Tragic

Because if I'm not careful, the tide of abuse will wash over me again, and this time I might sink instead of swim.

Chapter Twenty-Six - ROOK

Elise's knock disrupts my reality check and I smile at her face peeking in through the window next to the door. I trot over and let her in.

"OK, big day today, Rook. I've got a lot to tell you, so let's get started."

Elise is all business and I kind of like that because she seems like a straight shooter, she just lays it all out and steps back to let me react.

"I'm ready."

And I am. I listen to every word, she points out every single stipulation in the contract. Nowhere does it say I will take off my clothes, and nowhere does it say I can't refuse to do certain shots. I like this part. What it does say is that if I don't cooperate and allow the photographer to produce what he's asked to fulfill for the contract, I will not be paid. And if I don't follow the rules of conduct for the models, I will be fired and asked to leave.

It's my choice.

I initial each stipulation without blinking. I can do this, I've decided. I will be cautious and think clearly and make decisions based on facts and not emotions. And the fact is that right now, I want that money. If I can get a few thousand dollars together, I can really make a go at starting again.

I'm not stupid—I know modeling is a short-term thing. This is not a career, just a stepping stone.

So I initial every stipulation and sign the contract.

Because I've thought about my second chance a lot over the past several months. I've dreamed it. I want it very badly. And for whatever reason the Chaput people have decided they want to help me get it. So I'm taking this chance and running with it until I'm out of breath. And when I've gotten all there is to get from it, I'm out and onto my own dreams.

Elise hugs me after my hand swishes the final letter of my name on the contract. "OK, Rook, let's go make some big money, shall we?"

"We shall," I say, laughing.

Elise and I walk into the studio together and I'm surprised at how calm things are compared to yesterday. She reads my expression. "Mondays are crazy," she explains. "We have to get all the contracts for the week settled and everyone is tense until the schedule is cemented. Most days are not like Monday, but they can be if we get something in that's on a short deadline."

She directs me to the salon chair and today we are the only ones, like it was last week when I first showed up. Has it only been five days since I met these people? Since I was homeless? Since I spent my last ten dollars on a coffee and had that little white card flipped at me in the coffee shop?

It can hardly be possible, but it is.

I have only really known Ronin for three days and change. The first day doesn't count because we never got a chance to talk until the day was over. He only said that one phrase about not making it here if they couldn't touch me when I first showed up.

Oh. God.

What am I doing?

Elise, the ever-perceptive older sister, picks up on my apprehension. "Take a deep breath. I'll be watching the whole thing, Rook. No one will take advantage of you here. I see everything."

I believe her and my heart rate calms.

"Besides," she says as she sprays water down the side of my face. "Ronin is your partner today, and I might be his sister, but it's hard not to notice. All the girls like him—"

I open my eyes and let some water splash in just so I can pay better attention to what she's saying.

"—because," she emphasizes, "he is very patient and gentle when the situation calls for it. He will take care of you while you're here modeling for us, trust me."

I relax and decide to go with it. I signed the contract, the money has been promised, the shoot is set up, I'm getting my hair done, and Ronin's hands are the ones that will be on me, not some stranger's.

That sends shivers all the way up my body.

Elise adjusts the water temperature, thinking I'm cold, and I decide that she really does see everything.

When Elise is done I change into a thin wraparound robe that ties in the front. She styles my hair straight, then braids it loosely so that it falls down the front of me. She paints on some make-up while another girl removes the cherry-red polish on my nails that was just applied yesterday and exchanges it for a pale pink.

When they turn my chair around so I can see myself in the mirror I'm a little taken back. "I thought the theme was tragic? I look… sweet."

Not at all how I imagined.

"Well, this is pretty much how tragedy takes hold, right, Rook? You start out all sweet and innocent and then bam, your world is ripped apart. So for this shoot you are happy and yes, sweet. I have your clothes set out in the dressing room, you won't have to worry about your hair, it's a zip-up."

And that's my cue to get up and get ready. My stomach is a ball of knots as I make my way into the dressing room. There's only one garment bag on the rack and it's got a slip of paper on it that says, ROOK—TRAGIC.

"Ready?" Ronin's husky voice whispers down into my neck as his hands brush against my shoulders for a moment, then take hold and turn me around.

"Yeah, I think so."

"OK, first things first. I need you to step on the scale." He points to a large stand-up scale in the corner. It looks like it belongs in a doctor's office.

"Why?"

He raises his eyebrow at me.

"I mean, why do you need to weigh me?"