by Sarah Price
“Amanda,” Lucinda called from the car. “It’s best to come along now.”
Inside the large sedan, Amanda was surprised to see two men seated in the front. She didn’t ask who they were, realizing that she was giving herself completely over to these strangers who Alejandro had entrusted with her protection.
“Why are these people still so interested?” she asked innocently.
Lucinda lowered her sunglasses and peered over the top to stare at Amanda. She was studying her as if trying to assess whether Amanda has seriously asked that question. “You don’t know, do you?” she finally asked, slipping her glasses back on and turning to look out the window. “You are quite the innocent, indeed.”
Her tone upset Amanda. No one had ever spoken to her in such a condescending manner. “Perhaps if someone would explain it to me,” she said, not liking how strong her own words sounded.
Lucinda noticed it, too. With a sigh, she turned back to face Amanda. “Viper is not a typical man, Amanda. He is a star, a celebrity. That means that millions of people follow his every move. Millions.”
Amanda laughed. “Millions? Whatever for?” She couldn’t fathom so many people being interested in Alejandro.
“Millions,” Lucinda repeated. “I understand that you are rather . . . provincial . . . but you need to start understanding that you have left your world to enter his. A world where over twenty-six million people follow him on Facebook, thousands of women follow him around the world, hoping for just once to have him glance at them the way he looked at you yesterday when you arrived at the hotel.”
Amanda gasped. “What do you mean?”
“All of those photographers? They sell those photos to newspapers and magazines and television stations. They make a living off following you and capturing moments like this,” Lucinda said as she reached down for a folded newspaper. She handed it to Amanda and watched as the young woman tried to make sense of what she saw.
It was two photographs. The first was of him standing beside her at her parents’ farm, as they were getting ready to leave. Her head was bowed, and she had a slight smile on her lips. He stood behind her protectively, helping her to face the cameras as they walked to the car. The second photograph was of Alejandro reaching down for her hand to help her get out of the car when they had pulled up to the hotel. Indeed, he was watching her with a look on his face that she hadn’t noticed at the time. With his typical skewed smile and a raised eyebrow, he looked amused, but there was something else in his expression.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say,” Amanda said and pushed the paper back at Lucinda. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“No, no you did not,” Lucinda replied. “But you have what women can only dream about as they live their plain lives, envious that you have left yours. Frankly, they are fascinated that, for some reason, Viper has fallen for you.”
Fallen for you. Amanda didn’t respond. Instead, she looked out the window and watched as the buildings seemed to fly by. She remembered that day in the buggy when the crowds had finally realized that he was in her town. They had barely escaped a mob scene. The emotion of the moment and the realization that he would have to leave had left both of them breathless, embraced in what she could only remember as a kiss that expressed everything that they both felt. Then he had left her and she had to face the cameras and the reporters on her own.
But he had come back to get her.
All it had taken was that one sentence to the media. He had seen it and flown halfway around the world to get her. It wasn’t just a sense of obligation on his part. No, Amanda realized, her heart racing inside her chest. Indeed, he felt something for her and, despite her own reluctance to admit it, she had fallen for him, too. Her decision to leave the farm had not been entirely to protect her family. There had been a self-serving element to that decision.
“Oh my,” she whispered.
“Exactly,” Lucinda said, her voice a bit softer than it had been just moments ago. “Now you have to change, my dear. Perhaps not who you are, for that is what intrigues him, but your public image. You cannot be seen with the sexiest man in the world wearing . . .” She hesitated, her eyes rolling up and down as she assessed Amanda. “Amish clothing.”
“I get it,” Amanda said drily. She wasn’t certain that she cared for this Lucinda very much yet knew that she had no choice but to go along with her for now. She had agreed to do this, and at that very moment, she knew that she had nothing more to lose.
If there was anything that Amanda disliked more than helping at market on Fridays and Saturdays, she couldn’t begin to imagine what it was. Her older cousin had just had a baby and couldn’t help her husband with weekend days at the market in Maryland.
For some reason, Amanda had been volunteered to accompany her cousin’s husband and two of his siblings to Maryland twice a week for the summer, until other arrangements could be made.
It wasn’t the work that Amanda despised. No, indeed, she found the interactions with the Englischers fascinating, with their odd way of dressing and lack of manners when they spoke. It made her thankful that she was not of their world, that was for sure and certain.
What she despised was the drive. She would have to get up and leave the house at four in the morning in order to get to Maryland in time to set up for the opening at nine. The hired driver of the van would arrive exactly at five minutes past four, never a minute early or late. The drive was long and boring, too many people crammed in the van. She didn’t understand why Anna hadn’t been volunteered to go instead of her. After all, Anna was older.
When she finally mustered the courage to ask her mother why, she noticed that her mother took a deep breath, clearly disturbed that Amanda had questioned her on the matter. “Amanda,” she started. “Not that I have to explain such a thing to you, but don’t you realize that your sister is of courting age?”
