Two-Faced (10 page)

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Authors: Mandasue Heller

BOOK: Two-Faced
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‘All right as in you forgive me, but don’t do it again?’ Liam ventured, giving her a questioning smile. ‘Or, all right, you’ll think about it?’

Before Michelle had a chance to answer, a taxi pulled up to the kerb at the end of the path.

‘Oi! I thought you were supposed to be coming straight back, so why are you still hanging about down here?’

Wishing the ground would open up and swallow her when Liam turned to see who was shouting at her, Michelle excused herself and rushed towards the car.

‘Sorry,’ she murmured, glad that the darkness was masking her flaming cheeks. ‘I got talking and forgot the time.’

‘Who’s that?’ Mia demanded, dipping her head to peer at Liam.

Murmuring, ‘Just a friend,’ Michelle’s heart sank. If Mia could see Liam, then he could probably see her, and he’d be bound to lose whatever interest he’d had in Michelle.

‘Never you mind about him,’ Kim snapped at Mia. ‘I’ve already told you you’re off boys.’ Yanking her keys out of her pocket now, she thrust them into Michelle’s hand. ‘Right, hurry up home and get the bolts on, ’cos I saw Pam nosying when we were getting in the cab.’

Nodding, Michelle slipped the keys into her pocket.

‘Get going, then.’

Michelle cast a glance back at Liam and saw that he was on the phone again, his back turned. She really would have liked to say goodbye, but her mum was still looking at her expectantly. So, reluctantly, she set off for home.

Twisting her head when the taxi drove on, Mia stared back at Liam. She’d caught a glimpse of his face when they’d first pulled up, and she could have sworn he was really fit. But why would a fit lad be bothering with a dork like Michelle?

Facing the front again when they turned the corner, Mia pursed her lips thoughtfully. Michelle would have introduced him if he really was just a friend, but the fact that she hadn’t indicated that she was scared he would fancy Mia. Smiling slyly to herself now that she’d solved the mystery, she settled back in her seat. So little Michelle thought she was keeping him to herself, did she? Well, they’d soon see about that.

Finishing his call, Liam turned to find both Michelle and the car gone. He frowned and looked out along the road. Spotting a dark figure receding in the distance, he called her name and set off after her at a run.

‘Christ, how
fast
do you walk?’ he gasped, breathless by the time he’d caught up with her.

‘Sorry,’ Michelle murmured. ‘I’ve got to go home.’

‘You never answered my question,’ Liam said, peering into her eyes. ‘About going out sometime?’

‘Oh, right.’ She bit her lip. ‘You meant it, then?’

‘Course I meant it.’ He laughed. ‘Or do you think I go round asking people out for fun? Well, obviously the intention
is
to have some fun once you actually
get
there,’ he added quickly. ‘But you know what I mean.’

Smiling shyly as her stomach did a little somersault, Michelle said, ‘I suppose so.’

‘So, is that a yes or a no?’

Gazing up at him, Michelle took a deep breath. This could be a wind-up, and his friends might well jump out of the bushes as soon as she opened her mouth. But if she didn’t take this chance, she might never know.

‘Okay,’ she said, tensing for the piss-taking that she fully expected to follow.

But Liam didn’t laugh. He tipped his head to one side, and said, ‘Really?’ as if he couldn’t quite believe that she’d agreed. Then, grinning when she nodded, he said, ‘Great. When?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she told him quietly, already wondering how she was going to manage it when her mum kept insisting that she stay in to guard the house.

‘Tell you what, I’ll give you my number,’ Liam offered. ‘Then you can ring when you’re free.’

‘I haven’t got any credit,’ she admitted – too embarrassed to add that she wasn’t likely to get any top-ups any time soon, because her mum had been spending every spare penny on Mia lately.

‘Okay, I’ll take yours instead,’ he suggested, taking his own phone out of his pocket.

Michelle rushed inside when she got home a few minutes later, leant back against the door and hugged the books tightly, slowly replaying in her mind what had just happened. She still couldn’t believe that someone as gorgeous as Liam wanted to go out with her. But he really did, and he’d followed her not just once but
twice
in order to ask her.

The only problem now was how to make it happen without Mia finding out, because if Liam saw
her
he’d take one look and realise he’d picked the wrong sister.

