name,” said Maddalena, but Lorraine was not paying attention.
“Now, just to make sure,” Antonio said, the tip of his pen on the bottom line of the form. “There’s no risk to any of this. If she decides she can’t do it, or you think she’s not good enough, she can just stop?”
“Of course,” Lorraine said. “We’re not running a prison here. You owe us only the cost of materials, which is only fair.”
“Materials?”
“Photographs, postage, cosmetics, various out-of-pockets. The usual.”
Antonio looked up. “She pays this only if she quits, though, right?”
“Well, no,” Lorraine said. “It’s all in there.” She pointed to the form. “Our fees are extremely reasonable, when you consider the guaranteed success we offer.”
Antonio narrowed his eyes and kept reading. Maddalena looked over his shoulder, but she couldn’t decipher enough of the words.
He turned the page over. It was blank. “I don’t understand,” he said. “On the phone you told me the agency pays for everything. That you get a cut only when the girl makes money.”
“Oh, no,” said Lorraine, gently. “If that was true, we couldn’t afford the rent on this place.” A look of concern fell like a shadow over her face. “I’m afraid you misunderstood? Maybe I spoke too quickly, or something got lost in translation?”
Antonio rubbed his forehead. “How much would they cost, then, these materials?”
“It’s extremely reasonable, as I said. But every girl is different, so the expenses will vary. Your wife will need to take a walking class, and experiment with a few skin products, and take a color test. After that it’s hard to say. Her teeth are good, so you’re saving a lot of money there—”
“The Russian paid for all these classes and tests?” Antonio interrupted.
“Irina was a special case,” said Lorraine. “And even so, it’s our policy not to discuss the terms of our clients’ contracts. Rest assured: no one will know how much it takes to get Madeline some work.”
“Maddalena,” he said.
“Yes,” said Lorraine. “It’s a beautiful name. Unique enough to stand on its own, don’t you agree? Like ‘Valentino’ or ‘Sinatra.’ I’m already thinking.” She tapped her right temple with her finger. Then she got serious, pulled her chair closer to the desk. “Let me reassure you, Mr. Grasso. Once the work comes through, which it undoubtedly will, the fees won’t hurt one bit. We have a very extensive network of opportunities. And a payment plan.”
“Well, we’re not paying a dime up front,” he said.
“Antonio,” said Maddalena.
At that moment, a woman passed in front of the open door. “Bianca!” Lorraine called. “Come in here!”
Not surprisingly, Bianca was a blonde. She had a thin frame, narrow hips, and an incongruously large rear end. Her entire body was on display in the black leotard she wore—the kind you might see on a dancer or a cat burglar. “Yes, darling,” she said, in an accent Maddalena could identify only as British, but which may have been something more exotic. She grabbed the doorjamb and stood half-in, half-out of the office.
“You must see these photographs,” Lorraine said.
Bianca held them at arm’s length, in both hands, then brought them closer. She set them on the desk and examined them through the little looking glass. “Extraordinary,” she said. “Absolutely extraordinary. The presence.”
“That’s exactly what I saw,” said Lorraine.
“She’s going to go very far in this business,” Bianca said to Lorraine, as if Maddalena weren’t sitting across from them. “When can we get her to see Ellie?”
“Actually,” Lorraine said. “Mr. and Mrs. Grasso are having some second thoughts about us.”
“Oh?” Now she turned to Maddalena. “With photos like that?”
“We’re hoping you have some other plan,” Maddalena said. “For poor people who can’t afford to pay right away?”
“Hmm,” Bianca said. “I’m sure something can be
“Now, just to make sure,” Antonio said, the tip of his pen on the bottom line of the form. “There’s no risk to any of this. If she decides she can’t do it, or you think she’s not good enough, she can just stop?”
“Of course,” Lorraine said. “We’re not running a prison here. You owe us only the cost of materials, which is only fair.”
“Materials?”
“Photographs, postage, cosmetics, various out-of-pockets. The usual.”
Antonio looked up. “She pays this only if she quits, though, right?”
“Well, no,” Lorraine said. “It’s all in there.” She pointed to the form. “Our fees are extremely reasonable, when you consider the guaranteed success we offer.”
Antonio narrowed his eyes and kept reading. Maddalena looked over his shoulder, but she couldn’t decipher enough of the words.
He turned the page over. It was blank. “I don’t understand,” he said. “On the phone you told me the agency pays for everything. That you get a cut only when the girl makes money.”
“Oh, no,” said Lorraine, gently. “If that was true, we couldn’t afford the rent on this place.” A look of concern fell like a shadow over her face. “I’m afraid you misunderstood? Maybe I spoke too quickly, or something got lost in translation?”
Antonio rubbed his forehead. “How much would they cost, then, these materials?”
“It’s extremely reasonable, as I said. But every girl is different, so the expenses will vary. Your wife will need to take a walking class, and experiment with a few skin products, and take a color test. After that it’s hard to say. Her teeth are good, so you’re saving a lot of money there—”
“The Russian paid for all these classes and tests?” Antonio interrupted.
“Irina was a special case,” said Lorraine. “And even so, it’s our policy not to discuss the terms of our clients’ contracts. Rest assured: no one will know how much it takes to get Madeline some work.”
“Maddalena,” he said.
“Yes,” said Lorraine. “It’s a beautiful name. Unique enough to stand on its own, don’t you agree? Like ‘Valentino’ or ‘Sinatra.’ I’m already thinking.” She tapped her right temple with her finger. Then she got serious, pulled her chair closer to the desk. “Let me reassure you, Mr. Grasso. Once the work comes through, which it undoubtedly will, the fees won’t hurt one bit. We have a very extensive network of opportunities. And a payment plan.”
“Well, we’re not paying a dime up front,” he said.
“Antonio,” said Maddalena.
At that moment, a woman passed in front of the open door. “Bianca!” Lorraine called. “Come in here!”
Not surprisingly, Bianca was a blonde. She had a thin frame, narrow hips, and an incongruously large rear end. Her entire body was on display in the black leotard she wore—the kind you might see on a dancer or a cat burglar. “Yes, darling,” she said, in an accent Maddalena could identify only as British, but which may have been something more exotic. She grabbed the doorjamb and stood half-in, half-out of the office.
“You must see these photographs,” Lorraine said.
Bianca held them at arm’s length, in both hands, then brought them closer. She set them on the desk and examined them through the little looking glass. “Extraordinary,” she said. “Absolutely extraordinary. The presence.”
“That’s exactly what I saw,” said Lorraine.
“She’s going to go very far in this business,” Bianca said to Lorraine, as if Maddalena weren’t sitting across from them. “When can we get her to see Ellie?”
“Actually,” Lorraine said. “Mr. and Mrs. Grasso are having some second thoughts about us.”
“Oh?” Now she turned to Maddalena. “With photos like that?”
“We’re hoping you have some other plan,” Maddalena said. “For poor people who can’t afford to pay right away?”
“Hmm,” Bianca said. “I’m sure something can be
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