Brigette remarked.
'It does when 'is wife comes on the trip,' Lina said, lighting a cigarette.
'Remember? The old bag was there last year.'
'Maybe this year you'll get lucky.'
'Yeah,' Lina said ruefully. 'Lucky or unlucky - depending 'ow you look at it.'
'What does that mean?'
'I could go for him big time,' Lina said, eyes lighting up at the thought. 'We come from the same background an' all. He was born, like, five minutes away from me.
We got history.'
The limo drove across the tarmac to the plane, where Sheila Margolis waited to greet them. Sheila organized the shoot, watched every detail, and kept a beady eye on everyone. She was plump, friendly and well liked. The girls never crossed Sheila - they wouldn't dare. She was the one who made sure they weren't out partying all night, got their sleep and had plenty of energy for the gruelling shoot under the hot Bahamian sun. For six days she kept them under control, and on the last night everyone partied - including Sheila, who last year had been discovered at seven a.m. emerging from the room of a black basketball star, much to Lina's chagrin, because Lina had wanted him for herself, and couldn't imagine what he'd seen in the hardly glamorous Sheila.
'Hi, Sheil,' said Brigette, emerging from the limo and kissing Sheila on both cheeks.
'Hello, darlings,' Sheila greeted them, beaming.
Lina kissed her too. 'Where's Chris?' she asked casually.
'Already aboard,' Sheila said, adding a succinct, 'and keep your hands to yourself, Lina, dear. His wife's not with him this trip.'
'Ooooh,' Lina said, with a wicked laugh. 'There is a God.'
As they stood talking to Sheila, another limo drew up, and out got Annik Velderfon, the famous Dutch model. Annik was tall and wide-shouldered with a magnificent sweep of long blonde hair and a toothy smile. 'Hello, girls,' she said.
'Hello, Annik,' they chorused.
Annik began conferring with her driver, who was busy unloading her matching Vuitton luggage.
'She's got about as much personality as a dead salmon!' Lina muttered.
'Now, now,' chided Brigette, stifling a giggle.
'C'mon,' Lina said. 'Let's grab the best seats.'
Chris stood up when he saw them coming. Chris was English, a Rod Stewart clone but younger, with a cheeky smile and plenty of attitude. ' 'Ello, ladies,' he said, his thick Cockney accent matching Lina's. 'Fancy an 'orrible time?'
' 'Ello, darling,' said Lina, swooping in for a big intimate hug. 'I hear you left wifey-pie at home.'
'The old bird's pregnant,' Chris announced, stopping Lina in her tracks.
'Oh, that's just great!' she said, with a disappointed grimace. 'I 's'pose that means you're off limits again.'
'Sorry, darlin',' Chris said, chuckling. 'The butler did it!'
'Who else is coming today?' Brigette asked.
'There's you,' Chris said. 'Lina, Annik, Suzi, and… oh, yeah… Kyra.'
'Good, I like Kyra,' Lina said. 'She's got balls - just like me!'
'Where d'you keep 'em?' Chris asked, with a cheeky wink.
'Wouldn't you like to know?' Lina answered, with a flirty smile.
And so it starts, thought Brigette.
'I forgot,' Chris said. 'Didi Hamilton's on this trip too.'
'Shit!' Lina said, pulling a disgusted face. 'The poor man's me.'
'Don't be like that, darlin',' Chris said. 'Didi looks nothing like you.'
'She's black, isn't she?'
'You tellin' me all black girls look alike?'
'Only in the dark,' Lina deadpanned. She was quite jealous of Didi who, at nineteen, was seven years younger than her, very skinny, with exceptionally large boobs - which Lina had tried to convince everyone were silicone-enhanced.
'She's the road version of you,' Brigette whispered. 'No style.'
'Thanks a lot. I don't need a freakin' road version of me on this trip,' Lina grumbled, sulking.
They found seats and settled in.
Kyra Kattleman arrived next. Kyra was Australian, over six feet tall, with a mane of reddish brown hair, a surfer's body, big extra white teeth, and a high, squeaky voice. She'd recently married a fellow model.
