“I have to ask you for something.”
She rolled the eyes that had doomed her.
“And here it comes.”
“No, no.” As he spoke, he peeled off the rest of the money. “It’s just, I need you to take off your makeup.”
“Why?”
“The vision I have. A young woman, her pure beauty. There’s a bathroom right there. Makeup remover, whatever you need. And the wardrobe’s in there, too. I’ll arrange the headpiece when you’re done with the rest. The scarves.”
He walked over, picked them up.
“To cover your hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Nothing.” If you liked spiky, streaky brass and pink. “But for this study, again, it’s the face. The scarf will highlight your face.”
“Whatever. It’s your money.”
He just smiled. “I already know it’s well spent. Do you want a drink? Maybe a glass of wine? Since you’re new to modeling, it could help relax you?”
“Sure, pour away, Johnny.”
He bristled at the “Johnny” as she walked into the bathroom. But he opened a bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé as she called out from behind the door.
“You want me to wear all this? It sure won’t show off my talents. Really pretty color though. Classy.”
He sipped some wine. He rarely drank when working, but he had to admit to nerves. This marked the beginning of a new era for him, and one he absolutely believed would bring him the notoriety he deserved.
When she stepped out, those nerves evaporated.
“I knew it. I knew you were perfect. Here, have some wine while I arrange the scarves. I want this deep, rich blue next to your face, a wide band of color with a sharp demarcation to the old gold of the rest, and the lighter blue in the ends a touch against the gold of the jacket.”
“You know what you want. This wine’s really good. I never had anything like it.”
“You can have another glass a little later. Yes, the blue low on the forehead and over the top of the ears, the gold—almost like a turban with the ends trailing.”
“Where’d you get the idea for all this?”
“Who knows where ideas come from? I need you to take off your earrings, and put these on.”
She frowned at what he offered. “Those are like old lady deals.”
“Trust me, they’re just right.”
“You’re the boss.”
He took a long look at her, nodded. “Wonderful. Amazing.”
He led her to a stool. “I’m going to turn your body so your shoulder’s facing me. Then your head turned toward me. Like three-quarter profile. Tip your chin a little—yeah, that’s it. Just hold that, okay?”
He stepped back, picked up a camera.
“Why do you need that?”
“It’ll help me work when you’re not here. Now, without moving your head or your body, turn your eyes toward me. Just your eyes. Fabulous eyes. And part your lips. Not a smile, no, don’t smile. It’s like, like you’re taking a breath. Better, good, a little less.”
