Chapter 11

Charlotte

After school I did not go home like I did every other afternoon. I found the modeling agency on my GPS and drove straight to it, where I paid too much to parallel park right by the street.

I got out of my car, unsure what to expect, and went to the building’s door where there was a stern-faced security guard.

I greeted him politely, then opened the door and looked around, careful not to miss anything. Judging by the photos displayed on the walls, the women here modeled just about everything.

There were fancy dress, runway, and bikini shoots. Fashion modeling was not the only thing they did. They also posed next to cars and houses to make these things seem more attractive.

I spotted the Red-eyed Lady in several photos. My eyes were drawn to her every time, and seeing her made me feel sick.

My stomach turned with guilt, and I couldn’t help but think back to how I had watched her get murdered and done nothing.

“Hello, miss, how may I help you?” the receptionist asked.

I pushed the memories aside and looked at the receptionist. She sounded friendly, but her smile was tight, and she had plenty of wrinkles on her forehead, no doubt from constantly frowning. Her name tag read Rosetta.

“Hi,” I said, and fumbled in my school bag until I found the brochure.

Rosetta recognised the brochure immediately. “If you want to be a model, you can’t just walk in here. You should have a portfolio.”

“Actually, I don’t want to be a model,” I said. “I was hoping you could tell me about this woman.” I pointed to the Red-eyed Lady.

In this photo her eyes were not bloodshot, like I imagined them to be after being strangled. They were big, beautiful, bright, and full of life.

“I cannot give you any personal details about our models,” Rosetta said.

“Can I speak to them?” Women were chatting in a room somewhere in the back. It sounded like there were plenty of people.

“I’m afraid that will not be possible,” Rosetta said. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No thanks,” I said.

I turned and went outside, but instead of going back to my car, I headed around to the back of the brick building. I had not come all this way for nothing.

My heart was beating a little bit faster because I was doing something I was not allowed to do. Breaking the rules was much more fun with Dimitri by my side.

But this wasn’t about fun. This was about finding information about the Red-eyed Lady. I just wanted to forget her—but she wouldn’t let me. Maybe if I learned what she wanted me to, she would go away.

There was a metal door at the back. It was cold to the touch and unlocked, so I let myself in. I did not have to go far before I found the changing rooms.

Tall, skinny, and beautiful women were everywhere. I felt incredibly self-conscious and realized I was way too short to become one of them.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly, and several faces turned to me.

All these women had such sharp cheekbones. Some wore makeup, while others were getting their faces painted. All of them had different hairstyles, and one had a towel wrapped around her head.

They were dressed casually, and I assumed they would get into their modeling clothes once they were done with their hair and makeup.

There were makeup artists between them who also looked my way, and the difference between the artists and the models was clear. The artists were smaller and did not look like porcelain dolls.

“Are you here to walk on the catwalk for the upcoming fashion show?” one of the artists asked me.

“No. I am looking for this woman.” I showed the nearest model the photo of the Red-eyed Lady.

“Mia Brooks.” She said her name placidly. “Why are you looking for her?”

“She is my cousin,” I lied. “I have not seen her in a while.”

“No one has,” a red-haired model told me.

“She has not shown up for any of her photo shoots lately,” the artist added.

A skeptical blond looked at me. She had a thin, pointy nose, and I had a feeling she was good at sticking it into other people’s business. Her cheeks were as pink as a rose, and her lips were pressed into a thin line.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Should I?” I did not recognize this woman. For a moment I wondered if the woman was a celebrity. If she was, should I be embarrassed for not knowing who she was?

“I’m one of Mia’s closest friends. My name is Lizzy. She never mentioned you to me.”

I shrugged. “We aren’t close.”

Lizzy looked down at me as if I was an insect, as if I was a low-life. I held my ground and refused to be intimidated. Just because Lizzy was gorgeous did not mean that she was more important than me.

This room was full of mean girls. I felt like I was in a school cafeteria filled with bullies who did not like to eat.

I asked, “Do you have any idea where Mia could have gone?”

“Maybe she’s out on a shopping spree,” the artist said.

“It’s not like she’s never left unannounced before,” a model with black hair said. “I wouldn’t worry. She will come back as soon as she runs out of money.”

“Or men,” another added, and they laughed, softly like little birds that had taken a bath in a fountain and got caught.

“Men?” I asked.

“We all know she could not keep her legs shut,” the red-haired model said.

“Neither can you, Amy,” Lizzy sneered.

“Don’t act like I’m on her level,” Amy said. “I like classy men that don’t yell at me. I like to be treated like a queen, and I don’t spend my time running after jerks.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she got knocked up,” the woman with the black hair added, “and she is staying away from work because she wants to keep the pregnancy a secret.”

