Read The Sea Taketh (Alex Singer) Online
Authors: Teresa Rae
At the end of the runway, the guys put down the couch, and I do as Becky instructed earlier. I simply let them worship me – at least that’s what she calls it. I call it torture.
After what seems like an eternity, one of the models accompanying me holds out a hand. When I take it, he helps me stand. The crowd goes crazy. Wearing six inch stilettos, I make my way across the runway. Fog machines make it look as though I’m walking in clouds. I focus on walking and breathing so I don’t freak out and fall on my face.
Forcing myself to strut, as I have practiced for the past two weeks, I make my way around the catwalk, trying to ignore the clamoring crowds. I am extremely grateful when I make it back to my couch – without any mishaps – including falling on my face. One of the male models helps me resume a reclining position. I’m even more grateful when I’m carried off the runway.
Refer to Fact #7 – Modeling is mortifying.
“Alex darling!” exclaims Colin as I’m set down. He’s joined us from the photography section. “Listen to your adoring fans!”
Tumultuous applause rings through the air.
Becky takes my arm. “Are you ready for the curtain call?”
A line of beautifully dressed models passes us, streaming onto the runway.
“Todd and Antonio, don’t drop Alex,” Becky says cautiously.
The models nod as they set me between their shoulders. I’m immediately carried onto the catwalk. The crowd jumps to their feet when we come into view. The boys carefully put me down, and I follow the other models up and down the runway.
“And here is the creator of this incredible line of clothing, Rebecca Joyce!” an announcer says.
Todd and Antonio escort Becky onto stage as I finish my round. I am never so happy to disappear off the stage and allow Becky to have the limelight.
“You were brilliant!” Cathy meets me as I walk off the runway. “How are you going to celebrate?”
“I’m going to enjoy a cup of hot chocolate in my room while I work on a stack of homework,” I say as a swarm of people help me out of the ridiculously expensive bikini. It has to be put back in the vault until it is sold, which, Becky assures me, will be before the evening is over.
* * *
Spending time in Europe opens my eyes to how sheltered I really am in the village, especially when it comes to my own fame. Wherever I go, I’m treated like a superstar. I’m given all kinds of gifts, by various clothing companies, just so they can say they’ve clothed me, and fans show up whenever I make a public appearance. I am doted on by countless admiring men. However, there is only one guy I can’t get out of my mind, but he’s back in Maine. Even more problematic, he is a merman.
Europe is beautiful and it helps get my mind off Christian. We travel from location to location, doing shoots in several different countries; there are winter shoots in the Alps, spring and summer shoots along the Mediterranean, and fall shoots everywhere else. In between shoots, I walk down the most famous runways in the fashion capitals of the world: Paris, Milan, and London.
The shoots and fashion shows are very successful. Colin and Becky are giddy with the caliber of work. It seems that I can do nothing wrong. Because of this, they extend the tour. Instead of being a couple weeks, I’m gone more than a month. Colin even tries to extend it longer, but Gramps puts down his foot. I missed Thanksgiving, and he wants me home by December first.
It’s snowing when Becky pulls up to my house. Before I can even step out of the car, Gramps runs into the snow. He opens the door, and pulls me into a tight embrace.
“Becky, you’ve kept my girl away too long!” he says, wiping moisture from his eyes.
“You’ll see why when you see the photographs and shows that have come out of it.” Becky opens the trunk. “I won’t be surprised if Alex is named the most beautiful woman in the world when the new photos are released.”
“I don’t care about all that,” Gramps dismisses the statement as if he already knows it to be the truth. “I’m just glad to have her home.”
He looks at all my new pieces of luggage and shakes his head.
Becky sees the gesture. “Tools of the trade,” she laughs.
We carry in the suitcases. Gramps offers Becky a cup of hot coffee.
“No, thank you. I need to get going to beat this storm home,” she says looking at the sky out the window as she heads out the door.
We walk her out. She stops in the driveway.
“Who’s that?” she points across the street.
Christian is standing on Marjory’s sidewalk. His eyes are locked to mine as snowflakes accumulate in his blond hair.
“That’s Alex’s boyfriend,” Gramps answers.
“Ex-boyfriend,” I quickly amend. I avert my eyes from Christian.
“Whoever he is, has he ever thought of modeling?” Becky asks as she stares at him.
“You’ll never get him in front of a camera,” Gramps says.
“Too bad,” she shakes her head
and sighs as she gets into the car. “I’ll keep you updated on the publications.”
“We’ll see you later, thanks for bringing my girl home, even if it is three weeks late,” Gramps says as he directs me into the house. I peek over my shoulder. Christian’s eyes are still on me. I sigh as I shut the door.
“Jen will be here in about a half an hour,” Gramps says. “She’s picking up Chinese takeout on the way to celebrate your homecoming.”
“That sounds great,” I take off my coat. “I’ve really missed you. Europe’s great, but there’s no place like home.”
“I’ve also invited Marjory and the Pedersens to eat with us,” he says, not looking at me.
