“Adrienne?”
“Yes. She is both my agent and mentor. I trust her to give an honest evaluation of Bianca’s chances in the business. I told Bianca about my concerns,” I admitted.
He gave me a scowl.
“She is a beautiful young woman. How could you not think she is pretty enough to be a model?”
“I agree that Bianca is very attractive. My concern is that she’s too old. Before you get up in arms, I know that the top models are all probably older than she is. But they started much younger than she would and have worked their way into the positions they hold. Bianca is a dancer, so I’m sure she wouldn’t have any problems moving well, but dancing and modeling are not the same.”
“Bianca has worked hard at dancing. She is not afraid to put in the work needed to be successful,” Nino challenged.
“I don’t doubt that, but I don’t want to set unrealistic expectations, either. The other problem is her height. Models tend to be taller for several reasons. The fact is, there are models of all shapes and sizes, but the rule of thumb is they are taller.
“The main reason is clothing fits better on tall models. Bianca is probably five-six. The average female model is at least five-ten. Designers want their clothes to hang properly, and a tall model helps with that. A shorter model may cause the clothing to bunch up or wrinkle.
“Another reason is a preference for taller women. There is a saying in the states where a mother will tell their daughters to find a ‘tall, dark and handsome man,’” I said.
“That’s not fair. Bianca looks fabulous in anything she wears.”
“I don’t disagree. The problem is that at first glance, a taller model shows off clothes better, and our society prefers that. There are exceptions, of course. You’ll find different types of modeling that don’t have height standards. She could probably be successful modeling lingerie or bikinis or working as a fitness model.
“That was why Adrienne asked her to strip down for pictures. She wanted to get a better idea of her body. I’m not a talent scout and only have a general idea whether or not Bianca would be successful. For Adrienne, that’s her business. If she believes Bianca has a shot, she’ll let us know,” I said.
“You don’t have any pull with her?” Nino asked.
I snorted.
“She took my call,” I said with a smile. “Adrienne is always on the lookout for talent. She knows that I wouldn’t have called her unless I thought Bianca had something. Beyond that, I have zero influence on the outcome.”
“But you can get someone’s foot in the door?” Nino asked.
I used my new one-raised-eyebrow look, which made him blush.
“It’s just that I know of two other girls who would love to be models.”
“So, the interview was just a ploy to make me meet beautiful women? I’m a teenage boy; you should have led with that,” I suggested.
“One is Bianca’s sister, and the other is my daughter,” he warned.
“Fathers love me,” I said, and gave him my most angelic face.
As an actor, I needed to figure out what I did wrong when I made that face. It never seemed to have the desired effect. He seemed to reconsider his plan, but then the idea of going home and telling the girls he’d failed suddenly registered. I recognized the look of a man who was wrapped around his daughter’s little finger.
“I have to get back on set. Just leave a message at the front desk if you want to follow up on this,” I offered and then showed him the door.
We would see if he called.
◊◊◊
“If I wanted a dancing hippo, I would have hired the cameraman to play your part. I thought you were some sort of big-deal athlete. Whoever said that was insane,” Laurent ranted.
I smirked when the cameraman’s face turned red.
“What’s so funny?!” Laurent yelled at me. “You’re killing me.”
I would give him an eight out of ten. I needed to have my niece show him how to do the foot stomp. The more he ranted, the funnier I thought it was.
“Don’t make me wipe that grin off your face,” he seethed.
I turned to the cameraman.
“Is that thing running?” I asked, and he nodded, so I turned back to Laurent. “Make me rich.”
He took a step towards me, and the studio suit cleared his throat. Laurent turned and stormed off the set. Everyone looked around.
“That’s a wrap,” I announced.
◊◊◊
Everyone, production crew and actors, went to the hotel lounge to unwind. They had a special on mojitos, and I’d offered to buy the first round. Something I missed from home was my favorite beverage; they didn’t have Pepsi in Cuba, which meant no Mountain Dew. Someone told me there were only two countries in the world where you couldn’t get Pepsi or Coca-Cola products: here and North Korea. What they passed off as cola here was different. They had this tea-like caffeine-rich drink made with something called ‘yerba mate.’ I was told it was better not to ask too many questions.
They’d started a pool on when Laurent would finally punch me and ‘make me rich.’ Everyone was in high spirits because word had come that we had tomorrow off.
Someone had ordered appetizers, and the band was setting up when in walked Bianca Cisco with two girls close to my age. I guessed she had her sister and Nino’s daughter with her. If you were into big brown eyes, dazzling smiles, long brown hair with natural curls, full lips, and long legs, these two were for you.
Bianca came up to me, gave me a hug, and kissed my cheek. I suspect everyone in the lounge was interested in what was happening.
“David, I would like to introduce my sister Eva and our close friend Anabella. Nino said you might be able to help them become models.”
I got a closer look at the girls. The good news was they were taller than Bianca was. Most Cuban women were short, but these two were almost tall enough. The only problem was they’d done their own makeup. I motioned for Galen, my makeup guy, to come over.
“They want to be models, and I need to take their pictures to send to my agent. Do you think you could help them?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Bless you. Let’s get you both fixed up,” Galen said in his southern drawl and sent them to wash their faces.
The band started to play.
“Dance with me,” I said to Bianca.
She was every bit as good as I remembered. By now, everyone had some mojitos in them, and the dance floor filled up. Bianca kept an eye on her charges as Galen and the girl who did hair worked on them off to the side. When they were finally done, I was amazed at the magic they’d pulled off.
The girls were funny as they vamped it up posing. I snapped a few pictures and sent them off to Adrienne, though I didn’t expect much to come of it. Even though they were both cute, they just didn’t have it. Bianca had a spark that the two of them didn’t.
I dragged Bianca back onto the dance floor. It took all of five minutes for her sister and their friend to get into trouble. Bianca left me on the dance floor to track them down. It was clear she was mad because her face turned red. The two girls pointed at me. That didn’t look good.
“What’s up?” I asked as I was motioned over.
“Did you buy them drinks?” Bianca asked.
I looked at their hands, and they both had mojitos.
“In a way, I suppose I did. I told the bartender that the first round was on me. But I didn’t intend for them to get drinks,” I explained.
“Since David paid for them, you can have one. But if I find out you’ve gotten more, there will be hell to pay,” Bianca said in Spanish.
“You might as well get one too,” I suggested.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Do I need to?” I asked.