Diva in Disguise Chapter 11

This photo-shoot was going to be a big mistake! A connection between Mistie and Jennifer appeared an inevitable result and that could only be a disaster for the former’s career. Apprehensively I awaited my impending downfall.

“Oh, yes?” I croaked, attempting to put on a brave face as I prepared myself to hear the coming revelation.

It didn’t materialise!

Instead Tam’s conjecture was baffling. “Vera Ralston!”

What was he talking about? I’d never heard of Vera whoever the woman was.

“Vera who?”

“Ralston. You know! From the movies” he clarified, condescendingly.

I was so relieved that I didn’t object to his patronising manner.

Meanwhile he prattled on. “A wonderful actor for her generation. Possessed of a quite spectacular figure… not unlike your own, if I may say so. She had been a professional skater before she arrived in Hollywood, I believe. Very underrated in my humble opinion. She never had the success she deserved.”

I could have hugged the little man. However, I tried my hardest not to let my feelings show.

My companion continued to enthuse, ignorant of my churning emotions. “I actually had the pleasure of meeting her years ago. Oh, my dear! She was so gracious. Of course she is of a different generation, but looking at you now, I find the likeness remarkable.”

“Fancy that.” I was all smiles. “You’re very kind.”

“Not at all. It’s a privilege to be reminded of such a lovely lady. I’m so looking forward to working with you.”

The purpose of the photo session was to trumpet the merits of a particular brand of vitamin pills. I would be required to array myself in a range of lingerie which drew attention to the curvature of my upper body. That was fine by me, but I was less than impressed by the slogan that was to be used alongside my picture, 'Skinny girls are not glamour girls' with the subtitle ‘Add glamorous curves to your figure’.

Such sexist sentiments were all too commonplace in those unenlightened times, unfortunately. For myself I found them offensive. The thought occurred to me that without the regime of ‘vitamins’ to which I’d been subjected by my parent, I would have no curves worth the mention. The irony of that paradox was something to be savoured.

Once in the studio itself I collected what I was to wear from the rail and completed the first of my changes of clothing behind the obligatory screen. Checking in the mirror, I was confident that my figure had sufficient of the required undulations, glamorous or otherwise, to portray the desired message. Attired in an elegant satin slip, I was ready to start, but where was the photographer, Carl or whatever he was called? I covered up the bareness of my shoulders with a wrap and trotted back to Tam’s office to let him know.

I tapped on the door and entered. The diminutive individual I was in search of was nowhere to be seen, which was tiresome. In his place was seated a disconcertingly familiar figure from my past. I recognised the barrel-chested guy instantly as Tam’s partner, who went by the soubriquet ‘Roddy’. I ought to have reckoned that wherever one of the pairing was, the other was likely to be found. Here lay another risk of my cover being blown. The only course open to me was to try to brazen things out.

The big guy had draped himself over one of the desks. He was examining his manicure and idly swinging a foot when I walked in.
“I’m looking for Tam” I explained as calmly as I could, fighting down my rising panic and struggling to control the tremor in my voice. My natural instinct would have been to escape from the man’s company and quickly!

“Well, what have we here? My, my, aren’t you just something else” boomed Roddy. “As cute as lace pants, to quote Mr Chandler! Stay a while, sweetheart, why don’t you? Tam’s sure to be back any minute.”

Not knowing what else to do I stood stock still, turning my face away to delay the awful moment when he would see through my disguise.
Next moment a large hand was placed upon my butt. “And talking of lace pants, or should I say panties, may I compliment you on your choice of briefs! Brief indeed.” This last was accompanied by a playful slap on my derrière.

“Aah!” I started nearly out of my skin. “What the…?”

“I never can resist such a nice round behind” he chortled. His hand had remained in place and was now fondling that portion of my body. My initial reaction was to freeze, too shocked to resist or run away. Then I recalled how Madeleine had once described the lecherous individual to me. Apparently, he ‘would screw anything on two legs’. If that meant his orientation was ‘bi’, here was a possible out.

I stepped away to free myself and half-turned to let him have the benefit of my profile. Under lazy eyelids, I gave the sultriest look I could muster and dropping my wrap to the floor, struck a dramatic pose.

Whether my playing up in this way was the reason, recognition had definitely been postponed for the interim. Roddy responded to my attempt at seduction exuberantly. He gave a wolf-howl then adopted a bear-like stance. How the situation would have developed further is hard to say but for the present, Roddy certainly was not looking at my face!

What might have followed probably would not pass conjecture but fortunately, a timely interruption prevented the tête-à-tête getting out of hand. Tam appeared in the doorway bearing a mortified expression. No doubt having heard some of what had passed, he looked about to die of shame.

“Roddy, for heaven’s sake!” he expostulated. “What in the name of all that’s diabolical are you doing here?”

The person so addressed stopped in his tracks and turning to face his partner, calmly shrugged his shoulders. “I just happened by. Not pleased to see me?”

“D… d… don’t you realise who this is?”

Shamefacedly, I tried to look demure while Roddy looked me carefully up and down. “I can’t say that I do, but… I like what I see!” His hands cupped my rear end as he pulled me into an embrace.

