Page 32 of Beauty and the Beard

“We did. And I trusted him, Roman. Fuck, I didn’t question his motives a single time. But I told you Leaf was a widower, right? I think he understands my hang-ups because of that. He shared about his husband, too.”

“This all sounds great. But what are you worried about?”

“I only have another fourteen days here.” Gulping hard, I know it will pass far too quickly. “In fourteen days, I won’t get to see him again.”

He hums and I feel his patronizing look over the phone.

“Sasha. You know you can see him again if you choose. You can work anywhere, darling. Don’t feed me bullshit and call it dinner. Tell me the truth.”

Laughing softly, I curse my friend for knowing me so well.

“I don’t know if I want to love someone. Leaf gets it; he’s lost a spouse. I’ve lost my mom and have no blood family. I just… I don’t know! I don’t know why I’m scared. He’s so different, Roman. And I’ve never, ever felt like this before. It’s like he’s too good to be true.”

A duck quacks and despite my turmoil, it makes me smile to watch them swim by.

Again.

It’s the same group. It has to be.

“Sasha, you deserve good things, babe. We all do. Life is too damn short. If the next fourteen days make you wish you couldnever leave, I suggest you hold on to that and figure out how to stay there. Don’t let it pass you by.”

A group of teenagers have now wandered into the park and are loud enough that I don’t want to say much more in case they overhear.

“Listen, I’ll think about it. I’m gonna let you go. I love you, my friend. I’ll check in again soon.”

Pocketing my phone, I silently curse Roman for being so obvious and in my face. Smug bastard. But I can’t ignore his advice.

With only forty minutes to spare before Pete picks me up, I amble back towards the main street, intent on dropping in the bookstore for a quick peek.

“Excuse me,” one of the teenagers calls out and I turn. “Are you… Sasha Montpellier?”

The young girl holds her breath, and her three friends wait behind her.

“I am.”

They all erupt at once.

“OHMYGOD!”

“I knew it was him!”

“This is so fucking awesome!”

A bit overwhelmed, I hold up my hands for quiet. “Ah, I’m at a loss here. You all know me and I don’t know your names.”

The leader of the group holds out a sharpie and a magazine. And it clicks. The spread I did inTeen VOGUE, the teenage version ofVOGUE. They recognize me. I’m used to being noticed only for my looks and not my actual identity. It’s usually, ‘oh it’s the guy from the billboardorthe guy from the underwear ad’. For someone to callmyname out is a nice surprise.

“I’m Violet and these are my friends, Mitchell, and Sparrow.”

Taking her magazine andSharpieI scrawl a short message and my name at the top of the spread.

“So, what did you think of this piece?”

Mitchell, the lone boy in the group, nods his head. “The interview was awesome. I think you’re very courageous.”

Glancing down at the article, my bright pink cast blazes on the crisp magazine page. It was my last contracted modelling gig under Moe. It wasn’t supposed to be an interview, but when they heard my story of being fired andwhyI rode a mechanical bull, they changed their plans. It was the first time I went public with any of my issues and, since it was a magazine aimed at teenagers, I wanted them to know it’s okay to question adults and to listen when friends voice concerns.

Of course, Moe was furious and threatened me with a lawsuit if I painted him in a negative light, so we kept that part in the background as best we could. However, the rest of the interview talked about my struggle with modelling, my issues with a personal identity, and the reality of being turned into a sex symbol before I knew what sex was. It was the first time I spoke publicly about any of it.

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