When up-and-coming model Isabelle meets talented but jaded photographer Milo, sparks fly despite their age difference. Their romance becomes the talk of the New York City fashion scene, fueling rumors and speculation about their scandalous affair. A...
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The reason her manager was calling was to 'check in on how the casting call with that photograph went'.
Isabelle felt awkward, she had never lied to her manager before, or to anyone really, but she felt she couldn't tell her the whole thing. At least not yet. She was no HR expert but she felt that she was crossing some line. Though to be honest, girls were being take advantage of all the time.
This...was something else. But she did not yet have enough data to determine just what to call it.
"It was dine," Isabelle said, taking a sip of her iced americano, the ice all meted making it extra cold.
She got up to go inside the coffeeshop.
"Fine? Fine as in do you think you got it? Or at least enjoy it?"
"Why? Do you know if I got it?" Isabelle asked, walking through the empty coffee shop - a perk of working off hours - she got to enjoy the rare empty establishments in the rare off hour in new york.
"That's wh I'm asking you...Isabelle, I don't know how to say this," Isabelle was concerned, her manger never used her full name like that, "maybe its not my place, but you've been acting...odd. Lately."
Isabelle froze, don't dare to bring it up, she thought to herself. Don't dare...
And as if reading her mind, "I dint' want to bring it up, but it is my responsibility as your manager - as your friend - to ensure your wellbeing."
Isabelle started walking faster, out on the street.
"If you feel that things are getting, out of control again, even a little bit, you need to nip it at the bud, not let it get out of hand like last tine..."
"That's okay, Claire," Isabelle said through gritted teeth, "because it won't be like last time."
Silence.
"Okay, I'm just watching out for you. Let me know if you need anything, that's all."
Isabelle felt the anger flooding her body, how dare she, bring it up after I told her how it makes me feel. How irrelevant it all is now.
"Actually, something did happen, Claire," Isabelle stared, walking outside, letting the chilly air nip at her cheeks. But before she let herself get overwhelmed by her emotion, she reminded herself to breathe.
"Yes??" Claire asked.
"Nothing, nothing. It went fine," Isabelle decided not to five in to the fight like that, instead to choose her battle. "I, did a lingerie shoot."
"Oh," Claire said. "But I thought you knew that was part of the job."
She knew and she didn't care. She did enough up to this day, but she needed to say something so she could side step the fact that she slept with Milo.
It all seemed so romantic in her head, but all of a sudden, seeing it from Claire's perspective, she felt all of a sudden like she did something wrong.
"Yeah," Isabelle finally said, "guess I forgot. That's all."
Claire sighed on the other side of the line. "Call your parents. Do something for yourself. I haven't heard anything back, but they're expecting to make a decision soon. I'll let you know as soon as I know."
Isabelle nodded, "talk to you later."
"Oh and Isabelle," her manger said, "come by the office soon, we need to get your measurements.
"Sure," and then Isabelle hated to do this but she hung up.
How could one beautiful phone call be overshadowed by another.
She took the subway to the West Village, where she went and got the most overpriced piece of cake for dinner.
She sat at the Nolita park with all the old men, and wished she could erase all of her past up until now. But it was never that easy, was it.