But she wouldn’t worry about that right now. She would just hold her secret close and wait for Liam to call – and pray that he didn’t change his mind in the meantime.

Across town, Kim and Mia had just arrived at Sammy Martin’s office. A far cry from the plush city-centre offices of the bigger agencies they’d visited so far, this was situated in the middle of a row of mostly boarded-up terraced houses on a gloomy backstreet off Ancoats. And if Mia had been reluctant before, she was positively determined not to even get out of the taxi now. But Kim was having none of it.

‘Move,’ she hissed, paying the driver and elbowing Mia out. ‘And don’t even think about making a show of me, or there’ll be trouble.’

Kim straightened her clothes when the cab had gone, patted her hair to make sure it was still in place, then walked up to the door. Pressing the buzzer, she announced herself and waited for the door to be released. She pushed Mia into the dingy hallway, most of which was dominated by an uncarpeted staircase, stepped in behind her and waited for a receptionist. But a voice called down for them to make their own way up.

Hissing one last warning at Mia to behave herself, Kim held her head up and forced a smile onto her lips as she ascended the stairs and came face to face with Sammy Martin.

‘Very nice to meet you,’ Sammy said and pumped her hand. Then, turning to Mia: ‘And hello to you, young lady.’

Getting a scowl and tightly folded arms in return, he waved them through to his office.

Sulkily following her mum, Mia flopped into one of the visitors’ chairs and stared pointedly at the floor.

‘Thank you so much for seeing us at such short notice,’ Kim gushed, handing the portfolio across to Sammy as he took his own seat on the other side of the desk. ‘I’ve been meaning to call you for ages, but we’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance.’

Smiling without comment, Sammy unzipped the faux-leather case and flipped it open. Nobody’s fool, he knew that Kim would never have contacted him if she weren’t desperate. It had been some five or six weeks since Tim Leece had rung to let him know that he’d recommended his agency to them – and having seen the expression on both their faces when they’d got their first sight of him just now, he’d bet they were wishing they hadn’t bothered.

He couldn’t really blame them, because in an industry where appearance was everything – whichever side of the camera you graced – Sammy was hardly the finest specimen of modelling manhood. But he was a self-confessed lazy bugger when it came to exercise, and the older he got, the more of a losing battle it became to even be bothered ironing a shirt in the mornings. And having reached the grand old age of fifty without learning how to cook – or sparing enough time to find a decent woman to do it for him – it was a case of junk food or no food.

It frustrated Sammy sometimes that he hadn’t made more of an effort to play the image game, because he’d always had – and still did have – a keen eye for spotting undiscovered talent. But he’d long ago reconciled himself to the fact that top models would rather eat a proper dinner – and keep it all down – than be associated with a fat agent. Still, he’d managed to carve out a respectable niche in the middle market of catalogues and toilet-paper ads. And he had a great little stable of regular, reliable models – none of whom the big boys could be bothered to steal from him, because they had nothing remarkable enough about them to warrant it.

So, no, Sammy was under no illusions about his limitations. Any more than he was under any illusion about why Kim and Mia Delaney were sitting here now. And looking over the photographs, he could see exactly what the problem was.

Despite her mother’s seeming conviction that she was the next Kate Moss in waiting, Mia didn’t display that certain something that was essential for the catwalk. And her face was nowhere near quirky or outstandingly gorgeous enough for the high-fashion glossies.

Thanks to Tim Leece’s wizardry, the pictures were of excellent technical quality, but even
he
couldn’t magic
X-Factor
into a subject’s eyes. That was born, not created, and Mia just didn’t have it.

And she obviously found it hard to follow directions, too, because Tim would undoubtedly have told her how to stand, where to look, and what to do with her mouth, etc . . . and yet she had over-posed in every shot. And the self-satisfied
I’m-too-gorgeous-for-words
smile was bordering on sickening.

But Mia apparently thought she looked the business, because she’d tried to replicate the exact same look today – oblivious to the fact that harsh domestic bulbs didn’t soften the effect like professional lighting did.

Glancing up at Mia now, only to see her still staring into space with a sullen expression on her over-painted face, Sammy sighed. Despite their only experience coming via the TV modelling shows they were all addicted to, these young girls all seemed to think that being a diva was the way to get ahead. But nobody in their right mind would waste time and money on a moody uncooperative novice when there were thousands of equally pretty girls to choose from.

