Page 47 of The Artist and the Muse

What advice would I have given tomysixteen-year-old self? Or a version of me who’d never modelled before?

“It can be gruelling,” I say. “You have to have unshakable confidence in yourself, because the industry will tear you apart. There will always be people telling you that you’re not skinny enough, or now you’re too skinny and you look unhealthy.”

Jamie gave a sigh. “Sounds like what a lot of people do already.”

“Only magnify that by a thousand times. At least in most jobs, you shouldn’t be picked apart for your appearance.”

“If you seem to have nothing good to say about modelling, why are you still doing it?” Jamie asked.

Her question seemed to strike me like a slap across the face, although I knew it wasn’t meant that way. “I…”

“Sorry. My sister always tells me I’m too blunt for my own good.” She winced. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“I wish more people would hurt my feelings,” I joked. “Most people just tell me what they think I want to hear.”

She chuckled. “Ah, now that’s a problem I never have in my family. But seriously, though. Modelling doesn’t seem like your thing. I mean, not that you’re not good looking.”

I rubbed my temples. “I’m not sure why I’m still modelling. I can’t help but picture myself trying something else and failing. That would just prove to me that all I am is a pretty face. And on top of that, it’s what I think my mom always pushed me to do. It’s not like she’s ever forced me to go to photoshoots or anything like that. But she always worked two jobs when I was growing up, so if there was a way for me to provide for our family, then I wanted to do it.”

Jamie nodded and leaned forward, her brown eyes studying me without saying anything. Despite her claims of being blunt, she was refreshingly nonjudgmental. “I get that. If there was a way I could make my parents’ lives easier, even if I didn’t love it, I would do it. But it sounds like you’re letting fear drive your decisions.”

I arched an eyebrow at her. “Fear of what?”

I was the fearless one in the Steele family. The one who rode motorcycles, who always spoke her mind, who ran off with charming strangers in Italy. I wasn’t scared of anything.

Was I?

“You said you’re scared that if you try something other than modelling, you’ll mess up or fail. But every time we try something new, we’re bad at it. I mean, were you born knowing how to pose?”

I giggled. “My mom likes to say I was.”

“It sounds like you’re a perfectionist. So scared of failing that you don’t bother trying.”

I shook my head. “I thought we were talking about your sister’s career, not mine.”

Jamie barrelled on. “I think you’re scared of disappointing your mom… and yourself. The part of you that has bigger dreams than modelling.”

I considered her words, trying to drop my guard and somehow unclench my fingers from the beliefs I’d wrapped myself around for so long.

Before I could respond, we both heard the door next to us open. I cleared my throat. “That’s probably Ge—I mean, Mr. Devereaux.”

Jamie gave me a sly grin. “You know him, don’t you?”

“Know him? He’s our teacher.”

“No, from outside of class. You were about to call him George.” Her brown eyes danced with a teasing gleam.

“He’s my cousin’s wife’s brother. Cousin-in-law? Is that a thing?” I frowned.

“He’s nottechnicallyrelated to you, whatever he is.”

“He’s basically part of my family.” The words tasted wrong. I’d known him long before I’d met Katerina.

“Sure, girl. Whatever you say.” She leaned against my hotel room door. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” I echoed.

It was nice to make a friend, even if Jamie seemed to see right through me to the parts of myself I was doing my best to hide.

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