Curve Couture

by H. M. Irwing

  The pause that ensued after that was lengthy and had me shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

  “Let’s get some tea in first before we get into this. Shall we?” Erin offered before he signalled over a waitress, who came rushing over. Erin was simply too hot to ignore. He was more appealing than all the models out there, mouth wateringly so. It was a shame he no longer modeled.

  “What would you like?”

  The cerulean-blue eyes sparkled into mine momentarily, rendering me mute in awe. I simply hated this guy and this effect he had on me.

  “I’ll take a skinny latte with a swirl of honey,” I finally said, not breaking eye contact with him.

  “Hmm, honey,” he said, licking his lips as if in ecstasy.

  “Save it,” I snapped, not willing to go through the usual horrendous teasing and posturing that made up the industry. I didn’t think I could survive it coming from him. “I’d like to talk about my sister. I would like you to take over her account, to be her agent in all future dealings,” I blurted out, not able to handle the suspense. I needed to know his answer and then make other arrangements if need be.

  At the very least, I’d need to start job hunting in earnest—something calm, soothing, and non-toxic to my soul. A simple ideal that should be doable, even if it meant dropping to my knees and scouring grime-laden floors as a cleaning lady.

  Anything would be better than this.

  “Not interested.”

  Erin’s reply shocked me speechless. I was gobsmacked, and it showed.

  “I have no interest in signing up your sister Janice,” he repeated when I’d fallen dead silent, unable to form a single coherent thought, let alone voice it.

  “Yes, that is what I heard that first time,” I finally muttered. “But why? Everyone wants Janice. I get calls every day from all sorts of agencies wanting to steal her away from me and sign her on themselves. Why don’t you want her?”

  “She is a brat. I already have a number of those that are already minting me millions. I don’t need another, and besides, Janice’s days on the runway are numbered. Rumors have it there is a new rising starlet who will rule the runway soon. I’d rather have her sign on than your Janice,” he said a little snidely.

  I ignored the rudeness. That too came part and parcel of the job. I’d seen smooth Erin in action before, so I knew all too well that he could and often would smooth talk the socks off customers. I was rather thankful he was sparing me from that expertise. He wouldn’t require much to sell me anything. A simple smile would have had me removing my panties and offering it to him on a platter. But I reminded myself that I was here to sell to him, not have him sell to me. I had to see if I had what it took to have him remove his briefs and offer them to me on a platter.

  The very thought had me compressing an irrepressible grin from splitting my face.

  “But that’s just rumors,” I said, playing low key, for I had heard just that same thing, only my sources were reliable. “And Janice has contracts in place that would see her comfortably through for the next few years. You would only need to manage them and maybe secure a couple more new ones in between,” I insisted adamantly. The thing with Janice was that spoiled she may have been, but there were none more determined than her in getting her way. She was the master-mind behind all the contracts I organized for her. She pulled the strings; I just sealed the deals. It was Janice who informed me of her up-and-coming rival. But I was certain she had a plan already in play toward managing that. I was in a need to know only position with her plans. That suited me just fine. The less I knew, the lesser I wanted to know.

  Erin only nodded his head. “You have certainly done your sister right, but like I said, I have enough on my plate. You should take up those offers that are coming your way. Anyone of them would be happy to reap off the plum leavings of your sister,” he said, leaving me to frown unhappily at him.

  “Why are you walking away? Had enough of the bitch?” Erin queried with a raised brow before waggling them at me mockingly.

  I could only shake my head at his caustic response and laid-back attitude. If only he did know why I was leaving this plush package I had involuntarily arranged for myself, but then, suddenly, I found myself actually telling him. “I fucked her fiancé last night.”

  Then, I casually lifted my serviette to wipe off the excess liquid that dripped off my face. I should have waited for him to swallow his mouthful before I blurted out that truth.

  “I would never have guessed it of you,” he managed, finally between spurts of a coughing fit. “I thought you were the principled one. What made you do it, and with him, of all people?” he asked unabashedly. The keen interest on his face said it all.

  I burst out laughing. He was as shameless as he was relentless, and that was saying something.

  “It was unexpected. A mistake. One I wished never happened,” I finally got out between snorts of laughter.

  “Well, that’s what you get for settling for an inferior model. You should have just come to me. I would ensure you had no complaints,” he said, locking his laughing blues with my own smirking grays.

  I wish.

  I could just picture it. And what an irresistible picture it made. No way was I taking him up on his offer, and it was an offer. The kind he did not make lightly. I had it on good authority. Despite his much-questionable reputation, he did not always use his dick to do the deed. He left that for only those he considered special. I personally thought that was sweet and strangely virtuous in this really fucked up industry. I would’ve loved to be the odd few he cared enough about to share a real fuck with.

  “So why did you turn up to meet me anyway? Since you have no interest in my only client, Janice, what did you want?” I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing there had to be something he was after. He was here, after all, so he must want something. And he was never this nice. Erin had always made an effort to be nice to me, but again, never this nice.

  “I want you,” he said, leaning back against his chair. I had to wait ‘til the annoying waitress laid out our order and left.

  “For what?” I spat out finally.

