The Ruin (Convenience #3) - Stella Gray Page 0,21

normally I just roll with it. But do you have any idea what it was like having you lead me on for weeks thinking I had the gig, only to get crushed in front of hundreds of industry people at the gala? That night was like a fairy tale for me.” My voice cracks with emotion, and I have to take a breath. “But after you made that announcement I just felt so…naïve, and fucked with, and—and publicly humiliated. And like a complete failure. Like how stupid could I be, thinking I’d actually get to work with Maxilene? Thinking all my dreams were going to come true just because you said they would? God.”

My breath is hitching in my chest, and my eyes are stinging. Luka puts his hands on my shoulders, looking down at me with a gentle gaze I barely recognize.

“You are,” he says softly, “an incredible, strong, insanely beautiful woman. You have the drive and the talent to achieve all your dreams, and even if you don’t succeed at everything you put your heart into, you’ll never be a failure. You just have to keep getting up when you fall.

“But I know you already know this, because it’s what’s kept you going all those years before I even came along. So don’t sell yourself short. If you ask me, Maxilene doesn’t deserve you. I wouldn’t have gotten your hopes up just to be cruel. I believed in you. I still do.”

Choked up with emotion, I clear my throat. “Thanks,” I whisper.

Luka looks like he wants to say more, but instead he releases my shoulders and backs up a few steps. “Sleep well,” he says, heading down the hall with Mr. Kibbles following.

Feeling lighter—hopeful—I float back to my room and climb into bed, replaying Luka’s words in my mind. Somewhere deep down, I know he isn’t lying. Maybe he wasn’t the man I thought he was after all. Maybe I haven’t given him enough of a chance. That stops now.

Because if everything he just told me is true, then there’s a lot more between us than I’d been willing to acknowledge. And as for our relationship?

It just might be worth saving.

Brooklyn

Chapter 8

The next day comes too fast, and before I know it I’m standing beside Luka at the top of the empty runway that I’ll be walking down in just a few short hours. It’s U-shaped, with stadium seating on either side and an additional double row of chairs arranged back-to-back in the center for the heaviest hitting VIPs. Warm, even light spills down from the truss overhead, illuminating the white flooring of the U, while soft black fabric drapes the chairs and the walls.

Adding to the glitz are glittering black disco balls, suspended from the ceiling along with strings of fairy lights. It’s so elegant, you can’t even tell we’re in a converted Central Street warehouse in north Chicago. Everything sparkles against the black and I have to snap a quick photo and upload it to IG, even though I’m starting to hyperventilate a little.

“Oh my God, why did I agree to this?” I can hear the tremble in my voice.

“You can do it, and you will,” Luka tells me. “Besides, this should be old hat for you.”

“That’s exactly the problem! I haven’t done this in forever,” I say, pulse kicking.

Clasping my hands in front of me, I take a deep breath and will the butterflies inside to settle down. There’s plenty of time before the show starts, but I’m seriously doubting my ability to hold my nerves in check until then. I might need a drink to calm down. Maybe two.

Not really, though. I know plenty of models who like to work under the influence, and a few who can’t even show up to a gig without it, but I’ve never been one of them.

The thing about walking in a show is, it’s live. Hundreds of people are watching, and even though they’re there to see the clothes, one step out of line and every pair of eyes in the entire venue is on you—and God forbid you trip. I knew a model once who fell backwards onto her ass at a show in Beijing, and she never walked a runway again. Shooting for print is a piece of cake in comparison. Only the best photos are ever seen by the public. You lose your balance, or your look isn’t perfect, and the photo gets deleted in a millisecond. On the runway, cameras are flashing so