“She could just get an abortion,” Amy said.

“Mia would ~never~ kill a child!” Lizzy said. “She has a good heart and wants nothing more than a family. It’s not her fault she is a loser magnet.”

“It is!” Amy argued. “She chooses the worst men. I heard she once dated a drug addict.”

“She even told me that,” the woman with black hair said. “And all of us know she’s sleeping with our boss. That’s the only reason she got a raise.”

“She’s not,” Lizzy said. “She has been in a serious relationship for six months now—and not with our boss. All that woman wants is her own family and a lot of love.”

“Oh, she gets a lot of love.” The black-haired woman offered a dirty smile.

“Shut up,” Lizzy said.

“Have you ever met this man?” Amy asked.

“No.” Lizzy’s face had turned red.

I thought that she was nasty, but I still admired her loyalty. Juan was my best friend, and if anyone were to badmouth her, I’d stand up for her. I’d stand up for her in front and behind her back.

I wondered how the woman would react if she knew her friend was dead. Obviously, I would not be the one to tell her.

“Then how do you know he is real? Who’s to say she did not make him up?” Amy asked.

“She is not making him up,” Lizzy said sternly. “They are just taking this slow.”

“Maybe he was paying her for it,” the black-haired model suggested.

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” Lizzy said. “She has a good heart and can’t help but fall in love easily.”

“From what she’s told me, she always falls in love with scumbags,” Amy said. “They promise her the world and end up using her and tossing her in the trash.”

“I’ve told her she should grow a thick skin,” Lizzy said, “but she never will. She always looks for the best in people.”

“How long has she been missing?” the woman with the black hair wondered.

“She’s not missing,” a model with long hair said. Her hair was almost as long as mine, but it was silkier and smoother. “She went on vacation with her lover. She told me so herself.”

“Who is he?” Amy asked.

“She wouldn’t say, but she told me it’s getting serious,” the long-haired model said.

“I told you she has a man,” Lizzy sneered at Amy.

I was glad I did not have to say much to keep the conversation going. These women would not stop talking. It felt as if everyone had forgotten about me, but I was accustomed to being invisible.

“Mia doesn’t know what serious is,” Amy said.

“I’ve heard enough. Shut your mouth,” Lizzy said.

“I would not be surprised if the guy was married.”

“I said shut it,” Lizzy said. “Or I will shut it for you.”

“Prove it.” Amy put one hand on her hip and stuck out her chin. Her smug smile did not fade when Lizzy stomped over to her.

“Are you seriously going to slap her?” the model with the long hair asked.

“Yeah, but you won’t enjoy it as much as your man did last night,” Lizzy said to Amy.

Amy was the one who lost it. She clawed at Lizzy like an angry kitten. “You lying whore! He would never touch you!”

Lizzy shrieked as a nail raked across her face. She immediately clawed back, and then they grabbed each other’s hair and pulled. I took a step away from the madness.

The other models were also screaming now, but they did not join the fight or try to break it apart. Some had their hands in front of their mouths while others shook them in the air as if there was a fly they wanted to ‘shoo’ away.

The receptionist, clearly alerted by all the screaming, stormed in. “What is going on in here?” Then she saw the two girls.

They fell over and sent bottles of glitter into the air. The bottles smashed on the floor and the glitter covered the floor like fairy dust.

“Security!” Rosetta called. The big security man, who had stood guard at the door earlier, came running in. He easily lifted Lizzy off of Amy. She was kicking and thrashing as he stepped in between them.

“Stop it!” the receptionist told them. Then she noticed me, and I wished I could disappear into thin air like a ghost. “I thought I told you to leave!”

~Caught!~

I bit my lip as the security guard grabbed my arm and escorted me out. He did not say a word to me, which seemed to make the situation worse.

I forced myself to breathe, and once we were out of the building, I pulled my arm free and returned to my car. I was happy to be out of there and made a mental note to never become a model.

I thought about all the crazy things they had said. Most had merely been gossip and rumors. The only woman who knew Mia well was Lizzy—as they were obviously friends. I decided to focus on the things Lizzy had said.

I wondered if it was true that Mia had been dating someone. And it was rumored that she was sleeping with her boss. Was it possible that one of these men murdered her? If so, who was he?

***

I got home later than usual. Juan was in her room and did not even notice me coming up the stairs. Both my parents were working, so they would not know I had come home late and would not bombard me with questions.

I went to my room, sat down at my desk, which was close to the window, and started doing my homework.

I was deep in thought and got such a huge fright when I looked up and saw two hands at my window sill that I fell off my chair.

“Dimitri!” I cried. “You scared me!”

