Page 93 of Take Hold of Me

She is talking about me. I have not been able to log in for a week, given my crazy schedule. I step out of the shadows. “Maybe I can offer some advice?”

Both woman turn and look at me. “Oh my, we’re so sorry to bother you, Miss Dubois. I thought this dressing room was empty.”

I hold up my hand. “Please stay. I would love to help you.”

Sally forces her lips to turn upward. “That’s okay. I’ll figure something out.”

My shoulders sag. I take in her outfit, impressed with her now non-frizzy hair, and make up my mind. I am not taking “no” for an answer, especially since I can really help her out. “Please. I would really like to give you some advice. This is what I love about fashion. Do you have a black belt?”

Sally stops on her way to the door. “I, ah, do.” She lifts her shirt to reveal the wide belt.

“That is perfect! But you have it in the wrong place.” I approach her, my fingers itching to make the change. “Please let me help.”

Her shoulders rise and she nods. “I can use all the help I can get, I guess.” I ask her to take the belt off.

Hand outstretched, I ask, “May I?” Her nod is all the permission I need to grab the belt and wrap it around the outside of her blouse, securing it low on her hips. She already looks ten pounds lighter. Then, I open another button on her blouse, better exposing her funky necklace.

“I love your jewelry. It says so much about you.” Sally’s responding smile is genuine this time. “But, your bracelet is not right.”

“How about this one?” She holds up another option.

“No. Not that one either.” The bracelet I wore on set would be good. “Are you allowed to borrow anything from the set?”

“Well, it depends.”

I rush back to where I left my costume, grabbing the bracelet. “How about this?”

Her friend chimes in. “You’re done filming, right?” After I nod, she nudges Sally. “Go ahead. You know the director won’t mind, so long as you replace it tomorrow.”

I put the bracelet on, adjust her sleeves and nod. Her friend exclaims, “Wow. You look amazing. I never would’ve thought such simple changes would make this much difference.” She drags Sally off to a mirror.

“You’re a miracle worker, Miss Dubois!”

“Please, call me Emilie. And go out and have a wonderful evening.”

After thanking me ten times over, Sally gives me a huge hug. “Emilie, you were amazing on set, especially for a first-timer. The director even told me that herself. But, it is a loss to womankind everywhere that you’re not a stylist.” She smiles at me with appreciation as she and her friend leave my dressing area.

They have no idea I am the person behind the Instagram account that they rely upon. I have never heard anyone discuss my site in person before, and how much she likes it. The adrenaline rush from helping her soars.

Then comes crashing way down when I consider her other words about my being a natural actress. Maybe making the transition to movies is what I need. A change from what I have been doing for the past ten years.

Echoes of advice Wills gave me about modeling resurface. “Being good at something does not mean it is a good career choice.”

The better question I should ask myself is whether I like acting. Do I? It is fun,oui, but having to deal with all the minutia, the waiting, the retakes from so many different angles all the time would get old. Not to mention kissing random people—or in this case, an ex-boyfriend—made me feel uncomfortable.

No. Acting is not for me, long-term.

But for now, I am tied to this movie and my modeling obligations. And I am a professional who fulfills her obligations no matter the personal expense. I take a step toward the door and stop when it hits me that everything professional in my life is a chore. Like attending the after-party tonight will be. With Rinaldo, no less.

I need Wills right now.

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