Amanda frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“If your sister is going to be exposed to young men, I’d much rather they be from our own backyard than from Maryland!”
It had taken a while for Amanda to fully understand the implication. When she finally got it, she accepted the fact that she had a summer of early-morning risings on Fridays and Saturdays and never complained again.
They spent the next few hours perusing through stores at Rittenhouse Square. Amanda was amazed at the variety of shops and the myriad of small boutiques. She had never imagined such a place existed. Lucinda directed the staff, taking charge of all of the decisions. Dresses were brought out by the armload, mostly black sheath dresses that Amanda thought were just a little too short for her liking. But Lucinda insisted that she try them on, each and every one of them.
Like a child, Amanda did as she was instructed, changing from dress to dress, permitting Lucinda to examine each one she tried on with a scrupulous eye. For reasons unknown to Amanda, some dresses were rejected while others were given a nod of approval.
“Not too fancy,” Lucinda scolded the woman at the Nicole Miller store. “And don’t bring me red again. Too bright and seductive!”
“How’s this one?” Amanda asked as she emerged from the dressing room.
“Dear, you need to take off the white hat.”
Amanda frowned. She didn’t like the way the woman said that. “It’s a prayer kapp, not a hat.”
“It needs to go.”
“Nee.”
From her reaction, it was clear that Lucinda was not used to hearing that word. She stood up and walked over to Amanda. Circling her, like a predator surrounding its prey, Lucinda examined Amanda, every inch of her. “This dress is perfect for you. Subtle and sleek, with a hint of sophistication,” she said. “But, you wear a prayer cap, and you ruin the image.” The way she said the word kapp made it sound like a dirty word. “It must go.”
“I’m Amish,” Amanda insisted.
“But I can assure you that I am also aware that you are Amish only by birth, not by baptism. Take it off.” She started to walk away but paused, glancing over her shoulder. “They will put it in a box for you, Amanda. Give it to the saleswoman.”
The next stop was at Burberry. More black dresses, thankfully some that came down to her knees. One dress was white, pure and brilliant white. It was tailored and flared out at the waist. Amanda stared at herself in the mirror, shocked at the color against her skin. The only time she had worn white had been on Church Sunday when she wore her white apron and bib, so carefully starched and ironed, but never had she worn anything that revealed the curves of her waist and hips.
The final purchase at Burberry was a long black trench coat. Amanda glanced at the price tag, gasping to see that it was almost $2,000. Clearly, she thought, that must be a mistake.
“Lucinda,” she whispered as she handed the coat to her. “Did you see this?” Amanda pointed to the price tag.
“What about it?”
“That’s so much money!”
Lucinda laughed. “Oh, you are so provincial.” Reaching out to the salesperson, Lucinda nodded toward the register. “We’ll take this one, too.”
When it came time for accessories and shoes, Amanda almost cried. Lucinda insisted on heels, forcing Amanda to practice walking in the shoes, despite her own resistance. The shoes felt awkward, as though she was walking on her tippy-toes and was going to plummet forward at any given moment. Her calves felt on fire, and the tips of the shoes pinched her toes.
“I can’t wear these,” she pleaded with Lucinda. “Please don’t make me do it.”
Rolling her eyes, Lucinda waved her fingers, indicating that Amanda must continue practicing. “You cannot wear flat black shoes from Walmart with dresses worth twenty thousand dollars, Amanda. Let’s be reasonable!”
Twenty thousand? Amanda stopped walking and turned away from Lucinda. The tears flooded her eyes, something she definitely did not want Lucinda to see. Had it truly only been twenty-four hours since she had left the farm? Was there to be no time to adjust? Just complete immersion into this new, strange world? Despite her trying to hide them, the tears began to fall down her cheeks, and she stopped walking, pausing to cover her face with her hands.
“Now what?” Lucinda snapped. She approached Amanda and saw the glistening tears on her cheeks. “You can’t cry. It will make your skin blotchy! That will be horrible for photographs!”
Amanda turned again so that her back was to Lucinda.
“OK then, we’ll get shoes that are not quite so high. Just stop crying,” Lucinda sighed and called out for the salesclerk to bring more shoes but different ones. An hour later, they left the Coach store with plain boots, the compromised high heels, and one pair of open-toed glitter shoes that she could wear with the Burberry dress at any fancy dinner.
It was three o’clock when they returned to the hotel. Lucinda accompanied her to the room, pausing at the concierge’s desk to request a new key for Amanda, and after the bellboy brought up the purchases, she instructed Amanda how to care for them. Each item was carefully hung up in the closet, paired with matching shoes.
Before she left, she handed a small bag to Amanda. “Alejandro will be taking you out to dinner tonight. Reservations made for seven thirty. I suggest the Nicole Miller sheath with the angel sleeves. And since the weather is nice, you don’t need stockings, but you will, certainly, need what’s in here.”
And then she was gone.
