Modelling

story continues from part three Chapter 4: Rubicon “Won’t Leigh be mad at you?” asked Anna, eyes teasing where they held Michael’s over the rim of her martini glass. “She’ll pretend to be, I imagine,” he replied, sliding his own glass back and forth through the halo of its condensate on the hardwood table. One Eyed Jack’s wasn’t a bar that either of them frequented, being further uptown than Michael usually ventured, and far enough off campus that Anna rarely bothered to make the trip. Which made it perfect for the purposes of this quasi-illicit rendezvous. Neither one of them was liable to run into anyone who recognized them. ...

story continues from part two Chapter 3: Surrender Thursday evening, Anna staggered through the door of her apartment. Dropping her book satchel by the dresser, she flopped face first onto her bed. After a moment she swept her arms across the rumpled covers, gathering them into a mounded pillow for her head. Hooking her toes on the back strap of her sneakers, she kicked off her right, then her left shoe, wiggling her toes in relief. It had been one of those days. ...

story continues from part one Part 2: The Addiction Anna stood alone in the elevator again, waiting nervously as it climbed quietly into the tower. She carried with her the plain manila envelope that contained the glossy print Leigh had given her from her first photo shoot. She couldn’t count the times during the intervening week that she’d retrieved it from beneath her bed, sliding out the image and staring at it in wonder. She still had trouble believing that it was her in that picture, that Leigh had drawn such emotion from her and that Tula had captured it on film. ...

Part One: The Spiderweb The chrome and glass elevator purred higher into the tower that housed the Ramses Corporation, its sole occupant fidgeting quietly. Anna stared at the image mirrored in the polished glass in front of her. At twenty-one, she cut a tall, willowy silhouette. Mostly thanks to her mother’s genetics, but complemented by her participation in three years of varsity volleyball. The workouts left her with toned, muscled thighs, and a firm, sculpted butt. Luckily, the generous curves of her hips were balanced in equal measure by a full D-cup bust. In all, Anna knew she was the only one who found any fault in her looks. This self-doubt manifested itself as an unflattering style, clothes cut for comfort and concealment rather than to emphasize her luxurious curves. She wore her blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, with no makeup other than the blush left by her lip gloss. Ordinarily, Anna’s style didn’t bother her at all. It was only at times like this, when confronted by the sleek and chic of the corporate elite, that Anna felt embarrassed about her plain and somewhat dumpy outfits. ...