GRABBING LIFE BY THE BALLS
“Hi it’s me, Jamie,” she whispered into the intercom as she was buzzed into the building. Walking through the long, narrow corridor towards the main office of Hurricane Modelling Agency, Jamie glanced up at the ‘Hall of Fame’ with Iman, Lily Cole, Yasmin Le Bon and other Supers all gracing the latest covers of Vogue and her heart sank. This was the end of an era. She was going to be thirty-two soon, so retirement was fast approaching, unless you happened to be one of the chosen few. Despite the daily rejection and unkind comments from the inside, to the outside world, you’re put on a pedestal. The doors that open, the members-only lists that don’t apply; there was no denying that being a model and looking a certain way had its definite perks. But then comes the flip side … and for Jamie, there was no getting around it anymore.
Swinging open the doors into the main room, Jamie swallowed hard and entered on autopilot. “Hey, guys.” Eyes, teeth, dazzle, dazzle.
“Hello, darling.” It was Jemima. One of the new bookers, an ex-model herself whose modelling days were over at twenty-seven despite still having the looks—five foot eleven with long dark hair and feline deep-set brown eyes. Jamie figured that would likely be her next job if Kate’s offer didn’t pan out. Just the thought made her heart sink a further twenty feet. It was a great proposal, but she hadn’t even spoken to this Nigel yet. She’d have to keep tight-lipped and not get too excited until the job offer was confirmed. Besides, Nigel hadn’t even met her.
“Nice cardi. Zadig it was like being in one of those old-fashioned telephone exchanges. Jamie air-kissed Tabitha, who briefly stood up to greet her. She was impeccably dressed as usual, and her slightly frozen expression suggested she’d just recently had her Botox topped up. Jamie had to give it to the woman. She was almost fifty, forty to everyone who didn’t know, and at least she was getting by on freezing alone.
“So, darling, I just wanted to call you in for a little chat.” Tabitha looked concerned. A model’s booker was like a surrogate mother; there to find them the best jobs, secure the highest rates, and of course, offload to. Break-ups with boyfriends, dead goldfish, haircuts from hell—all part and parcel of the counselling service. But it wasn’t genuine concern.
Tabitha’s phone started ringing once again. “I’ll be right with you, darling. Just give me two minutes.” Tabitha began what seemed like a full-scale assault on some poor unsuspecting male model called Jared. By the sounds of it Jared had messed up his addresses and turned up for a shoot at the wrong studio. Tabitha was not impressed. One more mistake like that and he could be struck off the board. That is, unless he managed to quickly secure himself a lucrative campaign of course.
Jamie walked over towards the men’s board, where all the z-cards are kept of each model—A5 composites of their best work. She tried to scan the massive display in an attempt to figure out which Jared was getting an earful. Mmmm, there’s only one Jared … with a body to die for. Oooh, and just look at Zane over there … his eyes, his lips … perfection . Lost in the beauty before her, Jamie almost didn’t hear Gavin, Head Booker of the New Faces division.
“Jamie, hello? Are you with us today?” Gavin had been filing away copy books at the back of the agency. These were duplicates of every model’s portfolio kept in-house to show any clients popping into the agency. Noticing Miss King was in a trance-like state, he took it upon himself to come over. “Good to see you, angel. How's tricks?” Gavin beamed from behind his red-rimmed glasses as he planted a kiss on her cheek. He wasn’t stereotypically good looking, but he had a quirkiness about him that made him rather adorable, especially when his crooked smile showed off unexpectedly remarkable teeth. Considering they were granted from heaven above and not courtesy of one of London’s leading cosmetic dentists, it was somewhat of an anomaly.
“I’m good. How’s things with you?” Jamie made small talk, but her mouth and brain were operating in two separate dimensions. She was feeling extremely uneasy, as she knew Tabitha hadn’t called her in for a friendly chat, and all she wanted to do was escape this industry. Gavin began to chatter about his recent dates; all unsuccessful. His beloved cat Rupert, his hangover from the weekend. Jamie glazed over, her mind everywhere but there.
“I’m free, poppet,” Tabitha finally called out, having clearly wiped the floor with the poor but rather yummy Jared and was pumped up and raring to go. Well, as pumped up as her willowy frame would allow. “Let’s go and sit somewhere more comfortable, shall we? Would you like a drink or something? Water perhaps? You’re looking a little dehydrated.” Tabitha was already examining.
Keep smiling, you can do it.
Nestling into the large red sofa situated in the corner of the office, Tabitha and Jamie began their tête-à-tête.
“I’m worried about you, sweetheart.” Tabitha leaned towards Jamie, her eyes carrying out a quick head-to-toe inspection now that she was at close range.
“Worried?”
“Yes, darling. What’s going on with you these days?”
