Shy Town Girls (16 page)

“
I’m busy all day tomorrow, but I
was thinking after work tomorrow night.”

“
Sure. Whatever works for
you.”

“
Great,” Oliver smiled. “I’ll call
you.”

“
Okay!” I grabbed Lilly’s arm as we
ran toward the car. My heart was pounding, and it wasn’t just from
the exertion.

“
You were super awkward just then,”
Lilly said, looking at me laughing.

“
What? No, I wasn’t,” I said
defensively.

“
Oh yes, you were,” she
snorted.

“
Listen, you do not talk to your
boss like that. Do you understand?” I said, shutting her up. “You
need to remember you’re an intern, and—” But my authoritative tone
fell apart, and I started laughing. I just felt so happy all of a
sudden.

“
Meow!” she said.

“
Get in the car,” I commanded,
pushing her in by her head.

The next stop was the old Chicago Fire Station where
the set was reenacting the great Chicago fire. The minute we got to
the set, one of the assistants ran up to inform me that one of my
models had food poisoning.

“
Is it serious? Where is she?” I
asked. “You guys are an hour behind schedule.”

“
She’s in the bathroom,” the
assistant told me with worried eyes. Probably scared he’d be
fired.

“
Lilly,” I yelled, “Alka-Seltzer and
Pepto Bismol!” I ran to the bathroom, shoved medication down the
model’s throat, and made her drink ginger ale. I called in hair and
makeup to fix her in the bathroom and had a photographer take a few
photos, because she did look rather chic, curled around the vintage
toilet.

“
Nice work,” I encouraged her.
“You’re a true artist.”

“
Mmm...hmm,” the model nodded
miserably. The poor, frail girl stood up and dragged herself back
to the set. I overheard her telling one of the other models she was
thrilled she’d puked up everything she’d eaten the past few
days.

I stood back and watched the photo shoot, trying to
catch my breath.

“
A little tough on model-girl,
weren’t you?” A voice with a thick accent spoke from behind
me.

“
Excuse me?” I turned.

He was dressed far too casually for the high-end
style of the shoot, in khaki pants, a white button-down shirt that
hung loosely on his rock solid body, and shoes that looked like
they could’ve been made out of hemp. His hair was long, down to his
shoulders, and golden from lots of exposure to the sun. He looked
me in the eye. “The girl’s puking her cookies, and you send her
back into the fire rather than home with a cup of soup?”

“
Just trying to do my job,” I said.
Who was this guy?

“
Nah, I can respect it. Just a
little tough,” he added with a laugh, crossing his arms, watching
the photo shoot. “I’m Zander,” he said.

“
Bobbie,” I offered my
hand.

He accepted it, but said, “You Americans, so formal
with your handshake. And isn’t Bobbie a boy’s name?”

“
Bobby with a ‘y’ is a boy’s name.
I’m Bobbie with an ‘i-e.’”

“
Okay, then, American Bobbie with an
‘i-e,’” he laughed.

“
Don’t you have nicknames where you
come from? My name is actually Roberta. So, what’s your role
here?”

“
I’m the set designer, graphic
designer—well, designer in general, I guess. Fordham paid me a
boatload of money to come do this, so I thought, why not? Never
been to Chicago before, but I gotta say it’s really not my cup of
tea. Like, where’s the sun? You’ve got great eyes.”

I blushed. “As a Chi-town girl, I apologize for my
city. The weather has been absolutely lousy.”

“
Apology accepted. So, what’s there
to do in this town, anyway? Like, nightlife?” He brushed back his
hair. “Like I said, I’m not from around these parts, as if you
couldn’t tell.” He grinned at me. I was finding his accent more and
more attractive.

“
Where are you from?” I
asked.

“
New Zealand. Ever been?”

I shook my head no.

“
Ah, it’s a great place, beautiful
scenery, nice people, great beaches. You have to visit sometime,”
he smiled.

“
I’d like that. And as far as
nightlife here in Chicago, there’s an after-party tonight at
Fordham following the runway show. . .”

