Limelight

Not my scene

I flipped the card around in my hands, the sharp edges beginning to fade. I felt like I should at least call... But on the other hand, it was BEE’s working place. I don’t know if she’d appreciate my meddling. I hadn’t told her about what Marca had said to me on our way back, I was scared Bee might be angry with me. As much as I love her, she has a nasty side to her if she isn’t the centre of attention. Lucky for her, she is most of the time.

Even though I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of Bee’s scorn, I decided I could at least give Marca a call. Just to see what this ‘business opportunity’ would be, if I wasn’t interested I could still decline. Convincing myself I grabbed my phone and dialled the number on the back of the card. With every beep the phone made, I became more nervous. I felt like I was at a job interview.

“Modest! Management, how may I help you?” A friendly voice asked me. How could she help me? I didn’t know who I was calling for, I didn’t know what I was calling for... I didn’t know why I was calling at all. Marca had told me nothing of the sorts.

“Hi, this is Cassie. Carter. Someone told me to ring you up, Marca...- Actually I don’t remember her last name...” I stumbled over my words. I cannot believe how stupid I sound.

“Oh, that’s fine love. I’ll look her up for you.” Before I could say anything else I heard a click and music started playing. I’d been put on hold. While waiting I’d made myself a cup of boiling hot tea and sat back on my couch. After a few minutes I heard another unfamiliar voice.

“Mrs. Bloomsdale’s office, how can I help you?”

“Hi, this is Cassie Carter. I’m calling for Marca.” I sound a lot more confident this time, now that I’d had the time to prepare. I heard another click, a bit offended I hadn’t even gotten a reply out of the woman I was talking to. This was short-lived though, as Marca now picked up her phone.

“Marca Bloomsdale speaking.” She said curtly.

“Uhm, hi Marca? This is Cassie. You probably don’t remember me but-”

“Yes Cassie, ofcourse! I wouldn’t forget you, how could I? Have you thought about my proposal?” Her tone warming up slightly.

“Well I was calling about that.” I relaxed a bit. “I was wondering... What would this proposal be?”

“I am certain you will enjoy it, but we can’t really do this over the phone now, can we? Would you happen to have time to stop by the office today?”

Figuring that my alternative was spending my day on the couch watching reruns of Friends, I suppose I should do something a bit more productive.

“Yes I can. What’s the address and how late would you like me to be there?” I asked, frantically searching my coffee table for a pen and something to write on.

“Oh honey, don’t worry about that. I’ll just have someone pick you up in an hour, is that okay?” The irony of my comment to Bee a day earlier was not lost on me. We bid our goodbyes as I ran into my bathroom.

One hour. I had to look my best, even though I still didn’t know what she wanted to see me for. It couldn’t hurt to leave a good impression with someone as influential as Marca, so I decided to go all out. I curled my blonde hair in loose waves and tried to use some of the make-up techniques Madge had taught me. It didn’t come out looking as spectacular as she made it look, but it was pretty none the less. I went to my room and started panicking when I realised I still hadn’t done my laundry. I couldn’t wear the same clothes I wore yesterday, they’d think I wouldn’t own anything else. Okay, it was time to get creative. I searched the floor for the least crinkled item I could find, which turned out to be a long, burgundy knit jumper. I picked up a pair of leather leggings and grabbed my Doc Martins. On second thought, I threw the shoes into a corner and picked up some sky-high heels I haven’t worn to often lately. Carefully positioning a black bowler hat on my loose curls, I walked over to the mirror to admire my outfit. It looked cute, but it needed a little pow. A finishing touch. I walked back into the bathroom, at a considerably slower pace thanks to the heels, and grabbed a burgundy lipstick that was nearly the same colour as my jumper. I carefully dragged the coloured stick across my lips, rubbing them together after. I smiled at my reflection, perfect.

There was a knock on my door a few minutes later. As I opened up, I saw an older, slightly balding man.