Jamie tried to intercept. “What do you—”
But once Tabitha started one of her monologues, there was no stopping her. “It’s just that some of your clients haven’t been as happy as they should be. George Humphries from Marie Claire said you weren’t bringing your usual energy to the shoot. Said you lacked stamina, looked grey, tired and, frankly … ill.” Tabitha’s missile was aimed and fired.
“Oh, you know how it is, Tabitha. Flying, early starts, takes it out of you after a while.” Jamie tried to placate her, but it wasn’t working. And why wasn’t Tabitha commending her on her weight loss? Her cocktail of well, cocktails, the occasional powder play with India and practically zero solid intake had her at the exact weight they wanted. So what if she was a little pale? What the hell were makeup artists for?
“Yes, darling, but still. It's your job to look your best at all times. Too many late nights, perhaps?” Tabitha wasn’t stupid. She was all too familiar with the cycle.
Pulling her cardigan tighter still, Jamie racked her brain for some way to get out of being in trouble. But all retorts eluded her. In fact, her mind was one vacuous bubble.
“Well, darling. I just want to make sure there isn’t anything going on in your life that you might need to talk to me about? If it’s just a few late nights, we can take care of that. I want you in bed by ten every weeknight from now on, okay? Oh, and one more thing …” Here it is. Tabitha always leaves the best for last. “George said you were looking a bit puffy in the shots, too.” And annihilation commences. “You might want to eliminate gluten, or just carbs in general. Of course, I want you to eat healthily, but just make sure it’s not causing any water retention. The camera adds enough pounds as it is, we don’t want to add any more.” Translation: ‘I don’t care what you have to do to lose weight. Just make sure you lose it but also look incredible.’ The bottom half of Tabitha’s face moulded like Play-Doh into a faux smile.
“Oh my god, that’s IT.” Jamie stood up abruptly, casting off her cardigan, as something inside her snapped. “Look at me. Do I look bloated to you? I’m a size four. There’s no room to be bloated. Even my daughter has more curves than I do. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t live avoiding the sun, and food, and getting older. This is insane.”
“Jamie darling. Calm down.” Tabitha didn’t tolerate outbursts unless she was the one doing the bursting. “You know how this industry is. We’re selling dreams. If you looked like everyone else, you wouldn’t be getting paid. It’s my job to give you the clients’ feedback, so they keep booking you.”
“I’m sorry Tabitha, I just can’t take this nonsense anymore. It’s not right. My daughter eats more than I do. I’m scared to sit in the sun in case I get wrinkles. One day I will get wrinkles and that should be okay too. This industry is messed up. Looking this way isn’t sustainable. Not if you’re not twenty anymore. And I’m not twenty, nor are most women I know.”
Tabitha’s already high eyebrows arched as high as the Botox would allow. “Sweetie, you’re obviously having a bad day or something. Why don’t you just go home and have a lie down? You’re an amazing model. We’ve been working together for years. But as you get older, it just gets harder. I’m just trying to keep you working for as long as possible. I’m thinking about you, poppet, that’s all.”
Thinking about how much more money you can make out of me before you spit me out more like.
“Actually, no. Look around; so many agencies are adding diversity to their roster; curve models, mature models, trans models. Isn’t it time you got with the programme? This industry is changing; it has to, and so must we.”
Tabitha’s left eye started to twitch. The scarlet flush around her neck and chest gave away what her botoxed brow could not.
“Tokenism. This is all just pressure from social media, but that’s not what the big clients want. Plus, those models rarely get paid the top rates. You’re either a model or you’re not, and being a model means looking a certain way.”
“Well if that’s the case, then I don’t want it anymore.” Picking up her cardigan from the red sofa, heart racing, Jamie suddenly felt a surge of empowerment. She’d wanted to talk back to Tabitha for years. Talking to Kate had finally given her the strength to stand up for herself; the courage to find another path. One which didn’t involve full-blown starvation, or death—she’d heard the stories. “I’m sorry Tabitha. I’m done. I'll work out any commitments I have, but then I’m out.”
“Darling, if you walk out you know there won’t be any coming back.” Tabitha’s face had stopped trying to smile.
“Perfect. I don’t want to come back.” And with that Jamie marched out of the office, past the other bookers who she couldn’t help but notice were smiling discreetly, hoping not to be seen by Tabitha. Jamie finally had the nerve to say what so many others wanted to say, but rarely did.
Bursting through the door onto Cadogan Gardens, the warmth of summer hit Jamie. Turning her face up towards the sky and closing her eyes, she exhaled deeply for the second time that day.
Holy crap, she needed to call Kate. But Kate had gone straight to see family before she headed back to the island. Reaching into her bag, Jamie fished out her phone only to find several unopened messages. Karl. Shit. Karl. She’d forgotten all about Kate’s crazy antics.
Karl: Good to hear from you.
