Not In My Wildest Dreams (Dream Series) Read Online Free PDF

days in my head, I took several paces, turned, posed, and walked back to the blonde.
    She looked me up and down through narrowed eyes. “Now with me.”
    I put my arm out for her and she took it. We marched, I stood back to let her pose, I did my thing, she took my arm and we marched back.
    “Hmm,” she huffed. “I think they got it right this time. See you Friday.”
    And as quickly as she arrived, she turned and left. The tailor went back to working on my pants as if a six-foot tornado hadn’t just spun around this space. “What the hell was that?” I said.
    The tailor shook his head, “Rebecca Campbell. One of a kind.”
    On Friday, I showed up an hour early to the address William gave me for the runway show. After meeting Rebecca Campbell for less than two minutes the other day, I was in no way gonna piss her off. But wouldn’t you know it, she was a full two hours late to the event causing quite a buzz among the coordinators and other models. When she finally showed, she was clearly drunk and her eyes were red. I started to freak out. She was tanked and if she fell, surely everyone would blame me. I’d be back on the highway to Colorado before you could say ‘runway.’ Her manager was fuming, and whisked her off muttering about needing a miracle worker.
    We ran the dress rehearsal runs, but Rebecca wasn’t on the stage with me. I had to make like she was there which was so beyond awkward. I was starting to panic, but William told me I’d done well, that Rebecca was a “consummate professional,” and we’d be fine. I had nothing to go by, so I just prayed for the best at show time.
    Not sure what they did to clean her up. A lot of Visine for her eyes, I guessed. And I could smell the coffee and mint mixed with booze on her breath. Ultimately, the show went off without a hitch. Rebecca played the crowds like a pro, even giving me the center stage for my own applause. I had mixed feelings about the whole thing. There was a certain excitement about walking in front of people applauding and hundreds of flashbulbs going off in my face, but it was also rather terrifying, because all of those flashes made you rather blind. I thought back to the photo session with Pierre taking the test shots, and as awkward as that was, it was more comfortable than the live show.
    After the hoopla, back in my own clothes, I was talking to a few of the other models about heading out to get something to eat. I was starving and totally up for it when Rebecca’s manager came up to me.
    “Jack Stevens. Nice to meet you formally. William was right with this one. Gotta hand it to the man,” she said, grinning. “Frannie DiMarco,” she said, introducing herself, sticking her hand out to me, which I took and shook. “I’m Miss Campbell’s manager. Do you have a sec?”
    I looked around to see the other models stare. Some were clearly pissed, a couple were in awe. “Uh, sure,” I muttered. “I’ll catch you guys another time,” I said to the group and followed Frannie to a quiet corner.
    “So, William says you’re living in Hoboken?” she asked. Man these model industry people sure were interested in my living conditions.
    “Yeah.”
    “Do you like it?”
    I scoffed, “No. It’s sh—I mean, I’ve stayed in nicer places.”
    “What is your lease like?”
    “I’m week to week.”
    “Did you secure next week yet?”
    I shook my head ‘no’. “I usually sign for the next week on Saturdays.”
    She nodded. “I have an idea. Would you mind a roommate?”
    “No, I guess not,” I shrugged, confused. Surely she wasn’t suggesting…
    She turned on her heel and I got the notion I was supposed to follow her, so I did.
    I quickly caught up to her and she led us into a lounge where Rebecca sat on a bright yellow leather sofa. She had small headphones on her head and a small device that looked like it was playing a cassette tape, with the word WALKMAN scrawled on the front of it, sitting on her lap. The music was blaring