Muse. Sommer Marsden

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      ‘A ghost of my much younger self,’ she retorted before she could stop herself.

      Cheryl raised an eyebrow. ‘Explain.’

      ‘I’m going to be doing some modelling. Starting tonight.’

      ‘Oooooh,’ Cheryl drawled. ‘Spill.’

      ‘An old friend from my neighbourhood when I was growing up …’ It took some effort to swallow the lettuce she’d been chewing. ‘He’s an art teacher. And he needed a model. I ran into Chris the other day while I was out with my mom. He proposed I do the modelling. To shake things up a bit. I was telling my tale of marital woe and dating horrors.’

      ‘Nice. Naked modelling. Go, you.’

      ‘You don’t think it’s weird?’

      Cheryl shook her head. She cut off a piece of turkey breast and before putting it in her mouth said, ‘Sweetie, one woman’s weird is another woman’s freedom. Not to sound too hippy-dippy but—’

      Dani couldn’t help but cut her off with a laugh. Cheryl wore her generic scrubs to work every day but when she wasn’t working she was in hand-tie-dyed yoga pants, long broomstick skirts, festive colourful tunics, Birkenstocks and Buddhist beads. She was like Superman. A mild-mannered physicians’ assistant in the office, a colourful wild child outside of it.

      ‘Sorry,’ Dani said.

      Cheryl winked at her. ‘I know. I am hippy-dippy. You have to do what’s right for you. Screw everyone else. If this calls to you, I say, do it. Shuck your clothes, strut your stuff, have an affair or three.’

      ‘What?’ Dani yelped. She pushed her salad away. Her appetite had fled.

      ‘Well, if you’re going to be standing up there naked you might as well do something about it.’

      ‘That wasn’t my intention. Breaking out of my rut was my intention.’

      Eyes twinkling like some fairy godmother with an evil plan, Cheryl said, ‘What better way to break out of your rut than with some hot, sweaty, string-free sex?’

      ‘I …’ Dani didn’t know what to say. She just shook her head.

      ‘I know you’re not really looking to date. And you’re definitely not looking for a relationship right now. But who said you have to have either in order to have some fun?’

      ‘I’m terrified,’ Dani admitted.

      ‘So,’ Cheryl pointed her fork at Dani’s discarded meal. ‘Is this why the rabbit food?’

      ‘Mostly because food is repugnant. I’m a ball of anxiety.’

      Cheryl waved a hand. ‘Don’t be. Girl, you’re built like a brick shithouse. Sorry. That’s crude, but it’s what my grandmother would have said.’ She chuckled.

      ‘I’m not skinny,’ Dani said softly.

      ‘So? Have you ever seen art? I mean real art? Most of those women are not skinny. They’re lush. They’re curvy. They’re spectacular! And so are you.’

      ‘But magazines, TV, media—’ Dani said, not finishing the sentence.

      ‘Are all full of shit,’ Cheryl said, finishing where Dani had left off. ‘Look, this is art. That’s advertising. How else are they going to sell us their potions and products if they don’t tell us we’re not good enough? You’re not flawed, baby. You’re an amazing, gorgeous, real woman. I say, go for it. And if you get a chance at some eye-rolling, body-melting, mind-warping sex … go for that too.’

      ‘I hadn’t even thought of that.’

      ‘Of course not. That’s what I’m for,’ Cheryl said. She checked her watch. ‘Eat up. We’re back on the clock in ten. And you have a big night ahead of you as a muse. You need your strength.’ She pushed the chef salad back in front of Dani.

      Dani did her best, eating as much as she could. She was fine. She was perfect. She was exactly what she was meant to be. New things often threw her off the rails. She’d just breathe and go with it.

      * * *

      She got a text at five that simply said: See you in an hour J from Christopher.

      ‘Yes,’ she muttered. ‘Yes, you will. All of me.’

      Dani wasn’t dumb. She’d subconsciously chosen a very modest outfit to wear to go to the college. Leggings and a form-fitting white tunic overlaid with another flowing oatmeal-coloured tunic. A long necklace, ankle boots, her hair down free, which would probably be a mistake. When she got nervous she played with it. Obsessively.

      She punched Cheryl’s number in and her friend answered on the third ring. ‘There’s the model!’

      ‘Ugh,’ Dani said. ‘What am I going to do? I think they’ll have me wear my hair down. How am I going to stand still? How am I going to not fidget? You know I’m a fidgeter!’

      ‘Yes, you are. When you’re stressed at work and in the zone, that leg of yours goes up and down like you’re spurring on some invisible horse.’

      Dani moaned and Cheryl laughed. ‘What if I have to pee?’

      ‘Then tell your old friend you have to pee. Like the book says, everyone pees. OK, it’s everyone poops, but same concept.’

      ‘This was a stupid idea.’

      ‘Hush,’ Cheryl said, a bit roughly. Dani took a deep breath and stopped her melodramatics. ‘You just have to be Zen. Breathe. Deep breaths, long exhales. You’ll get into a zone. You will be fine. I have utter faith in you.’

      ‘That makes one of us.’

      ‘Did you at least eat something so you don’t pass out?’

      ‘I had a smoothie.’

      ‘Well, there, that’s plenty.’ The sarcasm in Cheryl’s voice was thick enough to cut with a knife.

      ‘It was a protein smoothie.’

      ‘Better but still …’

      ‘I cannot eat. I’ll vomit. I’ll die. I’ll …’

      ‘You’ll snap out of it and go do this thing. Look,’ Cheryl said on a sigh, ‘you wouldn’t have had the instinct to say yes if this wasn’t something you wanted. Now the trick is to own it. You’re talking yourself out of it. Instead of should-ing all over yourself you’re shouldn’t-ing all over yourself. Knock it off.’

      ‘Shouldn’t-ing?’

      ‘Yeah. You’re giving yourself every reason in the world not to do it. Flip it around. Give yourself every reason in the world to go through with it. Why’d you say yes in the first place?’

      ‘Because it’s something I’ve never done.’

      ‘And?’

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