Model Guy Read Online Free Page A

on a sec....what was your name
again?". Another model said something about being before someone else and having
to be away by four because she had to pick her daughter up from her boyfriend. Lauren
was also looking up from her book now. I wasn't that bothered - I had all day with
nothing else to do and the sight of a model cat fight always amuses me. But suddenly
Lauren was speaking and the others were quiet.
      "It's you next, then
you, because you agreed to let her go ahead" she said talking to another girl.
"And then you, followed by me. OK?"
      Whether that was the right
order or not, there was something about Lauren's confident tone that prohibited
any further discussion. A challenge to 'Argue with that, if you dare', seemed to
hang in the air as the other models decided slowly that it probably made sense.
Lauren went back to her book and everyone else fell silent, either satisfied or
terrified.
      Fucking hell, I thought.
Luckily my turn came before hers and I hung around afterwards, clutching my rucksack
and an A to Z, pretending that I was just in the process of leaving and, hey, gosh,
you got another casting, too? I'd also thought of mentioning something about ISAs
but I couldn't think of anything intelligent or funny to say about them. Know any
ISA jokes, anyone?
      In fact she nearly breezed
past me, so I had rush after her and catch her up.
      "Hi," I said.
      "Oh, hello,"
she said, looking slightly surprised.
      "You were just in
that casting weren't you?" I had hoped to do this a bit more subtly but I was
in for it now and so there was no turning back.
      "Oh, yes" she
said, not having to add: 'Were you? I didn't notice you.'
      "Erm, how did it
go?"
      She stopped walking and
turned to look at me properly.
      "Not bad. I don't
think I got it, though - I think I'm too English looking for the kind of girl they
were looking for. I asked the casting director which countries it's being sold to
and I think they wanted someone more American, more West Coast, sort of a Kirsten
Dunst or a Cameron Diaz."
      "Yes," I said
dumbly.
      "How about you?"
Well in my case the agency told me to go and I'd gone. That was it.
      "Erm, seemed okay,
but I don't think I got it either."
      She looked at me for a
moment. Then she said:
      "Never mind, you
always learn something about your look and the potential market for it at every
casting I think, don't you?"
      "Yes, I suppose so."
She smiled (patronisingly?) and then carried on walking. I heard myself calling
after her: "I wondered, actually, whether you'd like to go for a drink sometime?"
      She stopped again and
then slowly walked back towards me.
      "What's your name?"
she asked.
      "Erm." Oh shit,
what is my name? I thought, panic gripping me like an anaconda. "Charlie, Charlie
Barrett" I said, at last. It sounded like I'd just made it up. That was right,
wasn't it? Yeah, Charlie Barrett, that's me.
      "Thing is Charlie
Barrett, I'm booked up all this week -"
      "Ohrightnoproblemsureofcoursejustwonderednevermind,"
I spewed elegantly.
      "But I could do lunch
on Wednesday."
      "Lunch?"
      "Yeah, why not? You
do have lunch don't you?"
      "Yes I have lunch
every Wednesday," I said. It was supposed to be a joke but I'm still not sure
how it sounded.
      "Give me your number
and I'll ring you in the morning to confirm where and when," she said. I thought,
'Oh I see, that's a nice way to do it'. You won't ring, you'll accidentally lose
it and I'll be too embarrassed to mention it if we ever meet again at a casting.
Slightly despondently I gave her my number and expected nothing.

 
    But she did ring me. We went out to a little Italian restaurant
in Soho where she had fish and salad because she was on a high protein/low carb
diet. I ordered chicken kiev. I didn't particularly want it but I'd been too busy
talking to look at the menu and when the waiter came it was the first thing I saw.
      "You're not doing
any swimwear stuff at the moment," she said as I