No parting words. No warmth. Her job was done, and Lucinda needed to return to New York City. It was too obvious that “provincial” did not quite appeal to Lucinda, a woman from Manhattan who shopped on Fifth Avenue and dealt with far more sophisticated women than Amanda would ever aspire to be. Her displeasure in Alejandro’s selection of a woman to accompany him on his West Coast tour was clearly evident. But it wasn’t her job to approve or disprove. Just to make over the image of Amanda.
Once again, she was alone. She stared at the closed door, feeling a wave of fear wash over her. She had four hours until Alejandro would be back.
She opened the bag she was still holding in her hands and peered inside. There were several smaller bags that contained Chanel makeup, Angel perfume, and Oribe hair products. One bag contained a razor and other small toiletries. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, she stared at the contents and felt dizzy. She had to shut her eyes and concentrate on her breathing.
I can survive anything.
The words echoed in her head. Had she truly said that to Alejandro just last month, the day that he had finally left the farm?
I want to experience more.
Well, she scolded herself. You may get more experiences than you ever bargained for, Amanda.
She didn’t know how to approach this evening, didn’t know what Alejandro expected. After what Lucinda had told her earlier that day and the realization that this was not all innocent, she felt herself in a panic, as if trapped in a cage with no way out. She had nowhere to go, and deep down, she wasn’t certain that she wanted to go anywhere, anyway! The conflict of emotions battled within her and she felt torn.
The phone rang and she jumped, startled from her turmoil of thoughts. She hurried over to it and lifted the receiver. “Hello?”
“Viper asks that you turn on the television to channel 6,” a male voice said.
She looked around the room. Television? She hadn’t even noticed one in the room. “Is there a television?”
A chuckle. “Open the doors to the armoire, if there is one.” A hesitation. “A big chest,” he clarified.
She found a large chest in the corner, and when she opened the doors, she saw a large flat-screen television. “Oh!”
“You found it, yes?” Another chuckle. “Now turn it on. There should be a button either in the front or on the right-hand side of the panel.” She did as she was instructed, and when the screen flashed and moving pictures began to dance on it, she gasped. “Good, good,” the voice soothed. “Now look for the channel button and click six.”
She searched for the button and finally found one that had “CH” next to it. Afraid that she might break the television, she pressed the button once. The number 4 displayed on the screen. She pressed the same button twice more and saw it change to 5 and then 6. “I think I did it,” she said, amazed that she had just done something so technically challenging. “Why am I watching this?”
The man laughed. “You’ll see. Enjoy.” Another hesitation. “And Viper will be back at the hotel for you at seven.” Then the receiver went dead.
Amanda stood there, the phone in her hand as she stared at the moving pictures on the screen. Bright colors, music, voices, words. She was amazed and horrified at the same time. The sins of worldliness, she thought. “Oh my,” she whispered and gently placed the phone receiver back in the cradle. She took a few steps back and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the television, mesmerized.
And then she saw him.
Alejandro.
There was a woman in a green shirt with black slacks seated in a tall chair. Alejandro was seated next to her. He wasn’t wearing the same clothing as he had been earlier that morning. Gone was the suit. Instead, he had on tan slacks with a crisp pleat down each leg and a white long-sleeve shirt, over which he wore a darker brown jacket. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, and she could see the necklace of Santa Barbara that he wore.
He looked relaxed. And happy.
“Viper, I understand that you just flew in from Los Angeles the other day but are heading back there tomorrow for your West Coast tour,” the woman said. Her legs were crossed at the knee and she wore tall black heels. Amanda had a hard time imagining how anyone could wal
k in such high shoes.
“Sí, it was unexpected, but I’m always glad to visit Pennsylvania. ¡Mi gente!” He laughed, his eyes sparkling and the woman looking quite pleased with his jovial mood. There must have been other people watching the interview, as Amanda heard people cheering in the background and applauding. She realized that he was being interviewed in front of an audience.
“You recently spent quite a bit of time here in Lancaster County, isn’t that so?”
He nodded. “I did, sí. I spent some time with a very special young woman and her family in Lancaster.”
Amanda’s heart froze in her chest. Was he actually going to talk about her? Them? On television?
Give them what they want, he’d told her earlier that morning. Clearly, that was his plan.
“And now?”
“Well,” he said, shifting his weight in the chair as if uncomfortable with the question or not knowing how to respond. He chuckled and tugged at his shirtsleeve. “I’ll be flying back tomorrow with a little bit of Pennsylvania with me,” he finally said, his tone light and happy.
The interviewer laughed. “What happened to ‘single, bilingual, and ready to mingle’?”
“I’m still bilingual,” he teased.
“But not so single or ready to mingle?”
“Aw, you remember that?” He laughed and lifted his finger to rub above his lip. The audience laughed with him, devouring his every word.
“You didn’t answer the question, Viper,” the interviewer teased, wagging a finger at him in a mock reprimand.
“Let’s just say that I’m ready for my next few tour stops. I love the West Coast,” he said, diverting her question but smiling into the camera and winking.
