Page 2 of Moonlight Over Seattle

Tamara bit her lip. “How did you start?”

“I had parents in the fashion industry, which helped. I’ve been modeling since before I can remember.”

“But do I have a chance? I could diet and color my hair. I could even get my nose fixed or do anything else that’s needed.”

This was an area in which Nicole had particularly strong opinions, something she planned to act on as an agent.

“You’re healthy and attractive the way you are,” she answered firmly, but she had a feeling the kid wasn’t listening.

“I’d do anything to look like you,” Tamara breathed.

“Don’t turn into a clone of someone else. Be yourself. There’s nothing better than that.”

“But I bet guys just look at you and fall in love.”

Sure, Nicole thought to herself, they look at me and fall in love, but they just want the surface. Through bitter experience she’d learned that too many men saw only the image on the magazine cover…the fantasy. Either that, or they couldn’t handle the notoriety that came from being involved with a supermodel. She’d believed her ex-fiancé, Paulo, was different. Instead, he’d wanted perfection—the ultimate trophy wife. Paulo was a nice person and had loved her in his own way, but that hadn’t been enough for her.

Adam’s voice intruded. “Nicole, are you coming?”

“On my way,” she called back. “Bye, Tamara. I hope this helps. Sorry I have to go now, but I’m freezing. Good luck with whatever career you choose.” Turning, she swiftly walked to the dressing trailer.

She was shivering harder now, despite the terry robe, and it was a relief to put on jeans, a T-shirt and jacket.

“See you later,” she called to Rachel as she ran to her car. They were all having dinner together and she wanted a hot shower first.

The warm water felt wonderful after a cold day in skimpy swimsuits and shorts, yet a part of her mind was preoccupied with what Tamara had said, I bet guys just look at you and fall in love. Nicole hadn’t wanted to get into a discussion about the difference between love and lust with a teenager, but it was something she’d learned the hard way.

It might be different if she’d ever gotten involved with Logan or Adam—they were terrific guys—but they’d remained friends, not lovers. And after multiple broken hearts and betrayals from men more interested in hitching a ride with a well-known face than genuine love, she’d decided friendship was far more satisfying.

Nicole dressed quickly and in less than an hour, rang Rachel’s bell.

“Hey,” Rachel greeted her at the door. “Adam and Logan are already here. Hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m starved. I know you said not to bring anything, but I ordered a super-sized pizza to be delivered.”

Rachel staggered backward and clasped a hand over her heart. “Pizza? That’s treason.” She laughed.

“Just call me Benedict Pepperoni.”

“You never gain weight, anyhow. But what about the healthy glow that fruits and vegetables are supposed to provide? ‘The camera can tell you eat crap,’” she said haughtily, quoting one of the fussier photographers they’d worked with.

Nicole shook her head. “I’ve only got a few more jobs left, so I’m not worried about it.”

“Then you’re serious about quitting.”

“If I’m going to make a change, I have to actually do it.”

Rachel whistled. “The press will claim it’s a play for more money.”

“They’ll print whatever they want, no matter what I tell them.” Nicole knew she sounded cynical, but didn’t care. She’d run out of patience with reporters a long time ago. When they didn’t get the story they wanted, some of them just invented one they liked better.

“Don’t I know it,” Rachel muttered.

Nicole squeezed her arm in sympathy. Rachel had started in the modeling business in her early teens and become a star, only to have her career end after a terrible accident on a modeling set. The scars left from it weren’t disfiguring, but they were enough to put her out of demand by advertisers who generally preferred their own version of flawless. Now she handled makeup on shoots and seemed happy enough, but once in a while the so-called journalists dug the story out again, usually when there was a scandal surrounding her ex-husband.

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