Not Just A Pretty Face

9. Leonel

The kettle whistled upstairs, and I stretched and uncurled from the couch. “Want me to bring you a cup?”

“Yes, black, two sugars.” Nora, my landlady, was sewing a hem with quick, precise stitches that never failed to impress me.

“I know how you take your tea,” I laughed, heading for the bottom of the stairs. “Anything else?”

“Something for yourself. You can’t starve all that weight off.”

“I can try,” I retorted. By the time I got to the top of the stairs, I was a little dizzy, but I’d had worse. I only needed to lose five pounds for the show -- Raymond had told me I was damn near perfect already.

Good thing I barely ate.

Nora was right, though. I had to feed my body, too, or I wouldn’t be able to work out and maintain any kind of muscle mass.

As I waited for the tea to steep, I watered the plants along the windowsill. The little herb garden was soothing to look at, and we were allowed to use fresh parsley or basil from the potted plants.

The other guys who lived here, each paying six hundred bucks a month for their room and these shared facilities, rarely cooked. One worked in the finance industry, another was on an unpaid media internship, there was a tech guy, and one was in the fashion business like me.

I was in the fashion business now.

I grinned, leaning on the counter and checking the teapot. Good enough.

I poured us each a cup and headed back down to Nora.

“So, you were telling me about the test shoot,” she reminded me once I handed over her cup. “The second one really went that well? I could tell you’re a natural.”

“You think? They said that, too.” I grinned. “They told me they’re giving me a big break in London. I’m being thrown in the deep end.”

“And you love every moment of it. Look at you glowing,” Nora laughed.

My cheeks burned as I rubbed my face and tried to cool my jets. “Right. Yeah.”

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s just unusual for anyone in that industry to be so… well, non-ironically passionate.”

“Yeah,” I snorted. “Everyone acts like they’re too good for the place. I mean, I am the best damn new face they’ve ever signed, but even the secretary has an attitude there.” I sighed as I pushed myself to my feet. “I gotta do laundry and sort through my closet. I hope they pay me for my couple days worked soon. That’ll buy another few key pieces…”

Nora looked up at me, setting down her needle for a moment. “I’m glad for you, Leo.”

“Yeah.” I glowed. Just days before New York’s fashion week, when the city was flooded with the best wannabe-models, it felt damn good to be recognized. Not just acknowledged, either. Invited to join the elite ranks of models being flown to London next week.

I hadn’t seen Gideon since he’d told me he was giving me my big break. That wasn’t the surprise, though. It was that I wished I’d seen him around more.

I fidgeted with my brass ring as I headed upstairs to sort out my wardrobe for the next intense week. Having something to do with my hands kept me distracted from thinking about why I missed seeing Gideon around.