'It does when 'is wife comes on the trip,' Lina said, lighting a cigarette.
'Remember? The old bag was there last year.'
'Maybe this year you'll get lucky.'
'Yeah,' Lina said ruefully. 'Lucky or unlucky - depending 'ow you look at it.'
'What does that mean?'
'I could go for him big time,' Lina said, eyes lighting up at the thought. 'We come from the same background an' all. He was born, like, five minutes away from me.
We got history.'
The limo drove across the tarmac to the plane, where Sheila Margolis waited to greet them. Sheila organized the shoot, watched every detail, and kept a beady eye on everyone. She was plump, friendly and well liked. The girls never crossed Sheila - they wouldn't dare. She was the one who made sure they weren't out partying all night, got their sleep and had plenty of energy for the gruelling shoot under the hot Bahamian sun. For six days she kept them under control, and on the last night everyone partied - including Sheila, who last year had been discovered at seven a.m. emerging from the room of a black basketball star, much to Lina's chagrin, because Lina had wanted him for herself, and couldn't imagine what he'd seen in the hardly glamorous Sheila.
'Hi, Sheil,' said Brigette, emerging from the limo and kissing Sheila on both cheeks.
'Hello, darlings,' Sheila greeted them, beaming.
Lina kissed her too. 'Where's Chris?' she asked casually.
'Already aboard,' Sheila said, adding a succinct, 'and keep your hands to yourself, Lina, dear. His wife's not with him this trip.'
'Ooooh,' Lina said, with a wicked laugh. 'There is a God.'
As they stood talking to Sheila, another limo drew up, and out got Annik Velderfon, the famous Dutch model. Annik was tall and wide-shouldered with a magnificent sweep of long blonde hair and a toothy smile. 'Hello, girls,' she said.
'Hello, Annik,' they chorused.
Annik began conferring with her driver, who was busy unloading her matching Vuitton luggage.
'She's got about as much personality as a dead salmon!' Lina muttered.
'Now, now,' chided Brigette, stifling a giggle.
'C'mon,' Lina said. 'Let's grab the best seats.'
Chris stood up when he saw them coming. Chris was English, a Rod Stewart clone but younger, with a cheeky smile and plenty of attitude. ' 'Ello, ladies,' he said, his thick Cockney accent matching Lina's. 'Fancy an 'orrible time?'
' 'Ello, darling,' said Lina, swooping in for a big intimate hug. 'I hear you left wifey-pie at home.'
'The old bird's pregnant,' Chris announced, stopping Lina in her tracks.
'Oh, that's just great!' she said, with a disappointed grimace. 'I 's'pose that means you're off limits again.'
'Sorry, darlin',' Chris said, chuckling. 'The butler did it!'
'Who else is coming today?' Brigette asked.
'There's you,' Chris said. 'Lina, Annik, Suzi, and… oh, yeah… Kyra.'
'Good, I like Kyra,' Lina said. 'She's got balls - just like me!'
'Where d'you keep 'em?' Chris asked, with a cheeky wink.
'Wouldn't you like to know?' Lina answered, with a flirty smile.
And so it starts, thought Brigette.
'I forgot,' Chris said. 'Didi Hamilton's on this trip too.'
'Shit!' Lina said, pulling a disgusted face. 'The poor man's me.'
'Don't be like that, darlin',' Chris said. 'Didi looks nothing like you.'
'She's black, isn't she?'
'You tellin' me all black girls look alike?'
'Only in the dark,' Lina deadpanned. She was quite jealous of Didi who, at nineteen, was seven years younger than her, very skinny, with exceptionally large boobs - which Lina had tried to convince everyone were silicone-enhanced.
'She's the road version of you,' Brigette whispered. 'No style.'
'Thanks a lot. I don't need a freakin' road version of me on this trip,' Lina grumbled, sulking.
They found seats and settled in.
Kyra Kattleman arrived next. Kyra was Australian, over six feet tall, with a mane of reddish brown hair, a surfer's body, big extra white teeth, and a high, squeaky voice. She'd recently married a fellow model.
Similar Books
