The Fate of the Muse - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,52
the crowd’s undivided attention.
She walked the last outfit slowly and dreamily, demurely sporting a spectacular shell pink bridal gown, her hair piled high on her head and adorned with a crown of handpainted silk roses. She looked ethereally beautiful, like a fairytale princess, and a hush fell over the room. The crowd finally recovered, standing to deliver another ovation.
“We leave here in about fifteen minutes,” Evie whispered in my ear, “Why don’t you go congratulate Shayla while I say hello to a few people.”
We went backstage after the show and parted ways. I turned around to see Evie almost imperceptibly shift into star mode as she stepped into a whirlwind of air kisses from her rich and fashionable friends. I headed for the dressing room to look for Shayla.
A young woman with a mane of glossy black curls intercepted me, placing a hand on my arm, “Give me one minute,” she said under her breath, looking around furtively. One glance into her sparkling golden brown eyes made me catch my breath. It was another one of them. I panicked, scanning the crowd for Evie.
“Please,” she said with intensity, “I’m here to warn you.”
I followed her around the corner of a dressing room screen.
“Watch out for Olivia,” she hissed.
“Who?”
She spoke quickly, in a Spanish accented voice, “Olivia knows everything. She was controlling Peter… The man was an imbicile! Twas all her idea, and she is using the Edwards family for her own purposes… But it backfired on them, didn’t it?”
I stepped back, alarmed.
She scrutinized me, searching my eyes, “You must be very powerful. You can do it too… can’t you? I can tell.”
“Do what?” I gasped.
“The visions, the seeing of what is yet to come.”
I was speechless that she guessed.
“I saw what Olivia has planned for you.” she said ominously.
“Has planned?”
She looked over her shoulder, “Do not trust her!”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it’s wrong– what they wanted to do… What she still wants.”
I stepped back, suspicious, “How do you know what they wanted?”
“Twas in my vision, Olivia was speaking to that Edwards man about watching you... about having you taken in Paris and brought to them again.”
I was dumbfounded. If she was telling the truth, and her visions were anything like mine, then the danger didn’t die with Peter. They were still going to try and control me. I had to tell Evie right away.
“Leave Paris at once! Stay away from Olivia,” she hissed at me.
I was horrified, “Who are you?”
“I’m Marissa.” She leaned forward intensely, “Do not breathe a word to Evelyn! Olivia mustn’t think for an instant that she suspects anything. Your phones are not secure, and neither is Evelyn’s plane, so do not use it… Evelyn thinks that Olivia is her friend, so she cannot know in advance. Your leaving must be a surprise to both of them.”
“Why?”
“If Olivia thinks that Evelyn suspects…” she looked genuinely afraid, and glanced over her shoulder again, “She can be very dangerous. I believe that she had Peter’s mother killed to gain control of him and the Edwards fortune.”
My eyes flew open, “Why should I believe you?”
Her eyes met mine, and something in them moved me, “Because it’s the truth. I have nothing to gain, and if I get caught–”
She turned on her heel and sped off just as Shayla and her friends rounded the corner, giggly and glowing with post-show relief.
“That was intense!” Shayla screeched, throwing her arms around me, “You’re not gonna believe what just happened!”
She went on to tell me breathlessly how her mention of surfing in the interviews had attracted the attention of a powerful booking agent. She had landed the lucrative and coveted Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition, and it was her absolute dream job.
“And get this! It’s a surfer themed edition and they’re shooting it in Hawaii!” she squeaked out the last word.
“Uh, great,” I said, still trying to process what I’d just heard.
Shayla’s hands dug into my arms, “They wanted a girl who could really shred in the pictures and not just stand there with the boards!” She jumped up and down, unable to contain her excitement, “They’ll be like, dudes there too! Surfers are gonna be like, props for the models!”
She threw her head back and laughed at the thought; I could tell it was sweet revenge for the years of condescension she’d gotten as the only girl surfer in Aptos.
“That’s great Shayla,” I was truly happy for her. At least things were looking up for one of us.