“St… st... stop that!” Tam spluttered. “This is Mistie Morgan, the model. In person. She’s here for a shoot.”

Under the little man’s red-faced glare, his companion released me and with an air of boredom went back to examining his manicure.

“What you must think of us, Miss Morgan.” The overwhelming nature of Tam’s embarrassment luckily masked my own. “I’m so sorry. Please ignore my associate’s rudeness. He cannot see clearly without his spectacles, which he never will wear! I’m sure that he thought you were someone else, or he would never have taken such a liberty.”

Tam’s attempt at an excuse was a miracle of invention I had to admire, but the idea that Roddy thought he recognised me wasn’t one I wanted to hear. Instead of concern over my lost dignity, I felt disquiet over whether I had been recognised as Jennifer.

“Oh, life is too short for me to be offended.” I pretended an air of indifference I didn’t feel. Then to Roddy “Actually… who did you think I was?”

The burly guy was unabashed. “Why, I’ve no idea. As a guess, I’d have called you Miss Perfectly Good-body, but I can’t wait to know you better!”

At this Tam’s face took on a brighter shade of puce. “Go! Just go!” he squeaked. “I’ll deal with you later.”

The big man leisurely got to his feet. “Promises!” he leered. Grinning unashamedly he walked over to the door, winked conspiratorially at me, and was gone.

The little man continued with his apologies. “He has a heart of gold, I assure you, but unfortunately one or two personality issues. I do what I can.”

I thought it best to smooth things over. “It can be difficult to balance the demands of friendship with business practice. But as the proprietor here you will have had plenty of experience in these matters.”

“Oh, I’m the manager, my dear, not the owner. But I do find it most satisfying that Mrs Bell gives me a totally free hand.”

“Mrs Bell?” Could I not escape hearing that name?

“You must have heard of Madeleine Bell. She owns several thriving enterprises in these parts. All of them are at the top of the tree. It’s quite an honour to be allowed to represent her” the small guy simpered affectedly.

“I’m sure!” I encouraged his self-congratulation as best I could, but I was unable to dispel the belief that what he regarded as his good fortune might prove to be my bad luck. I wished I was anywhere else but it was too late to back out now.

Madeleine Bell! My intention had been to have as little to do with that lady as possible. However, I seemed to be caught in a web of intrigue where I was being drawn nearer and nearer to her. Resolving to concentrate on the job in hand I tried to shrug off that numbing idea.

In the event, the photo-shoot itself proved uneventful. No other ghosts from my past turned up to complicate life. As often occurred, being under the lights with the lens focused on me had the effect of making me come alive. It wasn’t that I was naturally attention-seeking, of course, but I have to admit that I became something of a diva once the camera was pointed in my direction. I postured and deported myself to Carl the photographer’s content, even including the sultry pose which had had a dramatic effect on Roddy!

Although the session went well, I left the studio with an uneasy feeling. Anxious to preserve my anonymity as I was, I reckoned that I had been counting too much on my luck. I resolved to be more cautious in future. After alighting from the cab I walked the short distance back to my car without incident. I removed the blonde wig and adjusted my make-up, my salon experience making this sort of transition routine. I changed my top for one less eye-catching and with my dark curls nicely fluffed out again, returned to Mom’s house hopefully without exciting comment from the neighbours.

There was only a short interval before I would need to head out again for the bar, so I showered and fixed myself a bite to eat. I guessed that Saturday nights would be the busiest of the week and from Alma’s hints knew they were something special. Accordingly I spent longer than usual in front of the vanity mirror, making sure my hair and make-up were perfect. Well, it gives a girl confidence to know she’s looking her best, even this type of girl!

Regarding what I should wear, I knew that whichever of the workplace’s showstopper outfits I would be asked to change into was sure to be quite something. I was up for the challenge, no matter what. It helped to know that Alma was on my side and I have to admit that I found the prospect of all that glamour exciting. For the present, jeans and t-shirt would be fine. I rummaged through my closet for the latter, but I found nothing I liked. However, I came across an alternative, a skinny rib sweater that would serve just as well. Holding it against me I could see that it would be very tight, drawing attention to my boobs. But why not? It would be fun to see how far I could make Adrian’s jaw drop!

A photo session often brought the mischievous side of my nature and on this occasion a wayward idea had begun to take hold in the back of my mind. That morning I’d been sorting through a pile of long forgotten clothing. Among it was a lingerie set which Mom had bought for me to wear on my first real date with a boy. Seeing it brought back a host of memories. What a scary evening that had been! In a glossy white satin, the bra was a long-line style with pointy cups, a bullet bra no less.

Curiosity took hold as I wondered if I could still get into it. I adjusted the straps to give me as much breathing space as possible and slipped my arms through. Fastening the hooks and eyes behind me was tricky but I managed, albeit on the loosest row. Yes it still fit me, just!

In fact I filled it out better that when I’d first worn it. Back then I’d had to insert little conical pads into the ends of the cups but now these were no longer required. My swollen breasts did the job admirably! With the tight ribbed top over them, the effect would be eye-catching, almost literally! I couldn’t wait to see the look on my manager’s face.