Second Chance At The Ranch. Maxine Morrey

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ over to her friend once the photo shoot finally ended, and gave her a hug. ‘You OK?’

      Hero nodded. ‘Yes, fine, thanks. You know what he’s like.’

      Anya rolled her eyes in agreement.

      ‘Is that assistant all right?’ Hero asked as Anya waited for her to change back into her own clothes.

      ‘She’s fine. I know her boss pretty well and had a gentle word.’

      Hero flicked a glance up as she sat and tied the lace on her designer boots. ‘Gentle?’

      Anya shrugged, then grinned. ‘The poor thing. Armand can be so awful sometimes. He thinks far too much of himself.’

      Hero stood and pulled her hair into a low ponytail before pulling a baseball cap on. They had dinner reservations at a restaurant’s opening night and, now that the photo shoot had run on far longer than it was supposed to, she didn’t have time to go home and change. The make-up was much heavier than she would normally wear for something like this, but it would have to do now. The cap lent an air of casualness to her look and she knew, like so much in this world, if she acted like she was confident about it, no one would know the truth.

      ***

      ‘How’s your head?’ Anya asked as they stepped out from the Tube carriage and into the mass of life that was a London Underground station at rush hour.

      ‘It’s going off, thanks.’ Hero smiled.

      The women exited the station within a swarm of others before managing to disentangle themselves from the crowd to walk the short distance to the restaurant. Anya tugged on her friend’s sleeve to slow her.

      ‘What’s the matter?’

      Anya looked at her. ‘You.’

      Hero frowned.

      ‘You still have a pounding headache, don’t you?’

      Anya was one of only three people who could read Hero. Everyone else was kept away from knowing what she really thought, or felt.

      ‘No.’

      Anya raised one fair and perfectly shaped brow.

      ‘OK, fine.’ Hero laughed. ‘Yes, I still have it, but it is less now, I promise. Probably half of it is just dehydration.’

      ‘Let’s just go back home then,’ Anya said, her voice soft and kind.

      To Hero, that sounded like the perfect suggestion, but she knew Anya had been looking forward to this restaurant thing for ages now. Cooking and baking was sort of her thing. Not an ideal hobby when you were trying to keep your weight to a number decreed by the modelling agency. Hero had started running for longer since she and Anya had bought this flat together, and her friend demanded she be her guinea pig for each recipe she trialled in the gleaming steel and granite kitchen of their Kensington home.

      ‘No, honestly.’ Hero reached out for Anya’s hand and gave it a brief squeeze. ‘It really is going off now. I just need some water and some food and I’m sure that will take care of the rest of it. Come on.’ She moved and linked Anya’s arm through her own before tugging her along.

      ‘OK. But if it gets worse again, just let me know and we can leave.’

      Hero nodded in agreement. ‘Promise.’

      ***

      When Hero had begun modelling full-time, the world she had entered scared her and wore her down. She would sit at the castings, knowing that everyone there was analysing her, judging her, comparing her. She hated it. Finally, on a summer afternoon, she got up in the middle of one such go-see and walked out.

      Hero sat on the wall of the ornate fountain in the gardens of the location and let out a huge sigh. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Another replaced it almost immediately. If she wasn’t going to model, she had to find a job. The summer breeze blew the fountain into a mist and the fine spray was cool as it landed on her face. She closed her eyes to enjoy its soothing touch.

      ‘Hello.’

      Hero’s eyes flew open and she found herself looking up into the face of a beautiful blonde. She was of a similar age to Hero, and looked vaguely familiar.

      ‘Hello.’

      ‘Are you coming back in?’

      Hero looked warily at the door, then back at the blonde, then back at the door again.

      She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

      The blonde took a seat next to Hero and held out her hand.

      ‘I’m Anya.’

      ‘Hero. It’s nice to meet you.’ Hero’s etiquette switch engaged automatically.

      ‘What a lovely name.’

      ‘Thanks. My parents really liked Shakespeare.’ She smiled awkwardly.

      ‘It’s very romantic.’ The blonde smiled warmly again. There was an accent there, something Scandinavian, and she was the epitome of the stereotype with long, shiny, natural platinum hair, pale blue eyes and porcelain skin. Hero now remembered that she had seen her at other go-sees. That was why she looked familiar. Anya had a fantastic figure, a little curvier than Hero’s. She wore no make-up, as per the preference for castings, allowing the clients to see bone structure and skin tone. Her long legs were clad in tight jeans and a white T-shirt clung to her upper curves. Anya dug in the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a fresh pack of chewing gum. She unwrapped the outer packaging then offered the pack to Hero.

      ‘Thanks,’ Hero said and began to pull a stick out of the casing. Halfway through, she stopped. ‘You bite your nails!’ she blurted, before looking up at Anya, suddenly realising her comment had sounded like a criticism, which it hadn’t been. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—’

      Anya laughed. ‘It’s OK! I do! Terrible habit. They have to keep sticking on false ones if there’s any chance my hands are going to show in a shot. Or I have to place them where they won’t see them. It’s a bad habit but I can’t stop. I just tell myself there are worse habits to have!’ She laughed but both of them knew that the statement was true. Drug habits were rife within their world so, as a vice, nail biting was pretty damn tame.

      Hero quickly stuck out her hands in front of her, showing her own bitten nails – a connection of imperfection with her new friend in a world of false flawlessness. She laughed properly, easily, for what seemed like the first time in ages.

      Anya persuaded Hero to return to the studio, which had resulted in bookings for both of them. The encounter marked the beginning of a strong bond of friendship between the two young women. They travelled to go-sees together and eventually shared a flat, both dismissing the financially available option of each girl purchasing one separately. Anya came from a close family in Sweden and missed the company. Hero had almost no family and also missed the company. Anya kept Hero’s spirits from sinking and Hero returned the favour.

      ‘Hello, gorgeous!’ Rupert Thorne-Smith wrapped his arms around Hero from behind and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. The physical СКАЧАТЬ