“
You gonna be there?”

“
I am.”

“
Great. So I’ll see you there?” he
looked at me for confirmation.

“
Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“
Great. It was great meeting you
hazel-eyed American Bobbie with an i-e. I’ll see you when the sun’s
down.” He motioned towards the set.

“
Go do your job,” I
smiled.

“
All right then,” he said and went
back to work. Lilly came up behind me, draping her arm around my
shoulder.

“
Who was that hot guy with the
accent?” she asked, bumping her hip against mine.

“
Zander, the designer, from New
Zealand,” I said.

“
Well? Did you get that hottie’s
number or what?” she asked, with a mouthful of
something.

“
What are you eating? You’re always
eating!”

“
Free miniature muffins. Hey, the
models aren’t eating them. I might as well. Want one?” She lifted
her hand, holding out three more muffins.

“
No, thank you. Where do all those
calories go? I thought you told me you didn’t use food as
anesthesia, Lilly. And here you are scarfing everything in sight,
when you’re not trying to break into the mini bar in the
car—”

“
Yeah, but that’s like, for
fun.”

“
But this is work,” I said. “I know,
I know. Work can be fun, though, you know... I do want to thank you
for your help today, Lilly,” I said. “You do at least keep things
entertaining.”

“
Aww. . . is ice cold Bobbie
Bertucci warming up to Lilly?” she said in a baby voice.

“
Why are you talking in third
person?” I asked impatiently. “Come on. We still have a lot of work
to do.”

She snorted. “Yeah, you’re all right too,” she said,
and popped another muffin in her mouth.

Everywhere I turned the night of the after-party, I
saw someone I knew. Everyone from work was there, including Lilly,
all my local models, those who had been able to fly in, and those
I’d recruited. Ivy and Ella strutted into the after-party in the
highest heels they owned. Ivy told anyone who would listen that she
was now a Fordham model. Charlie was there—but not with Alessandra.
Oliver came with his cousin Lottie, who had cleaned up pretty well
and seemed to be behaving herself. My boss Wolfe was there, of
course, and when I saw him approaching me, I thought he might be
coming over to compliment me on a job well-done. We had pulled off
the event in fine style, despite the crisis. I knew it was largely
due to my resourcefulness and energy in filling the gaps with so
many of my colleagues and friends who had generously stepped up to
help us out. But I was dreaming if I thought Wolfe had any sense of
gratitude or the ability to express such a thing as appreciation.
He merely informed me that he needed the red lace dress back.

“
Make sure it’s hanging on the rack
in the studio by 8 a.m.,” he said. “Cleaned and
pressed.”

He turned away without another word. I just glared
after him, stunned. The fact that he didn’t complain was compliment
enough for me. I couldn’t expect any more than that. I knew better,
but couldn’t help but feel underappreciated.

“
Hey, roomie,” Ella said. She
appeared at my side. “You look. . .”

“
Are you okay?” Ivy popped up
between us. “Who is that man you look like you want to throw your
drink on?”

“
That’s my
soon-to-be-ex-boss.”

“
Oh, wow—really?
Wait...ex-boss?”

“
Really. Girls, I want you to be the
first to know. I am officially giving my notice. I am going to
apply for law school.”

“
Did I just hear you say law
school?” Oliver poked his head between Ivy and Ella.

“
Yep,” I said. “It’s official. I’m
gonna do it.”

“
Well, Jesus. It’s about time,” he
said.

“
Yay!” Ivy held her glass high. “To
Bobbie Bertucci, attorney at law!”

“
Yeah, to keep you out of jail,
Ivy,” I said. “But shh, I don’t want my boss to hear. Not yet. I
have to get my ducks in a row before I can quit.”

Wolfe hadn’t heard Ivy’s toast, but Charlie did. He
actually squeezed his way into our little group. Before I realized
what was happening, he had snaked his arm around me, saying, “Oh
God, you’re not rehashing that old law school fantasy again, are
you, Bertucci?” He chuckled. “Really, I would think you’d be
embarrassed to say these things out loud. You know it’s a lot of
work and actual reading, honey. Law school is like, you know,
school.”

