Not So Model Home - By David James Page 0,23

salon in Beverly Hills do your hair. He’s refused to style some of the biggest names in Hollywood, he’s that good. ”

“Shit. Sorry. I guess I am lucky.”

“You don’t know how lucky you are. You are going to look so great, your life is never going to be the same again.”

Little did I know how right he was going to be.

I got my hair styled and I had to agree, in the hands of a talented stylist, a lump of clay could be made into a masterpiece. In fact, it was a revelation that made me deliriously happy, then angry for all the years and thousands of dollars I’d spent thinking I couldn’t improve my appearance any more than what the gods gave me. My problem is that I was hiring amateurs. I looked in the mirror as Sebastian finished up on me and I looked at my reflection—it struck me that I wasn’t a bad-looking woman. Or, at least now I wasn’t. The reality was that there was always great potential there. It just took someone like Sebastian to give me enough style to make me shine.

“There,” Sebastian said, giving me a hand mirror so I could admire myself up close. “You look like Jane Lynch from Glee. Sexy, smart, not too polished. Natural. Plus, it helps play up your nose.”

“My nose?” I asked like a bleary-eyed child. “Play it up?”

“Oh, yes. I like your nose. Very come-fuck-me.”

I never thought about a nose inviting fornication, but I suppose it was possible. Over the years, I’ve heard of guys getting turned on by everything from writhing in custard to wearing certain wristwatches. Yes, wristwatches. The right kind of wristwatch can make some guys cum. Go figure.

“Come . . . ?”

“Your nose. It is very sexy. Very virile, aristocratic.”

I put my hand on Sebastian’s arm. “You find my nose aristocratic? When I think of aristocratic noses, I think of pointy, sharp ones like the British.”

“Well, then, Amanda, you haven’t spent enough time in Europe. The continent. The French. The Italians. Germans. All big. You are beautiful, now go and make love to the camera.”

As I was escorted away by Jacob, I had to ask the question: “Is Sebastian straight?”

“Yes, he is. His girlfriend is absolutely stunning,” Jacob added.

“Does she have a big nose?”

Jacob thought for a moment. “I don’t really remember. But he seemed to like you.”

“Nooooo, Jacob! He was just being nice.”

“No, I’ve seen him style lots of women. He doesn’t flirt with them like he did with you.”

I thought no more about what Jacob said for the time being. I got into my dress and when I was squeezed into it, they made me up. I stole another look in the mirror and, Jesus, if I didn’t look fantastic. It was a whole new way of thinking for me.

I got to the set and they were just finishing up shooting Keith MacGregor. Keith was attired in a black silky shirt unbuttoned practically to his waist, showing off his hairless chest and tan. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, his padded crotch. Now, I’m no slut, but I have seen a number of male boxes in my time, and I can tell when one is not all-natural. Keith’s crotch wasn’t anything to sneeze at, but it seemed more than prominent, compliments of the stylist staff. I wonder if they were serving kielbasa at the lunch. I mean, it ran a few inches down his right leg.

As for the rest of him, Keith had that relaxed, easygoing presence in front of the camera and acted like he spent all his life in front of one. He probably did just one take, just like Elizabeth Taylor.

My television debut was a little different. I didn’t even have to talk. All I had to do was smile and turn toward the camera with my body. But I couldn’t get it right. Take after take, and I couldn’t act natural. Go figure . . . a reality show and I couldn’t be real.

The assistant director, Matthew, finally spoke up, “Amanda, just stop trying to be a character. Be yourself.”

“Easy for you to say,” I replied. “I’m still trying to figure out that one.”

Eventually, the cameraman either got the promo footage he wanted or he just plain gave up. He released me to get into my own personal swimsuit, which apparently wasn’t so hideous, so I was allowed to head out to the pool area. In hindsight, I should have turned back right then and there. But