“Miss, are you sure this is where you want to get dropped off?” said the yellow-cab driver to his fare.
John Docherty was your typical New York cab driver. Irish american new york through and through, up and down and seemingly born to ferry folks up and down this island of concrete. He knew the city better than his own family and he certainly knew that Brooklyn at 1am in the morning was not someplace you made it a point to go.
“Yes, this is fine” she tried to reassure him. “...there is a great all-night place around the corner... “
The cabbie wasn’t exactly buying it. Well would you? He’d picked up his ride from a red-carpet event at the Lincoln Center, expecting her to give him an address in Nolita, instead she directed him across the water to a warehouse in the shadows of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Coupled with the fact that this young (and very pretty) girl was wearing what obviously looked like a very expensive dress. Docherty was no fashion expert, but this was the kind of dress that just *looked* expensive. The kind you’d see if you flipped through the pages of any fashion magazine, or saw all over the media during fashion week.
The cab pulled up. The girl looked up from her cell-phone and finished sending off a text.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Twenty Bucks miss...are you sure..”
“I’ll be fine.. thank you..really..”
And with that she was out of the cab and heading across the street. Docherty watched her go.
‘Oh well.' Thought Docherty, shaking his head. 'And you think you've seen it all in this crazy city' .. he thought as he drove off and headed back towards Manhattan.
He sure as shit wasn’t going to turn on his ‘For Hire’ light in this neighborhood though.
-o-
She’d got the text at the party.
'My Office. 8AM sharp. RS'
Shit. Typical. And she had only just started to mingle. And mingling was the key to staying in peoples psyche.
What was the saying? ‘out of sight, out of mind’ .. This is especially true in the modelling business. If you’re not out there in front of people, or in the rags, or moving product, then there are a dozen more girls out there who are more than ready to take your place. The calls dry up and before you know it. There is some new girl working this seasons Kate Spade collection.
Of course, Hilary was going to have a fit. Hilary was her roommate. She was a buyer for Macy’s and had somehow managed to get her the last minute hook-up to this party (and the on-trend BCBG cocktail dress) after some serious pleading. And here she was, bailing after just a couple of hours there, and not even heading home.
“sorry H. something’s come up. txt u 2morrow. ciao. L’
Perhaps this was asking the impossible. Trying to keep at least a tentative hold on her old life. But right now, she needed it. Strange as it may seem her new life was even more surreal and exciting than the one of a model that seemed to be slipping out of her hands.
She turned off her phone as she walked through the warehouse.
(A what was quickly becoming familiar buzzing of bee’s)
A shimmering golden curtain ..
To London -- by way of Agartha.
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