“It’ll be good to see Marjory.” I kiss his cheek.
“I want you to be civil to him.”
I know he means Christian.
“Gramps, it’s been over a month and a half. We’ve both moved on with our lives.”
“No, you ran away.”
“I just got home. I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“Alex, I just want you to be happy.”
I load my arms with luggage.
“You don’t know how happy I am just to be home.” I smile at him. “I think I’ll go take a shower before everyone gets here.”
After my shower, I am watching the ocean out my window when Jen bursts into the room. “Girl, I’ve missed you!” She throws her arms around me.
“You’re hurting me!” I laugh, dropping
a pile of fan mail in my lap.
“Sorry,” she says, letting go of me. There’s a huge smile on her face. “It’s going to be awesome to have you back at school. I’ve spent most of my time with the Danes, not that I’m complaining about the company.”
“Has Jackson been terrible?”
“We haven’t seen much of him because of his anger management classes and commun
ity service, which is fine by me.”
I nod. “How’s your family?”
“The same as always,” she says. “How was Europe?”
“Wonderful, I saw the most beautiful places, and . . .” remembering her gift, “I brought you something,” I say as I put down the unread fan mail. I grab a suitcase and hand it to her.
Her forehead wrinkles as she opens it. She gasps when she sees what’s inside. “You shouldn’t have.” She holds up stacks of neatly folded clothes.
“I didn’t spend a dime,” I say. “When the companies asked if I wanted anything, I picked out something for you, too.”
“There is thousands of dollars worth of clothes in here.” She looks through the suitcase.
“I wouldn’t really know. I just took things I thought you’d wear.”
Jen closes the suitcase and holds it to her body.
“Vanessa, eat your heart out,” she says.
“How have Dan and Kyle been?” I change the subject.
“They’re fine. Everyone’s fine, except Christian.” She shuts her suitcase.
“I don’t want to go there.” I turn my head.
“Alex, he loves you.”
“And he’ll find someone else.” I stand.
“We both know it doesn’t work that way. Love can’t be turned on and off like a flashlight…”
Gramps interrupts the co
nversation when he calls for us, “Girls, the Chinese is getting cold.”
“We better go.” Jen puts down her gift.
“Just a sec, I have to grab a couple things.”
We walk into the kitchen, bearing gifts. I give Gramps a new jacket and a couple books about Europe. Marjory is delighted with a set of essential oils. The Pedersens are thrilled with two bottles of French wine. Sven immediately opens them as Henrik passes around the Chinese.
“Ugh, mermen and their seafood!” exclaims Jen.
I look at her, stunned.
“What?” She shrugs her shoulders. “Sven told me before you left.”
“It’s not like I could keep it from my little, stinging jellyfish for long,” Sven says as he puts an arm around Jen.
“Our men are very nice men!” Marjory pats Henrik’s cheek.
“Yes, they are,” Gramps concurs. “Christian, what kind of sweet and sour would you like?”
“I’m not especially hungry this evening.” After nearly six weeks, his voice is sweeter than ever.
I can’t help myself, my gaze falls on him.
Henrik tries to pass him a glass of wine. He shakes his head and stands.
“Alexandra, I would like to go for a drive to see the newly fallen snow. Would you please join me?”
There is something about the way he says it, or maybe it’s the look in his eyes that persuades me to agree. I can feel my logic starting to argue with my heart. I silently nod. I didn’t realize how much I have missed him until this moment.
“Great, we can go grab some dessert to go with the Chinese,” Sven says as he stands.
“Alexandra and I will go alone.” Christian holds out a hand for the keys to the car.
“But…” Henrik argues with a warning look on his face.
Christian angrily blows through his lips. Henrik silences and Sven passes him the keys. I go to the door and pull on my winter coat. He follows me into the snow.
We are as silent as the falling snow as we cross the street to Marjory’s house. Going into her garage, he opens the passenger-side door for me. I get in as he opens the garage door. Getting into the driver’s seat, he starts the engine. Moments later, we’re driving up the coast.
The world looks so clean and innocent covered with a fresh layer of snow. Its imperfections are hidden underneath the blanket of white. Clouds restrain the sunshine, but the white world still reflects its glow. Large snowflakes fall on the windshield and the wipers shove them aside. Like everything else, this winter wonderland is simply a façade. Yes it is beautiful, but the reality is someone will have to shovel and haul the snow away. Nothing is as simple and innocent as it appears.
“Is there something you want to talk about?” I ask after several uncomfortable minutes.
“There are many things I would like to talk about, but I am content to simply breathe the same air as you,” he says softly. The tone of his voice makes my heart ache.
It is still snowing as Christian parks the car overlooking the ocean. He lays his head on the headrest and closes his eyes. He takes in several deep breaths.
“I can’t believe how much I’ve missed you,” he says. His face remains stoic, but there is longing in his voice.
“Christian, a relationship between us is impossible,” I say what has been on my mind for over a month.
“It will have its challenges, but it’s far from impossible.”
“Challenges? Mermen don’t spend very much time on land, do they?”