“
I know school and working hard
aren’t concepts you get, Charlie,” I said, staring him dead in the
eye. That silenced him, as he slinked away.

“
Wow,” Ella said. “What a charmer!
Lucky you got out when you did. He obviously can’t be happy for
other people.”

“
I wouldn’t expect him to be,” I
said. “He once told me I’d never be able to pass the LSAT, let
alone the bar.”

Ivy wrinkled her nose. “The what?”

“
Bobbie,” Ella said, “I think you’ll
make a great lawyer. You have a knack for getting the truth out of
people.”

I had expected Oliver would chime in with what he
usually said whenever I broached the subject of law school: “But of
course. It’s totally your calling, Bobbie.It’s the perfect career
for you—getting paid to argue!” But he didn’t say it this
time—because he had already wandered off. When I finally spotted
him through the crowd, he was dancing with one of the models from
the agency, a model who’d been hitting on him for months now.

Zander showed up, still underdressed, but he was so
good-looking he had no problem pulling it off. He asked me to
dance, and we had a great time, dancing, laughing and drinking
together. He was a great hit with Ivy and Ella. I really wanted to
feel a spark of connection to him.

I was hoping Oliver might ask me to dance, too, but
he had vanished. I didn’t see him the rest of night. I didn’t know
how I felt about his leaving so abruptly. I brushed it off, but
knew on some level it annoyed me. But I was over letting boys
determine how my night went. The cards were in my hands now. My
roommates were having the time of their lives, so I decided to join
them. If I had learned one thing, it was that your girl friends
were the people you could count on time and again. They were the
other pieces of my puzzle holding me together. I was thankful for
that. We stayed out to till the sun came up having a night we’d
never forget.

Chapter 16

The next evening I met Oliver at Fordham to let him
in, as he no longer had his own access. We were making our way to
the darkroom, and as we rounded a corner, I found myself trailing
behind him, taking in his broad, muscular shoulders, his tapering
back . . . He had a swimmer’s body. His legs were long and strong.
He suddenly turned around and looked at me. “I probably should have
done this in my new studio, but I figured we might as well use
Wolfe’s. . .” He grinned, and I quickly lifted my gaze to meet his,
hoping he hadn’t caught me checking him out.

When we reached the dark room, I unlocked the
door.

“
Want to see what we’ve got?” he
asked.

I nodded.

He opened the double doors, and I felt overpowered by
the smell of pungent chemicals.

“
This is it.” There was a buzzing
noise before the red lights came on. In the center of the room was
an island topped with square trays. Around the perimeter of the
room were booths with machines in them. Streams of photos clipped
to a wire hung from the ceiling.

I said in a low voice, “I feel like I’m in a horror
movie.”

“
Don’t worry babe. I’ll protect
you!”

I laughed as I slowly walked along, studying the
hanging photos of anorexic, high-end models.

“
So, what we’re doing is developing
35MM film,” he said. “First thing we do is rewind so we can take it
out of the camera.” He began furiously twisting a knob on the top
of his camera. “We’re going to develop it, hang it, then take it
into the handy-dandy private lab where we’ll use the enlarger. .
.”

As dorky as he was in that moment, it was kind of hot
watching him in his element.

“
So we can use the Patterson tank
here, which is just a little tank into which we put our 35MM reel
with our chemicals, or we can tray process. Let’s start with tray
processing.” He handed me a pair of gloves.

“
We lay the sheets carefully into
the tray, giving them a little bath like so. . . .” He slid his arm
around my waist and pulled me in front of him. “Try it,” he said. I
swallowed hard as I felt the warmth of his body against mine. He
showed me how to flip and ‘agitate’ the film.

“
There,” I said. “Agitated
enough?”

“
Definitely,” he replied.

I took a deep breath. It was getting hot in this
small room.