I entered the restaurant slowly, searching for her familiar face.
“Izzy! Over here!” I heard her shout from the right of me. I turned my head and smiled. It never hurt to see a friendly face when everything seemed to be going wrong. I approached the table and gently kissed her cheek with a smile.
“How is my favorite cover girl doing these days?” I asked Madeline as I sat opposite of her, removing my coat in the process. The restaurant was crowded and a hum of voices filled the air but did not overpower it. Maddy chuckled at my nickname and took a sip from her long stem glass that held a deep burgundy liquid.
“I’m doing great. At the very least, I am surviving. Models are catty Izzy. Trust me on this. No one is ever a real friend in my business.” Maddy smiled and set her glass down, running her fingers gently down the stem of the glass before fully removing her hand from it. It was almost as if she enjoyed the cool smooth surface and was remiss to relinquish it.
“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing that you have me, huh?” I raised a brow at her as I motioned for the waiter. She leaned forward on the pure white, silky tablecloth, and placed her chin in her hands. Her soft brown curls fell over her perfectly manicured hands like a sheet. Her deep brown eyes seemed to hold mine just a moment too long to be proper. My tongue darted out to wet my suddenly dry lips in a nervous habit. Maddy had the same effect on everyone. Most men steered clear of her beautiful mischievous look. I knew from the moment I met her that she was trouble.
My ex girlfriend had forced me to go to some gala event. God knows, I had plenty of money to spend on charities, and my girlfriend knew I was happy to oblige her philanthropic adventures. For some reason, her name escaped me. This fact was probably due to a major event occurring at said gala event. The room was silent as the announcer spoke about some charity or another and my mind wandered off. It took me about fifteen minutes to notice that my girlfriend was missing and another ten to find her in a closet in a very compromising position with none other than Maddy.
The thing that was most memorable about the night was not the end of the relationship with whatever girl I was dating that week. It was meeting Maddy. And there we were, three years later, as thick as thieves.
“You have hardly been around as much these days, love.” Maddy pouted slightly, a total ruse from what I could tell. I showed my disbelief with a roll of my eyes.
“You act like every lawyer in the world has tons of free time to gallivant with her best friend. The last time we hung out you got me arrested for prostitution!” I grinned at the memory. Maddy threw her hands up in feigned innocence.
“Hey! It’s not like the charges stuck. It only took them about five minutes to realize that you were a lesbian.” She paused and ran a hand through her silky hair. “I think it’s all the flannel that you wear, love, or maybe that butch haircut.” Maddy said with a grin, revealing a set of brilliantly white teeth. Every inch of Maddy screamed model. Her nose was small and straight with a light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge. They would cover up this anomaly in pictures but I always thought they were her best feature. Her lower lip was slightly fuller than her upper lip which gave her the illusion of constantly pouting, something that most people found quite appealing. I frowned.
“I do not wear flannel! And this is a 200 dollar haircut that you are talking shit about!” I grunted, very unladylike. “And you spouting all those stereotypes about lesbians, it does not help our cause young lady.” I said with a feigned serious look. Maddy pursed her lips in pretend annoyance.
“I am 2 years older than you! Young lady, my ass! I am practically retired in the modeling community!” I rolled my eyes again at her ridiculous statement. I had never thought about her age according to her profession before but at that moment I realized that perhaps she was right. Thirty in modeling age was damn near sixty in normal years. I smiled as the waiter finally brought my scotch and I brought the glass to my lips. I loved the stark contrast of the cold glass and the heat that resulted from the liquid within it. I gritted my teeth against the burn.
