am.” She said following him. Lance picked up the remote from the edge of the table and turned on the TV; he had set up the DVD Ted had given him in advance. A look of horror gripped Cassia as her jaw dropped watching herself on his TV. She hadn’t known they had security cameras. “Oh my god!” She gasped looking guilty. “I can explain that.” She said looking at him. Lance simply stood there awaiting her explanation. “Ok, I can’t. It’s just that I’m new here from Texas and I just needed an excuse to meet you. I wasn’t going to steal anything… ok, I was, but I was going to return it.” She prattled on.
Lance turned off the TV and returned the remote to the edge of the table. “I must admit this was a new one. Most girls hang out by my car or stalk me while I’m shopping.” He said admiring her guts. “So, you wanted to meet, and now we have.” Cassia looked relieved. “You have five minutes of my time.” It was more than he gave another woman.
Cassia jumped right to the point. “I want to be a model. I was hoping you could help me. After all, you are Lance Sanchez-”
“I know who I am.” He snipped. He went through this same speech more times than she could imagine.
“It’s just that you have influence and I was hoping…” She paused looking a little sheepish. “Would you just look at my portfolio?” Cassia asked holding the book out.
Humouring her, Lance took the book and flipped through it for about two seconds then handed it back to her. “It’s crap.”
“What?”
“It is crap.” He said slower.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing if you want to book the Wal-Mart flyers, but it’s not high fashion. It’s bland, dull, uninteresting. You don’t have one strong picture there. Nothing that grabs me or makes me want to start a conversation.”
“Could you help me make it stronger?” She asked quickly.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not memorable. Nothing about you grabs me. This look that you have - this down to earth girl next door is tired. This business looks for people that are edgy, and you are not.”
“But-”
“No,” Lance said returning his attention to his business and turning his back to her. “Now you can show yourself out.” Only she didn’t move. Lance looked back over his shoulder. She hadn’t left. She just stared at him with annoyance. “Can’t find the door?”
“You didn’t hear me out.”
“Yes, I did. You want to be a model, and you want me to help you, and I just told you I won’t.”
“Won’t or can’t?” She said with a sideways glance.
“What’s the difference?”
“Won’t implies you can’t be bothered. Can’t implies that you don’t have the ability. That you’re not as influential as you thought.”
Cassia was baiting him, playing on his ego, and it was working. Lance stood up straight bringing himself to his full height and looking down his nose at her. “I can do anything I want to.”
“I don’t think you can.” Cassia sighed heading for the elevator. “I was mistaken. I need to deal with someone that matters.” She added pushing the button.
“Hey! I matter. I’m a big name in this business.”
“Not big enough because you don’t have what it takes to make me a model.” She smiled sweetly. She was playing a game and playing it well. Most girls tried to build their career by bedding him, but this little country minx was using his ego against him. Very clever. Though he knew what she was doing, he couldn’t fight his sense of worth. He didn’t like being told he couldn’t do something.
Lance snatched the portfolio book from her hands with a loathsome glare. “Be here by eight tomorrow morning, and I‘ll make you a model.” She smiled triumphantly. “But if you rat me out to any of your friends all bets are off. I like to live in peace if you get my drift.”
“My lips are sealed.” She promised jumping up and down eagerly.
Lance strolled to the counter and placed her portfolio down open to the first page. She was pretty but making her high fashion wasn’t going to be easy. However, an idea did occur to him; if he could make this girl the next big thing, then he could rub it in Cindy’s face. He could replace her with someone younger. His gaze drifted to Cassia. “Do you want a drink?” He offered, opening the door to a refrigerated wine cellar.
“Oh, I’m not old enough to drink.” She said sweetly.
Lance smirked. It just got better. “How old are you?” He inquired.
“I turned eighteen six months ago.”
His smile widened as he poured himself a glass of wine. “Eighteen my favourite number.” He said taking a sip. This could work. “Have you ever modelled before?”
“I was Miss Teen Texas last year.” She said proudly.
“So, no.” She’d never done anything more than look at a magazine and take a few pictures with friends. “Ok well, high fashion is demanding, it takes more work than just standing there and looking pretty. You have to be able to do everything no matter how gruelling or ridiculous it may seem. If I do this for you, you will have to swear to do everything… absolutely everything I tell you to without question.” He waited for her response.
Cassia looked at him questioningly. “You’re not going to tell me I have to sleep with you, are you?”
He couldn’t stop from laughing, and she looked offended. “I don’t need s****l favours I’m capable of getting laid whenever I want to,” Lance assured her, “but I have an insight in this business, and for a girl as fresh as you, it may seem radical.”
“I will do anything.” She promised.
“We’ll see.” He said taking another sip. “You can go now.”
Without another word she got on the elevator and pressed the button. How did she turn this around on him? She was cleverer than he gave her credit for, which was good she would need it in such a cut-throat business. Tomorrow they would see just how much she wanted this.
- Writer
