Colette and Davy
"Well hello there, Colette, you do speak English, right?"
"Yes, David. Davy. This is a new type of job for me… I do not know exactly how to begin. If you ask me something about myself, maybe?"
Nah, don't make a move yet… too obvious. There's a bit more time to get to that. "Okay, that sounds groovy. Why don't you tell me why you went into modeling?" He was surprised to see her smile falter.
"I was going to go to university, to study. I wanted to become une professeur. Forgive me, to become a teacher, of small children."
Davy couldn't hide his surprise. "Really? A teacher? That's a bit different from posing for pictures, isn't it."
"Yes. But when my papa became ill he could not work, and I came to Paris to find a job so I could send money. I made a friend who knew someone from modeling, and as the Americans say, 'one thing led the way to another'."
Drawn in, Davy asked without thinking, "So your papa, he got better?"
"No, his illness was not one to get better from. I'm sorry, this is not the right thing to talk about. It has made you sad."
"No, Colette, it just made me think of me dad. He's not as young as he used to be. I went to America to make a name for myself, and left the family at home in Manchester."
"I think they must be very proud of you, yes?" She smiled gently at him. "So, we have found something in common. We both have loved our papas very much. I am glad to meet you, Davy."
Davy found himself extending his hand to be shaken, not (probably) slapped as often happened. "I'm glad to meet you too, Colette."
Jaclyn and Peter
"Hi Jaclyn, I'm Peter. Not sure what else I'm supposed to say."
"What do you say usually when you meet a girl?"
"Uhm… I don't know if that's a good idea to say right now."
"Peter, you are blushing! I think maybe you make jokes because you are shy."
"Maybe… I dunno."
"When I first had a fashion show, I was very shy about the people watching."
"Seriously? You're beautiful, what could make you shy about that?"
"I was afraid I would trip, or start to laugh. And I would look at others and be afraid I would not be as good as them."
"I can dig that. That's why I learned to play so many instruments… I figured if somebody was way better than me on one of them, I'd just play a different one. Pretty lame, I guess."
"Sorry, what is 'lame'?"
"Stupid."
"Oh. Not so stupid, really. You can play many instruments, because of being shy. You tell jokes, too. Me, now I think of music in my head, when I walk out or pose. It makes everything easier."
"I can dig that. Oh — dig means understand. Y'know, I think this might just work out this week."
"I think so too. We can both be shy, and not tell our secret ways of beating it."
Michelle and Micky
"I know who you are, Micky."
That was a surprise. "Really? Bob says nobody in France has heard of us."
"I go to England for fashion weeks. You are very well known there."
"So, what do you think of us?"
"Your music… I prefer not to listen to pop rock and roll."
"Oh. Oh well. What do you like?"
"I like blues, and soul music. I very much like James Brown."
"Lady, we are gonna get along just fine."
Juliette and Mike
When Mike nodded a terse hello, the shades that had been perched on top of his head fell neatly into place.
"Look, we don't have to waste too much time on this. Fake vacation, fake chase, fake sightseeing dates. They told you all about that, right?"
"Oui. It is for your television show. It is not real."
"Great, okay then. Nice to meetcha and all, but I got some other things to take care of before tomorrow. Juliette, right?"
"Yes, Juliette. Do not worry, Mike, I am not looking for Romeo."
He'd been halfway out of his chair, but sat down again. "Now what made you say that?"
"You are worried about something, n'est-ce pas? Is it not true? Sometimes maybe the women who are on your show cannot tell 'fake' from real, maybe they see something more when they do the scenes like we will be doing?"
"Oh, that. No, wasn't even thinking of that."
"Ah, then it is the woman, Bonnie, who brought us here."
His eyes narrowed behind the dark lenses, and he looked over at Genie. She was absorbed in conversation with Pam, who had just returned.
"Some people talk too much."
The tall blonde shook her head, smiling. "No, it was not that. It was your words, your look when we came in. You care for her, yes?"
"And that's your business, why?" This whole thing was a dumbass idea.
"It is not my business. But I understand. When the world pays to look at us, it is hard to have our own lives. We must pretend that because we have what we wanted, it is enough. But it is not, not truly."
Mike slid his shades up on top of his head and looked closely at Juliette. "You always talk this way to strangers?"
The smile didn't waver. "Not always. But sometimes I cannot stop myself." After a pause she added, "If you want, I will tell Genie that I cannot do this job, that I have discovered a conflict of schedule. She will find another 'lovely tall girl'."
Mike could feel a smile pulling at him from inside. "Nah, that's okay. Bonnie'd have a fit if the schedule got thrown off. Besides, you're right about all of it. It's probably safer to keep someone like you on our side."
The four girls collected their schedules from Genie and left.
"Okay boys, you're free until tomorrow at noon. We'll meet in the lobby for transport to the location."
"Where's that gonna be?" Micky wanted to know.
"Your guess is as good as mine, luv."
Business done, the guys got up to leave. Genie and Pam stood at the end of the table, looking like co-conspirators.
"Hold on a minute, Michael, can we have a word?" Genie called after Mike. "Pam's got a question for you."
He returned to the table, but the shades came down. "I hope this won't take long."
"Nope, just one question."
"And what's that?" He eyed Pam with an air of exaggerated patience.
"Do you or don't you agree, that ten days in Paris without romance should be considered a crime?"
They barely caught him as he jumped up and strode toward the door.
"Five minutes, Michael," Genie insisted as she dragged on his arm.
"Well they better make sense," he warned.
Five minutes later, Mike's plans for Paris had been altered dramatically for the better. Though it killed him to admit it, Bob had been right. Some things did demand "a woman's touch."
