“Oh, hello there. Who are you?”
Sitting there in HQ’s office on Broadway was someone who I definitely did not recognize to be Sharen Turney. From now on, whenever I hear the word sleazy, an image of this guy is going to come up, flashing like a neon “Open” sign. He had his shoulder length hair tightly sleeked back, a handlebar moustache, black leather pants that were probably suffocating his legs, and aviator sunglasses. INDOORS. Sunglasses INDOORS. And they’re definitely not for seeing purposes. If there was a douchebag national anthem (Pitbull should get to work on that. The ones he’s come out with now just aren’t upfront enough) I bet he would be the first to stand up, brimming with arrogance, and singing along. Of course, that didn’t happen any time soon. Had it though, that would have been pretty amusing. He smiled at me, showing off his pointy incisors.
“Helloooo Natalia. Sooo nice to meet you. I’m Jeff Reynolds.” He wiped his hand on his pants and stuck it out in front of me. I had no choice but to take it.
“Hi. Uh, where’s Sharen?”
“She’s doing some promoting for the summer collection in Italy.”
“But shouldn’t she be here for the thing in New York this week?”
“Ah yes. About that...” he rummaged around in the drawers, until he found a huge stack of papers and a pen.
“She wanted to see you here about signing your contract.”
“M-m-m-my contract?” Was I hearing him correctly?”
“Yup. Seeing as how you’re a big hit here, we’ve decided to make you a permanent as well as a runway Angel. Do you think you can stick with us for the next 5 years?”
“Sure, o-o-of course.” I quickly skimmed the contract, made a couple of notes in my head about some of the most important details, and then signed everywhere I was appointed to. No way this was actually happening. Jeff flashed his impossibly perfect teeth. He was probably wearing Invisalign. That would explain the hint of a lisp when he talked.
“Good. Now, as to who I am, I’m Sharen’s close and personal friend. She asked me to take over for her while she’s away.” Oh well, that made sense. I never suspected that Sharen would have such slimy friends though.
“Alright then. So when’s the fashion show?”
“Just 2 days from now! We’re having it downtown; it’s going to be quite fabulous. Oh! That reminds me, we need to have a limo arranged to drive you to and fro. Your address please?”
A limo? Well damn. I told him my address, and but still couldn’t get the image of me in a limo out of my head. I’ve always wanted to be in one. I almost dreaded going back home in a not so sleek, shiny, and luxurious minivan. When I do get back, I plan on calling Richard to tell him the big news, but there I find my mom waiting for me with a big surprise.
“Honey? Do you want to tell me why your credit card company is telling me that you’re over $25,000 IN DEBT?!” She shoved the letter in my face.
“OH SHIT. I mean, hi mom! Uh, I can totally explain! I can! You see, uh…I was on student loan for my last year in university, and uh, there was this thing after university with uh-“
“Don’t pull that shit on me Natalia Hawthorne! Over $15,000 of this is from your compulsive shopping problem!” Oh God, she was really steaming now.
“WHAT?! A problem?? Problem? Me? Shopping too much? No no no, that’s sooo not true!”
“When’s the last time you bought something?”
“Uhhh, yesterday when I went out for dinner?”
“Uh huh.” She gave one of those looks. You know, the Look? The one parents whip out on you that just have you clawing at the ground, begging for mercy.
“OKAY OKAY! Before I came home today I stopped at few things.”
“Alright then Nat, let’s see them.”
I grudgingly reached into my Coach bag and pulled out a shopping bag. Then another one. Then a super small one. Then a small box from Swarovski.
Yeouch. If looks could kill, I’m pretty sure I’d be sleeping with the fishing by now.
She grabbed everything, sat me down on the couch, and slowly took out each item, and examined it before throwing it aside, and digging in for another. She made sure to carefully read the price out loud before tossing the item away.
“Alright, let’s see what fabulous finds you scored at Marc Jacobs…ahem…$98.00 for a Victorian Tees Tank-“
“It goes with every pair of jeans I own-“
“Shush.” She flung the top over her shoulders. It landed softly on the ground, next to an empty beer can. Oh shit. I am so screwed. My mom gets aggressive as fuck when she drinks. She carefully removed the next item from the bag, and grabbed a hold of the price tag.
“$278.00, that’s two hundred and seventy eight smackaroos, for a red Jungle Silk Shirt.”
“Again, goes with everything I own, and it’s versatile! It-“
“Please stop talking.” Again, over her head, and onto the arm chair. And she did this again with the $88.00 Miss Marc top.”
“And in the other bag?” She pulled out a shoe box from Converse.
“Ah, of course. $65.00 for a pair of All Star Plaid Two Fold. And PLEASE don’t give me any crap about how “It’ll go with everything I own!”” She leisurely placed them back in the box, put the lid on the box, put the box in the bag, and threw it over the couch and out of sight.
“So Natty, what did you find in Chanel today?”
“Uhhhhh-“
“Rhetorical question. I believe you’re familiar with them.” She reached into the tiny bag, and pulled out a container. Turned it upside down and said,
“$115 for the new Coco Mademoiselle fragrance for women.”
“Why do you have to say all that? Obviously it’s for women if I bought it for-“
“Please. Stop. Talking.” Instead of throwing this, she set it aside next to her.
“Ah, and now, for the piece de resistance. The Swarovski box, please.”
I groaned and handed the box to her. She plucked it from my grasp, and opened to box, revealing a gorgeous pair of-
“$100.00 earrings.”
“For you,” I said. She looked stunned.
“For me?” She clutched her face all dramatically, like she was on a soap.
“Yes.” Honestly, no, I had been planning to buy those for me, and to wear them to the pink carpet, but I figured that maybe if it seemed as if I had bought something for her, that she wouldn’t be as mad at me.
“Oh my goodness!” She quickly got up and ran to the bathroom to try them on. They were long, gold, and had diamonds at the end. I sighed as she tried them on.
“These are beautiful! Thank you honey!” She enveloped me in yet another spine breaking hug. Then she said, “Oh, but you’re still in a lot of trouble. I mean, over seven hundred dollars in a day? That is unbelievable. So uh, you’re not allowed to leave the house for the rest of the day. And uh, I’m returning everything now. Except for of course, these earrings. Oooh, these are so pretty! I’ll be back in an hour Natty! Love you!” She blew me a kiss, and headed out the door, with all my nice things in her clutches.
I think I hate her.
YOU ARE READING
I Think I Knew That Model
HumorNatalia has come a long way from her geeky, loser teenage years, and now her dream to move to Manhattan and become a model and is a reality. While the lifestyle in is far from glamorous, she's finally happy with herself, and what her life has to of...
