AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Paulo smiles, and I feel at ease with him at once. He leads me into a crowded changing room lined with mirrors. Stylists hover and whirl around tall models with diva-like poise.
Snapping his fingers, Paulo calls a hair stylist and a makeup artist. “We don’t have much to do,” he tells them. “Ella is beautiful already.” He steers me to a dress rack. “We’ll highlight your natural look.” He beckons a tall, pencil thin man with sculpted waves of golden blond. “Marco. Red satin Manolo Blahnik pumps.” He looks at my feet, “What size do you wear, Ella? About a six?”
“Yes. I’m a six.”
He smiles and puts a hand on my arm. “Bring me the blue strappy sandals, too.”
When Paulo and his crew of stylists are done with me, I feel like a million dollars. I hardly got a look in the mirrors, but the red silk Stella McCartney dress makes me feel like I look like a movie star. They put sparkle in my hair and on my cheeks, and the sandals are to die for.
I’ve been watching the models. Seeing how they strut like the world belongs to them.
“Paulo, I don’t have the pizzazz for this. I can’t carry it off.”
He smiles. “I’ve watched you. Believe me, you can.”
While the stylist makes a finishing primp of my hair, Paulo leans his mouth to my ear. “I’ll tell you the one secret all supermodels have. It’s not the clothes that look great, it’s their attitude. They take a skirt, a jacket, anything, and they wear it like they’re prowling for something to fuck.”
I burst out laughing. I twirl. Paulo claps. The dress makes me feel ten feet tall and like I can float on air.
Paulo sprays a mist at me. “Hermès. Unique. Perfect for you.” The scent makes me straighten and stand tall. I’m ready for anything.
The double doors at the far end crack open. Music and a splatter of applause follows two models into the room. They’re laughing and still shaking their shoulders, bringing the music.
As the doors swing closed behind them, a pair of sapphire eyes gleam and lock on mine. I feel the burn of arrogance. My breath catches.
Chapter Six
Ram
I watch the show as it rises to the climax from behind the black drape at the back of the stage. Right on the exotic, slinky beats, supermodels strut and stride, throwing angular poses and slashing razor-sharp stares across the crowd. Synchronized events all over the world beam in video and holograms. London, Paris, Seoul, Tokyo, New York, Milan, Rio de Janeiro, San Francisco, Montreal and Moscow are all linked into the launch.
At the height of the performance, I will step out and walk to the podium. Marina will bring me a red envelope, I will make the announcement and trigger the revelation. Marina gave me the hook lines about twenty minutes ago. Her bringing out the red envelope is pure theater.
The lines are great. They hit the product values and convey the exact message I want. When I saw them I grabbed my laptop, trashed the graphic presentation and made a new one, using all of the hooks.
This launch is going to be a triumph. After this, every major, ground-breaking new product will have this moment to live up to.
At the peak, I’ll stand center stage, behind the narrow podium. In the spotlights. In command.
And I’m still thinking about that girl. The girl who huddled in her thin coat at the side door was in the models’ dressing room. The red silk dress could have been made for her. Just by breathing in it, she transformed the fabric into an erotic dream.
The moment is coming. I need to focus. And all I can think about is that silk, wrapped around her soft curves. About her turning, making it rise and flow. About how her body must feel under the soft sheath. Her hair. Her scent. Her heat.
She’s dancing all over my concentration. I can’t think straight. I should have her ejected from the building.
I take slow breaths. Relax into the moment. Let the music and the buzz in the crowd seep through me. Focus. Eyes on the prize, Ram.
The moment arrives. I wait, time my move on a perfect beat.
I step out. Feel the tension in the room rise. Lights are bright and hot. I can hardly see into the crowd. But I relax. I’ve prepared for this. I move, easy, peer like a hunter. Step to the front and center. Look down.
All around the world, the music will stop. Part like waves, leaving the space for me.
I look up. My eyes are dazzled, but I keep my face relaxed. All I can see is dark shapes, but I pick a point to focus on. As I deliver the speech to the world, I’ll be speaking to one listener. That’s how great speakers make everyone feel like the speech is directly to them. For them. About them.
I say, “This is not about a phone.”
I raise a finger, and the video presentation starts. From the side of the stage, to my left, Marina will step out. I don’t look, but I see her. In the periphery of my vision, I see that Marina has changed into red.
