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“So it’s like this?” Darcy asked cautiously, as she held up the eyeliner crayon to her lower lid. Cyn watched Darcy follow the make-up application instruction she’d given. The girl’s gorgeous amber eyes would be even more beautiful accented with green.
“You’ve got it,” Cyn said, smiling in amusement.
The two of them had been together all afternoon while Fallon was out on some kind of ‘business’ Cyn could only assume pertained to her eventual homecoming.
“What’s this for?” Darcy asked, as she dug through Cyn’s gold leather make-up bag.
She was holding up an eyelash curler, dangling it by one finger and gazing at it with interest. Cyn couldn’t help herself...she burst out laughing.
“Stop laughing. What is it?” Darcy said, dropping the curler and looking at it like it might bite her.
“Sorry, I can’t help it. It’s for curling your lashes,” Cyn said, choking on her giggles. She picked it up from the ground and demonstrated, holding it a few inches away from her eyes so Darcy could see the angle. “It makes mascara look even better, like you’ve got on falsies.”
Darcy cocked her head. “Falsies? What’re those?”
Cyn shook her head, still chuckling.
“False eyelashes. They look better in pictures,” she said, trying to explain as she put the eyelash curler back in the bag. She was immensely grateful she carried a make-up bag in her purse. “I usually wear them on a shoot, but they can irritate your eyes if you’re not careful.”
“That’s funny,” she said slowly, before shaking her head. “Your world is full of really strange things.”
Cyn gaped. “My world is full of strange things? Your world is bloody barmy!”
Darcy blinked, before shrugging and giving Cyn a smile. “At least we don’t glue false eyelashes on when we’ve already got them. And that thing is like some sort of ocular torture device.” She gestured toward the eyelash curler.
“Fine, you’re right. Not that your lot need any bloody help in the beauty department,” she grumbled under her breath.
A breeze wafted through the room, and Cyn closed her eyes, enjoying the calm and quiet. It was as different from London as it could possibly be. She was actually enjoying being marooned here. Well, not enjoying. But it is refreshing. Opening her eyes, she saw Darcy going through the contents of her purse again, picking up her mobile and staring at it with wide eyes. She couldn’t believe how much she liked spending time with the girl. With a pang, Cyn realized she would miss her. Cyn didn’t have any younger brothers, and always thought a lot of younger children were incredibly bratty. But Darcy was so bloody intelligent, it was impossible not to like her.
And it wasn’t only Darcy she fancied. While at first, Cyn despaired the thought of no mobile service, she’d come to appreciate the silence. She was no longer compelled to whip out her phone twenty times a day, checking eagerly for clever social media updates. She’d worried about her friends being unable to reach her, but a few days in, it was glorious to be unreachable. Instead of worrying she might be missing out, she was more relaxed and happier than ever. This is what solitude must feel like, she’d thought during an introspective moment. And for Cyn, it was a complete novelty. She was truly unplugged for the first time in her life, and was beginning to relish the simple pleasures it could bring. There were many more outdoor walks and casual lunches like the one she’d enjoyed with Fallon. Well, maybe not exactly like that one. She blushed at the memory of his touch, his kisses, his thorough and tender lovemaking. It was the way he looked at her. Cyn always had admirers, but Fallon made her feel like the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He listened, and he was beyond patient. He tried to take her needs into consideration, and yet there was still so much she didn’t know about him.
A lump formed in Cyn’s throat at the thought of leaving him and all of this peace. She was confused. She wanted to go home. She loved her life in London, her friendships with Felicity and Nathan, and her modelling career. Cyn had worked so hard to get there, and it would be such a shame to give it up now. So why was she having these feelings? Cyn swallowed hard, hearing Fallon’s voice float up from the courtyard. Oh, God. I bloody well fell in love. She tried shaking her head to clear the thoughts, as she watched Darcy play with her phone. Her phone! That was it... she’d forgotten to ask Felicity to check in with her agent. How could I have been so dim? Cyn thought, setting her mouth in a thin line. He’s a pain in the arse, but worlds above the last one. Her jaw clenched at the memory of her last agent.