His stealth and excellent tree-climbing skills reminded me of a cat.

“I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly. Then he stood there as if he was not sure whether to help me up or not. I got to my feet like the independent woman I am.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Should I go?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, and immediately regretted making him feel unwelcome. “I enjoy your company.”

“I enjoy yours too,” he said. “I was just feeling lonely, so I thought I would visit.”

I looked out of the window. “I don’t see your car.”

“We’ve not replaced it yet.”

“And your phone?”

“It should be repaired soon,” he said.

“How did you get here?” I was asking as many questions as my parents did. Luckily, Dimitri didn’t look annoyed.

“One of my friends lives close by. I caught a ride with him.”

“Oh,” I said, and sat down at my desk again.

Amore was glaring at Dimitri, but she was not barking the way she always did.

“I think she is finally warming up to me.” Dimitri took a seat on the bed, and the dog immediately jumped off and ran to my feet.

I laughed. Usually, my laugh was contagious, but today I snorted and immediately felt embarrassed.

Dimitri looked at me as if I was a beautiful flower, despite my stupid laughter. I wondered if he would try to pick and keep me. A part of me wanted him to.

“What are you thinking?” Dimitri asked.

“Uh.” I had to think fast. “Where did you learn to draw?”

“I taught myself. My father bought me a drawing kit when I was very young. I quickly realized that I had a passion for it.”

“And a talent,” I said.

He shrugged humbly. His eyes went to the school books in front of me. “I did not intend to come here and distract you.”

“You are a good distraction.” I gazed at him.

“Are there any other ways you’d like me to distract you?” he asked.

Was he teasing me? I was not sure if that question had hidden implications, but my heart was hammering like I had just run a marathon.

“You can teach me to draw.” I blushed once I realized how lame that sounded.

“Sure,” he said. “Do you have an extra chair?”

“I do.” I got up and went to the study, where I retrieved an extra chair and brought it back.

Dimitri did not walk with me, and I assumed he didn’t want my family to catch him uninvited in our house. Juan was blasting music from her room and would have no idea he was there.

Dimitri took a seat while I packed up my books. I stuffed them back into my bag and only left the notebook on my desk.

“I don’t want to be the reason your grades slip,” Dimitri mumbled.

“They won’t,” I said. “I was doing some extra work. All of the work that has to be done for tomorrow is already done.”

“Good,” he said, and opened the book. He paged past his name, number, and the pink orchid. “What do you want to draw?”

I shrugged. “What do you suggest?”

“I like flowers,” he confessed. “I could teach you how to draw one.”

“Can I get a picture from Google Images for guidance?”

“No,” he said. “You should use your imagination. That makes it more special and unique.”

If I was not going to copy a picture, I would have to choose a flower I knew well. “Why don’t we draw a red rose?”

“Alright,” Dimitri said. “You have to picture it in your mind and then put that picture down on paper.”

“That’s easier said than done,” I said.

“I will show you,” Dimitri said.

I was so close to him, but I resisted the urge to touch him. I wanted him to make the first move.

He was speaking. He was explaining and giving instructions, but I was not listening. I was examining his jawline and the little muscle that bulged every time he spoke.

His chocolate eyes as they raced over the paper. His long fingers and clean nails. He held the pencils as if they were fragile. I wondered how his hands would feel on me . . .

He finished the rose. It was beautiful. The rose was red, its stem a faded green. The background was gray and dull so that it focused attention on the rose. Dimitri signed it for me.

“I hope you listened,” he said, “because next time you are drawing me one.”

“Am I?” I asked.

“Yes.” He offered me his silly, trademark smile.

“But I have one condition,” I said.

“And what is that?”

“Join me and my family for dinner this weekend.” He went pale, and I laughed. “They are not that bad, I swear. They are dying to meet you.”

“I’m not good with parents,” he warned me.

“And I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” I said.

Before Dimitri could reply, my dad arrived home. We heard his car and the garage door open.

“You have to leave before he sees you. I did not ask for permission for you to be here.”

Dimitri laughed. “I slept in your bed, but now you are scared?”

“Go!” I said.

He laughed, then made his way to the open window, where he climbed out with the grace of a predator.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night at six,” I told him.

“Okay.”

Then he disappeared into the night, and it was as if he had never been there.

My father came upstairs. He greeted me first, and I asked him if Dimitri could join us for dinner. My father agreed and said that he looked forward to meeting him.

I looked out of the window, but saw only houses, the road, and the big tree next to our house. I turned from the window and went to my desk where I studied the beautiful rose Dimitri had drawn.

I was suddenly overwhelmed by a longing I had never felt before. I admitted to myself, alone in my room, that I had a crush on Dimitri.