  “To model, of course. I want to sign you on”—he took in my gaping stare with good grace and clarified— “as a plus sized model, of course.”

  “No shit!”

  His self-satisfied smirk was quick to emerge, startlingly bright and abysmally unwavering.

  “I am a walking, talking cliché of insecurities, and you want me to be a model? To put myself out there for the world to see?” I gaped at him before resolutely continuing, “and then emulate?” I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to emulate this. And that was the whole principle of modeling —to get the masses to follow you. Wear what you wear. Eat what you eat. Eat where you eat.

  As if the masses were that mad. I stared at him then, as if he were mad—for he had to be—lost his marbles to have suggested such a foolish proposition.

  Chapter 2

  “I cannot believe you are doing this!” screamed the last person I wanted to see right now.

  I was sitting in the waiting room, waiting to be called in for my first photoshoot. I would be put through the mill—made over and then adorned in possibly skimpy clothing before I was told to pose in various back-breaking positions. Familiar as I was with the routine, I knew I was in for Hell, and I would have to grit my teeth and smile through it all.

  Having escorted my sister for just this type of shoot countless times in the past gave me insight of what to expect. Never in all those sessions had I an inkling that I would one day be sitting in front of the camera myself. It was all a little overwhelming to contemplate. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought this was all some elaborate plan—a hoax, cooked up just to get a few laughs at my expense.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I replied blithely, hoping to convey ignorance.

  “I know I’m blonde, but you know better than to think I’m stupid,” Janice replied with her usual candor. That was the sad truth on both
counts. She was blonde and brainy. I hated that about her too. How did the old adage come up on dumb blondes anyway? All the blondes I knew were anything but, myself included.

  “You want to show me some tits, babe? Show me what you got. Shake it for me,” came the distant sounds of a photoshoot in progress.

  I stared at Janice, and she stared back at me; then, we both burst out laughing.

  In all honesty, hearing that go on behind the closed doors had me more than a little disturbed. It was the main reason I was so tense. But I knew from experience, hearing such talk meant nothing. The photographers could and would say just about anything to get the desired look on their shots. My guess was he was aiming for horny, but that was just it. What if I couldn’t do horny?

  “You’ll be fine,” Janice reassured me, correctly reading my open-as-a-book expression. “But are you sure this is what you want?”

  I wasn’t sure.

  I only knew I hated what I already did. Living off Janice was not the way I wanted to spend the rest of my life. I knew I had to do something, and as I had no skills of my own to boast of, this was the only way to go about it.

  “You are really not upset?” I needed reassurance.

  “That you slept with my fiancé, Colin?” Janice enquired mildly.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, of course, I’m not. I told you, I was not really engaged. Colin is an ass. You know I would never even grant him a second look had we not looked so good together. But we did, and us being seen together is good for business. You did me a huge favor by sleeping with him. Now, I can safely break it off and come off as the winner, with public sympathy. I’ll be more in-demand than ever. I will need you as my manager to take advantage of the offers that will be pouring in,” she reminded me of my place in the grand scheme of things.

  Janice was almost diabolical that way; she could and would turn set-backs around to suit her.

  “I need something of my own—” I started to explain, but she cut me off.

  “Yes, I gathered that, and that is why I am here—to lend you my support—and in return, you need to only continue to be my manager.”

  “But everyone would know the reason you and Colin broke up was me,” I reminded her.

  “Yes, that is the best part of the plan. You will receive your just desserts for sleeping with my fiancé. How could you anyway? I thought you didn’t even like him,” Janice murmured unaffectedly.

  “I didn’t… I don’t! It was an accident… unintentional,” I murmured vaguely. “I just didn’t want to age another year without losing my V-card. So I hadn’t protested his advances.”

  “Yes, I gathered that must have been the case. Next time you feel horny and need some relief, come and see me. I can set you up with any number of guys—better than Colin,” Janice assured me.

  “She won’t have to.”

  We both looked up to find Erin lounging carelessly against the door. How long had he been standing there? How much had he heard?

  “I’ve already told her she must come to me. I would gladly settle between her thighs and take care of her every need,” Erin volunteered with a wolfish smirk.

  I must have blushed scarlet at that, but I couldn’t tell from the loud beating that suddenly drowned out my ears. Janice lifted a cool hand to pat softly, if condescendingly, at my heated cheeks. But she need not have bothered, for his next words had me paling instead.

  “You’re next,” he reminded me, ignoring Janice’s glare as he hauled me up and gently shoved me toward the closed doors where all the primping would begin.

  A woman, delicate and frail-looking, came forward to greet me.

  “Hi, I’m Michelle, and I will be your stylist for today. This is Rafael who will do your hair and makeup. Then, we’ll get to choosing your clothes and shoes,” she said, as she led me forward to the dimly lit dressing area.

  The makeshift work bench was propped up against a brightly lit mirror. I had seen similar setups many times but never with such trepidation. I felt my heart pump on overdrive, and my cheeks started to flush pink once again.

  I turned to look at Michelle, who was dressed in an off-the-shoulder stretchy, black bodice and paired it with skinny jean cut-offs. She was herself un-accessorized and wore no apparent cosmetics. You couldn’t tell from looking at her that she knew anything at all about the industry she was working in. But I had heard of her before, and I could tell Erin had not spared anything in ensuring I had the very best team to put me to rights before I faced the blasted cameras.