“Hold still,” he says, reaching toward her chest. “You’ve got a loose thread on this one.” His fingers rub against the front of her chemise, brushing against her nipple. She squirms away in discomfort. They’re in her dressing room, after hours, and with a pang she realizes that she’s probably alone with him in the building.
“Are you sure?” she asks, voice unsteady. “I don’t see anything.”
She steps back, creating distance between him and her body. The chemise suddenly feels even more revealing than it was designed to be. Gooseflesh pimples her body, and her heart is thudding in fear.
“You missed it.” He laughs, reaching toward her breasts again. “Come on, let me have a little feel of what’s so hot right now.” His fingers brush against the silky fabric barely covering her skin. “I gotta know what young blokes find so appealing about you.”
She twists away, backing into the corner of the dressing room. “No! Leave me alone!”
She’s frightened, and her blood is pulsing hot and loud in her ears. She wonders how long it would take anyone to hear her cry for help, and thinks about the embarrassment of being caught screaming at her agent.
“Knock it off, love, let me just have a feel.” He tries again, reaching for her ample chest. In fear and panic, she swats him away, yelping. Her agent laughs and sneers, mocking her discomfort. “Don’t be shy with me, I know how you models are,” he says in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Stop being so bloody coy. You know you want this.”
Tears threaten to spring unbidden from her eyes, and she blinks furiously. “Get out of my fucking dressing room,” she says, but her voice is hollow and scared.
No matter if she loses him as an agent, it’s not worth sacrificing her dignity and self-respect. Un-fucking-professional prick.
“I could,” he snarls. “But then you’d have to worry about finding your own work from now on.”
A chill washes over her. She gulps, afraid. “What d’you mean?” Her voice is shaky, and she dreads his answer.
“Because then I’d have to drop you.” He flashes a cold smile, showing a row of yellow teeth. “So this is really in your best interest, if you know what’s good for your career.”
“I’m not going to take this bollocks from you.” She crosses her arms, staring at him defiantly. “You can’t drop me, because I’m firing you. Get the fuck out. Now!”
He almost looks chastened, and turns to leave. She feels relief wash over her in a cool wave of adrenaline, but her heart still pounds from the encounter. When he’s almost to the door, he turns on his heel, glaring at her. She waits in agony, bracing herself for his inevitable barrage of insults.
“Good luck replacing me,” he says with a sneer, his hand on the dressing-room door. “You’re such a fat cow that no one will work with you. You should feel complimented. I bet no one else has wanted to touch you in years.”
He leaves in a huff, the door swinging wide behind him. She blinks, and hot tears finally escape and run down her cheeks. Cyn leans against the wall for support. She’s alone, vulnerable, afraid, and now she’s agentless.
Cyn opened her eyes, eager to bury the memory. She hated remembering—it was one of the most painful times from early in her career. Not to mention ex-boyfriends who’d cheated on her back in university. Cyn was loads of laughs, but they left for skinnier little trollops and usually insulted her weight on the way out the door. It was so much better to be unattached. When you didn’t have a boyfriend, no one could make you feel bad about yourself. Well, not unless you let them, and Cyn was really good at pretending she didn’t care.
Part of the enjoyment of a one-night stand was the thrill of the chase. All of the attention from men desperate to speak with her made her forget about the stupid assholes who’d put her down. She was curvy. Love the curves or don’t. It was a powerful feeling, and she liked being in charge. Men always wanted to say they’d slept with a model, and Cyn knew most of them would eliminate ‘plus size’ from their boasting. It was too predictable. They all wanted the same thing, but no one would admit it. So she had fun. She dated casually—never more than a few times, and never more than once per month with the same bloke. It worked for her. She hadn’t fallen in love. She hadn’t gotten her heart broken, and there were no more violent confrontations with sleazy men. But at what cost. She rubbed her arms and suddenly felt so unsure of herself.
There was a knock at the door. Cyn and Darcy cocked their heads and got to their feet.
“Come in,” Darcy said, straightening her tunic.
The heavy wooden chamber door swung open and Fallon strode in, holding a small package wrapped in brown paper. He smiled at both of them, his gaze lingering on Cyn.
“Would you mind taking a walk with me?”
