Page 4 of The Swap
From that point on, Korey helped me with everything. He had me groomed and polished and bought me a whole new wardrobe. I argued that I didn’t feel right, letting him spend so much money on me; but he insisted, saying that if I wanted to be a supermodel then I needed to look like a supermodel.
He took me to several parties and nightclubs and introduced me to some very important people, including magazine editors and fashion designers. He used those opportunities to brag about me and I’d stare at him in awe. He worked with gorgeous people every day. The fact that he saw beauty in me was beyond flattering, if not a bit surprising. In my mind, I was still the same old Oliver from Nowheresville, Alabama.
I was thrilled when I landed my first modeling job just a few weeks later. A designer from one of the parties had apparently liked my look and asked me to be in a fashion show for her new fall collection. I gained a lot of attention with my first gig and before long, offers started pouring in. Korey was obviously very good at his job. He was six years older than me and had been in the business longer. He had the knowledge and the connections to make things happen. It felt good to know that he cared about me enough to want to help.
Korey could tell how nervous I was, and he insisted on going with me to my various fashion shows and photo shoots. I felt bad that I was taking up all his time when I knew he had other clients he should be paying attention to. He brushed off my concerns though, telling me that his assistants could help the other clients and that getting my career up and running was his priority. The look in his eyes told me that he wasn’t going to budge so I let it go. Still, I felt guilty and hoped I wasn’t hurting his business in any way.
I worked hard and paid attention, trying to learn not only my job, but all the other aspects of the industry, from lighting during photo shoots to how the designers came up with their inspiration. Most of the people I worked with seemed to appreciate my interest in their work and no one ever seemed bothered by my endless questions. However, Korey warned me not to stick my nose too far into other people’s business. He told me that everyone had a part to play and mine was to look pretty. I’d bristled at his words and he’d rushed to explain that he’d simply meant that if I looked good in their magazines or wearing their clothing, then more people would want to buy them. Therefore, I was helping not only my career, but theirs as well.
I could see his point, but it still didn’t stop me from asking questions. I’d spent too many years keeping quiet about the things I loved so that I wouldn’t upset my parents. Now that I was out on my own, I wanted to learn everything I possibly could about the fashion world.
Korey scowled as he pulled his car in front of my apartment. He didn’t bother to shut off the engine and I didn’t bother to ask him to come inside. “You can afford better,” he started, but I held my hand up, cutting him off before he could say more. We’d had the same argument more times than I could count, and I was too tired to get into it with him again.
He didn’t understand why I chose to stay in the same apartment that I’d first rented when I moved to L.A. instead of living in some high-rise overlooking the city. I’d tried to explain that for me, my little home represented my freedom. It was the first place I’d ever lived in where I was able to do or say or think anything I wanted, and no one would judge me. Korey just laughed and told me that I could have the same thing in a luxury condo.
Logically, I knew he was right. I no longer lived under my parents’ strict thumb and wherever I chose to live, no one would ever make me hide who I was again. Still, the tiny brick apartment with the leaky faucets and the peeling paint was home to me. It held an important place in my heart and when I eventually decided to move on from it, it would bemydecision and no one else’s.
“Let’s not start that tonight, okay?” I pleaded.
“Fine. You go get ready. I have a few errands to run but I’ll be back to pick you up in a half hour.”
“You sure we can’t just order Chinese and watch a movie? I’m really beat,” I asked hopefully.
“No way. You’re too young to be huddled up in your house like an old lady,” he teased. “Go have a shower. Maybe that’ll wake you up.”
“Fine, but if I’m going to go back out, I at least deserve to know where we’re going.”
Korey gave me a sly smile. “I made reservations for that French restaurant you’ve been wanting to try.”
“Bel Amour?” My eyes widened in surprise. “How the hell did you get a reservation? I heard they’re booked up solid for the next two years.”
“You’d be surprised what I can make happen,” he responded.
I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you so much. You’re the best,” I gushed.
Korey laughed as he hugged me back. “Don’t ever forget it. Now, go in there and get cleaned up before we miss our reservation time.” I jumped out of the car, grabbed my duffle bag and, with a quick wave over my shoulder, ran up the sidewalk. Korey pulled away from the curb as I let myself inside.
I took a long hot shower, letting the water soothe the stiff muscles brought on by holding one pose for so long. My mind wandered, and I drifted away to my favorite daydream. It had started a few months before and was the same one every time. In my fantasy, I was held in the arms of my lover, the two of us spending a lazy day in bed together. We talked and made love and I fed him as we stared into each other’s eyes. In my dream, I felt more connected to him than any other person on the planet.
I shut off the water with a sigh as the dream drifted away and reached for a towel. I dried myself and then wiped the steam from the mirror, noting the sadness in my reflection. I wondered if it would always be only a dream for me. Something I longed for but that was destined to remain just out of my reach. Was there even such a man out there who wanted the same things I did?
