Jaxxon thought she sounded a mixture of impressed and bitter. Mr Miller had to be the friend Richie talked about. Hang on a sec…Miller? Miller as in Ollie Miller, the make-up artist on all the commercials for Storm Cosmetics? Bloody hell. Jaxxon wasn’t big on make-up and only really bothered with mascara but even she knew who he was. Not that she’d ever been able to afford any Storm stuff so she couldn’t say whether they were any good or not, but God they were international best-selling products. She hadn’t realised Ollie Miller ran the company. Well this might turn out to be an interesting morning.
“Jaxxon Carter, I presume?” said the redhead. “If you take a seat, someone will be down shortly to escort you to see Mr Moore and Mr Miller.”
Jaxxon nodded and slouched into one of the seats, which was really comfy she noticed. She also noticed that apparently her attire wasn’t appreciated by the girls seated around her either – particularly the one beside her who was wearing something that may as well have been a flannel. They all looked at Jaxxon as though she was a failed science experiment or something, though they were quick to look away if Jaxxon even half scowled at them. Inside, she was smiling. If her casual appearance made them feel uncomfortable then they had to lead very sad lives.
It was something like five minutes later when she heard her name being called by a familiar voice. Lifting her head, she saw Richie heading towards her grinning. She could only guess from the whispers and looks of shock on the other girls’ faces that it wasn’t commonplace for him to come and personally greet whoever he had an appointment with.
There was an incredible amount of awe and devotion on the face of the girl seated beside her but Richie didn’t spare her a glance, just as he hadn’t the others. Jaxxon murmured to her, “You should have worn your jeans.” Then she rose and made her way to Richie. “Hi.”
“Very nice to see you again, Jaxxon.” When she simply nodded rather than return the sentiment, he grinned. “I like that you don’t tell people what you think they want to hear. It’s very refreshing. Now, let me introduce you to my newest business partner, Oliver Miller.”
After a short elevator ride and a series of lefts and rights that made Jaxxon feel as though she was in a labyrinth, they finally reached a small, modern office. Ollie looked up from the computer as they entered. Up close he resembled Bob Hoskins. Used to Richie’s gentle, eloquent voice, it was slightly surprising to hear Ollie’s rough and deep cockney accent.
“Alright, luv, you must be Jaxxon.”
Unlike Richie who was all suited-up, Ollie was dressed in a pair of jeans and a thin jumper. Oh yes, she and him would get along just fine. “Yep.”
“Odd name,” he mused, “but I like it. Unique. Memorable. If someone was to refer to ‘the model, Jaxxon’, there wouldn’t be much mistaking who they were talking about.”
Richie and Jaxxon both took a seat opposite Ollie as he leant forward in his chair, fiddling with his pen. A lot of girls had walked through that door but none had done so without looking a bag of nerves. The one in front of him was as cool as a cucumber; someone who had nothing to lose. For her not to be twitchy and jittery at the thought of what she could gain she had obviously entered that door believing the answer was a resounding no. “So,” he finally said, “you want to be a model.”
“No,” she replied honestly. “What I want is a better job and better life than what I’ve already got so I can get out of where I’m living before I end up bashing my landlord’s head against the toilet that he denies needs fixing. Richie just happens to have come along at the right time. I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if I’m not all that keen on the horse.”
Ollie smiled approvingly at her before looking at Richie. “You were right, she’s very different.”
“I’ll give you the same warning I gave Richie Rich,” said Jaxxon. “I’m not easy to have around, you’ll never find me full of the joys of spring, and I don’t mince my words.”
Ollie’s smile widened. “Then I think you’ll find that you and I have a lot in common. How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Older than I usually like, but not too old. Especially since you look around eighteen anyway and our range is aimed at young women. Ever done any modelling work before?”
Jaxxon shook her head. “In fact, I don’t really like cameras much.”
He laughed silently as he made his way around the table to stand in front of her. Just as he raised his hand to touch her face, Jaxxon reflexively raised her own to block his move.
“Jaxxon has a slight aversion to touch, especially when it comes to strangers,” explained Richie quickly.
Ollie supposed by the kind of background that she had that she hadn’t known much gentleness in her life and perhaps had also encountered much roughness. It would make any touch seem too intimate. Dropping his hand, he said, “Could you please slowly move your head from side to side for me. That’s it. Like that.”
Studying her face very closely, he was pleased to see that it was almost completely symmetrical. Not too long, not too round. Full, sensual lips. Well-proportioned nose. Perfect lashes and brows. No blemishes, moles or spots. Her skin was practically flawless and her bone structure made her a photographer’s dream. It was a wonder no one had snapped her up before now.
“Lovely. Now, what we’d like is to take you down to one of the studios for a few test shots. Richie told me that he explained to you that he and I have joined on a project together and are bringing out a whole new range of cosmetics. We intend to call the range Allure. If today goes well, it may be that your face will be what sells those products.”
Jaxxon couldn’t imagine her face inspiring anyone to buy anything, but let these poor sods figure that out for themselves after the test shots.
“So let’s get you down to make-up and then after that you’ll be brought to one of the studios where we’ll be waiting.”
It sounded so much like an order that she could only reply, “Copy that.”
After an hour of being handled by make-up artists, hairstylists and wardrobe assistants Jaxxon was ushered over to a mirror. She had expected to look extremely different, to not look at all like herself, but that wasn’t the effect at all. She was still in jeans and a t-shirt, although both were skin-tight and the t-shirt showed off her cle**age. Her curls had been smoothed with some kind of serum which didn’t take the wildness away but hid the split ends and made it look as though it had been polished. Her face had been treated with a minimum amount of make-up apart from her eyes which had been mascaraed to death and her lips which had been heavily coated with a rich cherry gloss.