Yes, I’d love that. I’m away
this week but any day
next week is good. Let
me know and we can meet
at The Brasserie. Karl x
Jamie noticed he’d replied with a kiss, too. Shit. Fucking Kate. Fucking crazy, but ever so adorable Kate. What had she started? Oh god … her head was spinning; her life was spinning. Yup, she sure as hell was on a new path alright. One where she didn’t have a map. Suddenly, an image of Kate emerging from behind the black curtain and booking her surgery there and then entered her mind. She remembered feeling in awe of Kate’s decision to just go for it, and now she'd damn well done the same; taken control. It felt liberating, terrifying. Her blood was pumping fast around her body. She’d taken an almighty leap and now she just needed to grow some wings. God, she hoped the job with Nigel worked out.
Furiously tapping onto her phone, she composed a new text.
Jamie: Hey what you up to?
Need to burn off some
frustration!! Wanna help?
Almost immediately, ‘Beep. Beep.’
Cameron: Of course!
Just finished a meeting.
I can leave now. Where
you at?
Jamie: Just leaving the
agency. Meet me upstairs
at The Bluebird. Heading
there now.
Cameron: On my way!
Jamie stopped by the roadside on the Kings Road. Resisting the urge to do any window shopping, she held out a hand to hail the next approaching black cab and jumped in. “Bluebird Please.” London traffic was appalling and the cab ride took ten minutes just to go down the road. Pulling up outside the Chelsea institution, Jamie handed the driver a ten-pound note, shouting—“Keep the change”—as she jumped out and headed into the building.
Perching on a high stool around the large upstairs bar, Jamie wasted no time in ordering a Porn Star Martini for herself and a Mezcal Old Fashioned for Cameron, adding, “Can you make those with double shots please?” Flashing her wide infectious smile at the young barman who grinned back coyly. When Jamie needed a distraction, two things did the trick—men and alcohol, and the two combined were simply magic. But Jamie couldn’t help but worry what might happen if this job didn’t materialise. She’d just quit her career for goodness sake. Taking out her phone, she decided it was time to take control, in every aspect of her life.
Jamie: Hi Nigel, this is
Jamie, Kate's friend.
She told me about your
amazing collection and
that you need some help.
I am the queen of
organisation and just
adore beautiful fabulous
things. Can we jump on
a call soon to discuss
further?
Just as the barman returned with the drinks, in walked Cameron—perfect timing. As he strode into the room, Jamie’s stomach did a quick tumble with excitement. The other punters in the bar followed with their eyes as his tall, athletic frame walked over to her, a cheeky smile planted on his face. Damn, he looked hot, even in simple blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt. In fact, he looked even better by day, as she realised it had usually been after-dark when they met. She could see the golden glow of his sun-kissed skin, further accentuating his incredible take-me-to-bed blue eyes. As much as she’d started to tire of him, Jamie hadn’t grown tired of the chemistry. As she stood up to greet him, Cameron lifted her off the floor in his strong embrace and planted a kiss on her lips. All eyes were upon them.
“Got you a drink. Want to do a shot, too?” Jamie twirled a curl of her hair around her fingers, as she gazed intently into his eyes. Conversations, which were thin on the ground, often centred around alcohol.
“Sure, I’m down. Don’t have to be back in the office until tomorrow, anyway.” Sitting down on the stool next to Jamie, Cameron placed one hand on the base of her back, fingers reaching down, just above her G-string line. Jamie raised an eyebrow at the barman, who immediately rushed over, but didn’t seem quite as jovial since Cameron’s arrival. “Two B-52’s please.” Jamie hadn’t eaten, and this was basically three meals in one.
Jamie’s mind started to blur as the vodka from the first drink quickly reached her bloodstream, especially since she’d cut back on her drinking. Sitting this close to Cameron, the rest of the bar faded into insignificance. Her heart was still racing, but this time for another reason. As the shots arrived, Jamie dipped one of her long fingers into her shot glass and sucked the sweet liquid slowly off her finger. Cameron watched intently. Then, taking her finger again, she ran the wet digit over Cameron’s lips before knocking back the lot. As the heat rushed through her throat and into her body, Jamie leaned closer and whispered, “I need to go to the little girl’s room; I’ll be about two minutes.” And with a knowing smile to Cameron, Jamie slinked off her stool and swanned deliberately across the bar, swinging her hips as if she were on a runway, and straight into the Ladies. She was relieved that there was neither an attendant nor any other women inside. Taking the last cubicle at the end of the long room, Jamie bolted the door and started to unbutton her white jeans when she suddenly heard footsteps and a deep sexy voice whisper.
“Jamie?”
