How important ARE looks?

Shel knows why she got this job and is ok with it most of the time. It makes sense that a place like this isn’t going to want some babe at the front desk. For one thing, anyone with any looks at all is going to start getting ideas and who needs the turnover? She hands a clipboard with all the agency’s forms to the mother of yet another coltish girl as three of this month’s most booked properties swan in for their schedules. They glide through the double doors to what too many young women in New York consider some kind of pinnacle.

This isn’t a bad job at all. Shel feels lucky to have gotten it. It’s certainly much more interesting than managing that podiatrist’s office and the view is fabulous. But being around these entitled creatures all day does get to her sometimes. She wonders if she should be concerned about how often she’s stopping for a couple of shots after work these days. And how about avoiding mirrors, hmmm?

That she’s not telling any of this to Aunt Bax is probably a red flag in and of itself. But Aunt Bax has had it in for this job from day one and Shel is not giving her aunt any more ammunition than she already has. It was Aunt Bax who got her in the back door of Manhattan, introducing her to people, putting in a good word here and there. She got her apartment through a connection of Aunt Bax’s down in Gravesend. Even so, Shel knows where to draw lines with that stubborn old lady.

Her phone flashes and there’s Jerry, texting to see if he can bring her anything. Sometimes she says yes, just for the entertainment of seeing him trip all over himself when the lovelies walk through. He’s not a bad sort, but Shel doesn’t kid herself. This is a guy who wouldn’t have given her the time of day if he hadn’t found out she is essentially the door whore for the biggest modeling agency in town.

She ignores him for the moment.

To be fair, not all the girls here are bitches. There are some really sweet kids who seem to have gotten caught up in something they can’t quite figure out. And the big boss, Ms. Chaney, can be pretty damned funny. Not that many of the girls are ever going to see that.

“Shel, are the March bookings posted? You copied the new guy on it, too, right?”

“Sure did.” Shel double checks. Oh good, they are. Shel wonders how long it’s going to be before she feels like she’s got this thing down. She’s been here a year and a half and she’s still waiting for someone to hand her a box for her things and show her out. Some nights, she still dreams about being suspended over an abyss of unemployment and being poked at by tall, skinny women with expressionless masks for faces.

The door opens and Shel readies herself for the next supplicant. She’s not at all prepared for the radiant child who smiles like a Buddha and introduces herself as Moira Abelson. She’s been sent up by Anderson and shyly hands Shel her card. Anderson is old school, still scouting the Port Authority, Penn Station, subways and brunch joints, handing out his card and chatting up what he smells to be the next hot property.

As she’s getting Moira sorted out with the various forms and releases, Alyssa (one name) appears and says that she’ll see Ms. Chaney, thank you very much. Shel smiles and reaches for the phone. Alyssa frowns but waits. A month ago, she’d have just sailed on past Shel but there was that little incident in Monaco. Shel probably shouldn’t enjoy that so much but she’s only human.

Alyssa has a seat and Shel motions Moira to follow her. This is going to be interesting, she thinks, positioning herself to momentarily block Ms. Chaney’s view of the new girl. She’s still not sure when to bring a new potential prospect directly in to Chaney but this one’s easy. Shel remembers what it was like the one time she bowled a perfect game, how every time the ball left her hand she could see a golden path down the lane and knew without question that every pin was going down. That’s how it feels to see Chaney’s expression when she gets her first good look at this Moira kid. Yeah, Alyssa honey, get comfortable. You aren’t going anywhere soon.

Alyssa begins heaving deep sighs and throwing sinister looks at Shel. Morgan, the new guy, comes through with some press releases. He shoots Alyssa a look and goes back to his office. For every girl who has scaled the heights and found herself on that massive billboard down on Houston, there are a thousand Alyssa’s who thought that was within reach and a million others who would be happy to wind up doing fit modeling at Barney’s. Shel thought she knew how brutal the world was during that last bout of being without work, but what she watches happening here to the glossy hopes of countless young women is breathtaking and kind of sickening.

After two hours, Ms. Chaney emerges with a slightly dazed-looking Moira. Alyssa is long gone having finally gotten the message.

“Shel, get Moira signed up for exclusive representation and get Antonella’s on the phone. Moira, you’re due here first thing tomorrow for a shoot. Shel, tell Xavier to clear his schedule. Tell him he’ll thank me.” Ms. Chaney hadn’t been this light on air in months.

She pauses and turns back, “Oh, and let’s go with Moira Masters. Abelson just doesn’t ring, does it now?”

And off she goes, practically whistling. Shel looks over at Moira. The girl’s eyes sparkle and she almost giggles. The door closes and then she does giggle like a seven year old. So does Shel. After being complicit by association in the downfall of a thousand other hopefuls, it’s intoxicating to be in at the beginning of a fabulous skyrocketing. Shel makes the call, having fun dealing with Xavier Antonella’s temperamental front desk, and setting up the shoot.

“Ok, then.” She quickly lets Ms. Chaney know that the shoot is on and then pulls up a catalog’s worth of forms, releases and the eighteen-page contract. She drops her voice, “You probably better get yourself a lawyer and have him go over this but we can get everything started today. It’s not as if they’re looking to rip you off or anything but you need to know what you’re signing on for here.”

“Oh, darlin’, I’ve got one believe you me. Let’s get to work!” Moira gives the impression of being delicate and Dresden but, as she crosses her legs, Shel realizes that she is surprisingly sure of herself. The curly, glossy black black hair, smooth white skin and wide greenish eyes have probably duped any number of people (men) into underestimating this young woman. Shel doesn’t argue.

This kid will be fine.

By Remington Write

Website: https://anomalyworksnyc.blogspot.com/