Kim was beginning to fidget. They’d been here for almost twenty minutes now, and she’d been watching Sammy’s face the whole time, desperately trying to read what he was thinking as he studied the photos. But his expression was giving absolutely nothing away. Unable to bear the heavy silence any longer, she cleared her throat loudly.

‘So, what do you think?’

‘They’re okay,’ Sammy replied, giving a tiny noncommittal shrug.


Okay?
’ Kim repeated incredulously. ‘Oh, come on, they’re better than okay. She looks really pretty in them.’

‘Pretty’s not enough, I’m afraid.’ Sitting back, Sammy looped his hands together on his belly. ‘From what you told me when you rang, I gather you’re expecting huge things for her. But if you want my honest opinion, she just hasn’t got what it takes.’

Already irritated, having thought that a little backstreet agent like him would bite her hand off for the chance to represent an obvious star like Mia, Kim’s nostrils flared.

‘Look, she’s bloody
gorgeous
, so don’t be telling me she hasn’t got it. And these cost a fortune, so you can’t say
they
’re not good enough.’ She jabbed her finger down on the photographs. ‘So let’s not waste any more time. You either want to be her agent, or you don’t. And if you don’t, just be honest and say it, ’cos there’s plenty who’d jump at the chance.’

‘Maybe so,’ Sammy conceded. ‘But I’m figuring you’ve already been turned down by all the good ones, so you’ve got to ask yourself if those who are left are the kind of people you’d want handling your daughter’s career.’

‘Yes!’ Kim shot back without hesitation. ‘At least I’d know they had faith in her – like
I
have. But if you can’t see what she’s got to offer, it’s your loss.’

Amused when she began to scoop the photographs together furiously, Sammy said, ‘I’ll tell you what, mum, she’s lucky she’s got you in her corner.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Kim glared at him.

Nodding towards Mia, Sammy said, ‘Be honest, is that the face of a girl who looks determined to do whatever it takes to make it? And if you say yes,’ he added quickly, knowing that that was exactly what Kim was about to say, ‘then you’re either lying, or fooling yourself. In fact, if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say that
you
want it more than she does.’

‘That’s not true,’ Kim shot back defensively. ‘You want to do it, don’t you, Mee?
Tell
him.’

Rolling her eyes as if she really couldn’t give a toss, Mia issued a bored-sounding ‘Mmmm.’

‘Oh, well, you’ve got me convinced,’ Sammy murmured.

‘No, she really means it,’ Kim insisted, tears of desperation beginning to glisten in her eyes. ‘This was
her
idea, I swear to God.’ Turning on Mia now, her voice shaky, she said, ‘You know how much this means to me, so stop playing funny buggers.’

Glowering back at her mother, embarrassed that she was falling apart like this in front of a complete stranger, Mia hissed, ‘I told you I didn’t want to do it any more.’

‘Only ’cos you’ve realised it’s not going to be as easy as you thought,’ Kim snapped back, her voice rising to a squawk as the anger and frustration overwhelmed her.

Feeling sorry for her, because it was obvious that she was really struggling to hold it together, Sammy cleared his throat to remind her that he was actually hearing all this. Smiling apologetically when she jerked her head around, he said, ‘I hope you don’t think I’m interfering, but do you really think there’s any point trying to force her if she doesn’t want to do it?’

Sensing that he was about to tell them that the interview was over, Kim’s chin began to wobble uncontrollably. She’d come here with such high hopes, utterly convinced that Sammy Martin would sign Mia up without a second thought. But even he didn’t want to know.

Sammy sighed when the tears that Kim had been struggling to hold back began to trickle slowly down her cheeks. He shoved his chair back and stood up.

‘I’ll make some coffee,’ he said, lumbering around the desk and heading for the door. ‘Then we’ll have a chat, and I’ll let you know what’s wrong from my point of view.’

Grateful that he wasn’t going to turf them out right this second, Kim pulled a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose loudly.

‘Do you have to?’ Mia hissed when they were alone. ‘Don’t you think you’ve embarrassed me enough already without bursting into tears?’

‘I can’t help it,’ Kim hissed back. ‘You can’t pick and choose when you start going through the change, you know.’

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