“At the end,” Jamie whispered back loud enough to be heard and unbolted the door, pulling Cameron inside with her. The second the door was bolted, their lips struck each other with force, their bodies so close they could feel themselves fusing together. Cameron was an amazing kisser … Jamie practically devoured his mouth, biting his lip, and tugging at his hair, all at the same time. His hands were already inside her vest top and suddenly he’d yanked it up to reveal her small but perky braless breasts. His mouth came off her lips, licking and sucking as he went south, taking turns to lick and suck each nipple until they had hardened and sprung out like torpedoes. Jamie grabbed a mop of his hair and yanked him back up to her face, attacking his lips again, before grabbing his belt and quickly unbuckling it.
Staring directly into his eyes, she took one hand and lunged it into his jeans, grabbing hold of his cock above his underwear, cupping its long hard shaft. “Fuck you’re horny,” he mouthed before going in for another assault on her lips. As they kissed hard, their bodies charged with passion, Jamie dove her hand inside Cameron’s pants and slowly but surely began teasing his already wet penis as she ran her fingers around the rim, then down the shaft, playing around his balls, and back up again, as she started to build up momentum. “Take my jeans off!” Jamie was ready to burst.
“Yes, ma’am.” Cameron was only too happy to oblige. Jamie surrendered his penis as she allowed him to peel down her tight white jeans, whilst she took out a condom from the side zip in her bag. As he reached the bottom of her legs, she took one foot out of her stilettos at a time, removing the jeans and then putting back on the heels—she didn’t want to be barefoot in the loos.
“Now sit down.” She closed the seat of the toilet, one of the few that still had a lid in London. Cameron obeyed. In just her vest top, G-string, and heels Jamie straddled gracefully across his lap, with one slender leg on either side, holding a plié position like a trained ballerina, hovering ever so intentionally above his rock-hard member. Taking the condom package in her mouth, Jamie gently bit the corner of the wrapper to open it and pulled it out. With the other hand, she slowly caressed Cameron’s erect penis as he grabbed the centre of her minuscule panties and pulled them to one side, trying to pull her down onto him. “Steady on, cowboy,” Jamie purred, as he stared lustfully up at her.
“I believe you’re the cowboy today, missy.” He grinned just as Jamie adeptly slid the condom onto him and carefully edged it down the shaft, before launching straight down onto his hard cock, letting it penetrate her. Instinctively, she placed her feet up against the wall, granting even deeper access. Cameron placed his hands on her waist and assisted as she manoeuvred herself up and down, harder and harder. It was an incredible lower body workout. Jamie couldn’t help but think of the multiple benefits.
Suddenly, the main door opened and two women entered, chattering and giggling. Jamie sniggered as she put one hand across Cameron’s mouth to stifle his moans, whilst she slowed down her movements without stopping. She enjoyed the added thrill of being caught. She also liked the feeling of power she had over men. They were such simple creatures. He was practically putty in her hands right now… or rather, a helpless cock in her powerful loins, as Kate would put it.
Once the coast was clear, Jamie took her hand off his mouth, which had been taking little bites at her fingers, and held on tightly behind his back. His eyes glazed over as he stared up at Jamie. “You’re a fucking sexy bitch, you know that?” Jamie smiled. She knew. Knowing no one could hear them, Jamie began to move faster again, up and down, up and down, thrusting her hips as she arched and curved her lower back in order to create the necessary friction she needed to stimulate herself. Her thigh muscles burned as they held her in position, but she kept going until spasms of electricity shot through her, her thighs finally trembling from their workout. Not waiting for him to finish, she lifted off the delicious, and rather flushed Cameron and back into her jeans, as his hands and lips continued to grasp at any inch of her skin still left exposed.
“Where are you going? We’re not done.” Unbolting the door, Jamie walked out, giggling, leaving Cameron in the cubicle as she washed her hands, and headed out the washroom. Just as she was exiting, another woman entered, seeing Cameron as he emerged, her face looked alarmed. “Sorry, took a wrong turn.” Cameron laughed and she couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t every day you set eyes on a beautiful specimen like that.
Jamie was standing just outside the main room above the stairs, ready to go down, just as Cameron burst through the doors. “You left me in the Ladies.” He was pouting but Jamie just sniggered. Clocking the stairwell going up towards the ‘private access only’ section, Cameron immediately grabbed one of Jamie’s hands and pulled her up the stairs, pushing her against the wall the moment they were out of sight. “Fuck you drive me crazy, Miss King.” As he launched on her lips again, Jamie’s hands reached out behind his head. Grabbing onto his hair, whilst she lifted one long leg and wrapped it tightly around him, bringing him in closer. Their bodies pressed up against each other, she could feel his racing heart against hers as it pounded through his top as their tongues explored deep within each other's mouths … Jamie had planned to leave, but in the heat of the moment, it was hard to resist such yummy excitement. “I’m starving,” Cameron announced, pulling away momentarily, “How about we continue this elsewhere?”