  “Right! Strip. Take off all your clothes and put this on,” said Michelle, handing me a white robe.

  I knew the routine. Taking the robe, I went behind the makeshift screens and removed all my clothing. I stuffed them into the duffle bag that I had brought along and threw on the robe without looking at my reflection in the mirror first. I didn’t need reality to bite any sooner than it really had to. I emerged back out more than a little self-consciously.

  “Okay guys do your thing,” I said goofily, before promptly taking a seat in front of the mirror. It felt really odd to be quite naked with only this robe to shield me and my many bulges, before so many people. But the robe was surprisingly soft even if it was stark white and not at all fluffy.

  “Close your eyes,” Rafael instructed, before he started plucking and shaping my brow.

  Then he shaved off my upper lip and told me to visit his store on Elizabeth Street and have this done using threading techniques. After that he slapped on various creams and cleansed my skin before applying lotion, a base, concealer, foundation and powder. Then he began work on my eyes.

  “You have some brilliant shades of gray here,” he said seriously, as he applied various shades of eye shadow.

  “Let’s go for the smoky black, shall we? It will bring out the depths of your silver,” he murmured, as he continued to dab on the dusky colors. I merely grunted a response, not being sure I even knew of the silver he spoke of. My eyes had always appeared just gray when I looked into them. Perhaps it was all these strong neon lightings. I kept mute over my doubts as he finished off with black liquid eyeliner and mascara. He drew out the blush then and turned to a palette of various shades of pink and pastels.

  “Tsk, tsk, so much flesh.” Frowning disapprovingly, he shook his head at my cheeks that got in the way of his accentuating my cheek bones. “Such fine bone structure you have beneath all this,” he indicated at my abundance of flesh with a shrug of disgust.

  I didn’t blame him, for I often felt the same on looking in the mirror, which only made my being here at all beyond ridiculous.

  “Don’t mind him, luv. Rafael is a born grump. He finds flaws in everyone. You look beautiful just as you are,” said Erin, sneaking up behind us.

  I flushed red, unused to such flamboyant praise and feeling acutely naked under my wrap.

  “How are you doing her hair?” asked Erin. And before I knew it, Rafael erupted into a volley of Italian, no doubt slandering Erin’s very existence. Then, he moved on to a language I understood, “Do not even think of fucking telling me how to do my work. I will do her hair as I see fit.”

  I was shaken at this outburst, but on looking up worriedly at Erin, I saw that he only grinned down at me in return.

  “Rafael, you know I don’t mean any disrespect. You are the very best there is. That is why I have you do all my girls,” said Erin, placating Rafael but deflating me in the process.

  Of course, he would want only the best for all his girls. They were the source of his bread and butter. I was just one amongst the many—many skinnier models with visibly fine bone structures.

  “Out!” Michelle came marching back in. “You are upsetting Rafael. We have much work to do without you interfering.”

  She chased Erin out, and I felt grateful. I didn’t want Erin there, watching them transform me into the goose that laid the golden egg.

  Then, Rafael was at my hair. Pulling and prodding first, he tossed my hair every which way before finally sett
ling in on a style that suited him best, which apparently was simply to blow dry it straight.

  “Your color is fine for now, but maybe in future, we can consider some highlights,” Rafael complemented grudgingly. I only nodded my head in reply. I knew better than to actually respond.

  “Alright, we are done with the preliminaries. Now, drop the robe and let us see what we are working with,” said Rafael with a spin of my chair that had me turned to face him. Michelle moved around to close the curtains around us.

  I knew this was coming and had been avoiding that fact, but I could no longer put off the inevitable. I took several deep, calming breaths then rose to my feet. With a strategic tug, I watched in horror as my robe floated up and off my shoulders to slip onto the floor like the pool of fine silk it was not.

  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and waited for their verdict.

  The silence was deafening. I could almost hear the mythical ticks of the pendulum marking the passage of time. I fought against the urge to bend over and pick up my robe and burrow within the safety of its soft, white confines.

  It was a short but worthy battle that was lost from the start. I parted my knees wide to support my un-athletic frame as I all but keeled over to collect the fabric and drape it back over my person. The loud groan that erupted came from behind me. The instant recognition that came with it had me stumbling forward in loss of balance before an arm reached out to haul me upright.

  The fabric slipped free, and I found myself in an age-old pose of a modest Venus. Clamping a hand over my large breasts and one splayed open to cover my privates, I spun about to face Erin.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded in near hysteria, then not waiting for a reply, I snapped, “You are not supposed to be here. Get out!” I was flushed red, suffused bodily in that unbecoming color and utterly mortified.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” begun Erin, a start of a seriously pathetic attempt at an excuse. “But your sister just called me with a message for you. Can’t say I regret being her messenger boy—at least not on this occasion.” He paused with a wavering grin, his eyes shamelessly drifting down the length of me with keen interest. “You are simply stunning,” Erin murmured, his eyes glittering with a strange light I hesitated to decipher.