“Ms. Carter? The name’s McClary.  I’m ‘ere to pick yeh up. Bring yeh to the office.” He spoke with a heavy Irish accent.

“Right.” I smiled at him. “I guess we should go. Or do you want anything to drink first?”

The man smiled a toothy grin at me. “Thanks miss, but we gotta get yeh on the road. Missus Bloomsdale was quite urgent bout it.”

I nodded and followed him out. A black car stood waiting, motor still roaring. McClary opened the door to the backseat for me, and I mumbled a thanks. He then slid into the front seat and started driving.

“So, I havn’t seen yer around. Yeh work for Modest?” The man eyed me through the mirror.

“No I don’t.” I smiled at the man. Maybe I will though, I added in my mind. I didn’t want to jinx it by saying it out loud. An awkward thirty minutes later we stopped in front of a big, modern looking building. The whole outside basically consisted of glass, and left me feeling queasy just looking at it. I was somewhat afraid of heights, so I just hope I wouldn’t have to be at the top floor.

“Yeh just walk straight in there and asked the main desk for missus Bloomsdale. You have an appointment.” The man said over his shoulder. I grabbed my bag and hopped out the car, telling McClary a quick goodbye. I tried to walk over to the desk as confident as I could, but the ride up to the 8th floor to see Marca left me a bit lightheaded. I’d be fine as long as I didn’t look out of the windows, but they seemed to be everywhere. I took a calming breath before exiting the elevator, and I sat down in one of the chairs next to an office door that held Marca’s name. 

As soon as I sat down the door had swung open to reveal the pointed woman.

“Cassie, doll! Come in, come in!” She spread her arms like when she met Bee yesterday, but the look on her face told me she had no intention of hugging me as fondly as she did with her. I just stepped into her office, immediately overwhelmed by the posh-ness of it all. Large displays with tens of awards shone in the light cast upon them. As I feared, the whole back wall was glass, and I tried not to focus on this. In front of the glass stood a massive desk where Marca was now perched behind.

“Sit down love, make yourself comfortable. How was your trip?” Marca chatted away. I answered politely and we had a bit of small talk before Marca folded her hands together and got a serious expression on her face.  

“Right, let’s get down to business. I won’t be able to tell you anything without you signing a contract of secrecy. What I have to offer is very rewarding, but also very privacy sensitive to this company. So before we continue, I want to ask you to sign this document.” She handed me a single sheet of paper. “It doesn’t oblige you to anything, other than your secrecy about the matters we discuss today. If you sign and don’t like what we’re offering, you are not obligated to anything else than silence about this meeting.” I quickly scanned the document, like my mother taught me, she would be proud that I didn’t just trust people on their word. Well, she would be if I could tell her. I wasn’t much wiser about the reason why I was here, but I was now filled with a burning curiosity. This wasn’t at all like I expected, I’d thought maybe she would offer me a job as a model like she did with Bee. I grabbed the pen Marca was holding out for me to take, and signed my name. A look of relief crossed her face as I handed back the signed document.

“Thank you Cassie. Now here’s the deal. We at Modest, represent a lot of internationally known artists. We make sure they get booked, do the PR, and lots of other stuff you wouldn’t be interested in. Apart from the business side of things, we also look at the artist’s emotional aspect. Right now, we have a buzzed about client who is about to release another record, but none of the attention and press he’s been getting focuses on this. The press is more interested in the dating life of this man, rather than the work he is doing. He wants to redirect some of this negative attention away from his social life and turn it into some positive attention for the album. We need to make sure he is no longer seen as a ladiesman, so paparazzi will stop following his every move. Apart from the fact it directs attention away from the music, it is also been wearing him out emotionally. For there to be no more buzzing, there has to be nothing to buzz about. Now here’s where you come in...” The cryptic speech had left me more than confused, but I continued listening anyway.

“Cassie, I want to offer you a part. But it would not be in a play, or a movie... It would be in your regular life. Cassie, we need you to play the part of Harry Styles’ girlfriend.”