place was huge and crowded. She felt invisible, and cocooned in a time warp that made her feel like she was standing still. Everyone else had someplace real to be. People darted by her with tight connections to make. Others stopped in her path to check computer monitors. She was an amateur at all this, and it showed.
But one thing might get her out of her weird funk. Eating.
She thought about grabbing a quick bite. The smell of french fries, cinnamon buns, and pizza by the slice tempted her, for sure. Whenever she got nervous, she had a tendency to eat junk, but she didn’t want to keep Ivana and her father waiting. She’d promised not to draw attention to herself, but there was one stop she had to make before getting her bag.
A pit stop.
Nikki hit the public restroom and took care of business. But when she was done, a dark-skinned woman in a navy janitor’s uniform, hardly more than a girl, caught her eye. She was cleaning one of the stalls. Nikki saw her in the mirror as she washed her hands, and she tried to smile, but the woman only stared through her, her eyes dull and vacant. Hard to tell her age, but she didn’t look that much older than her. Nikki tried not to stare but couldn’t help it. The woman was too young to give up on the rest of her life. And what about dreams? Did she ever have any?
How did people let these things happen? she wondered.
She watched the woman work for a while longer, until an odd sensation settled in the pit of her stomach. The girl suddenly made her feel uncomfortable and anxious. She didn’t understand why she felt this way. It wasn’t like she was alone with her. Other people had been there, and the cleaning woman posed no threat. Yet something came over her that was palpable and strong. All she knew was that she couldn’t stay any longer. She rushed from the restroom, heading for baggage claim and Ivana.
As she walked, Nikki picked up her pace with one thought repeating over and over in her head. She’d done the right thing by coming here, damn it. She had dreams and a new life to start. And she wouldn’t let anything stand in her way.
Outside baggage claim, the passenger pickup lanes were swarming with activity. He’d counted on the buzz to blend in. People were coming and going. Skycaps were hauling bags on wheel carts, dodging traffic. And a taxi wrangler whistled and waved a cab up from the waiting line to drive a suit downtown to an overpriced hotel. That’s what he figured anyway.
He knew fresh meat when he saw it. They all looked clueless, and he could spot easy pickings a mile off. The instinct was hard to kick, but he had a new gig now. And it sure beat hustling for chump change.
Alert, the man kept his eyes on the rearview mirror and out his windshield, looking for a face he’d committed to memory. When he found what he was looking for, he smirked, then keyed a speed dial number on his cell phone. His call was answered on the third ring.
“Yeah, you got somethin’ for me?” A low guttural voice with a Russian accent came on the line.
“She’s definitely a looker.” He narrowed his eyes. A girl craned her neck, looking down the row of waiting vehicles. When she spotted his car, the kid headed toward him.
Bingo.
Speaking into his phone, he added, “With any luck, we’ll have options with this one.”
He looked right, expecting the sullen girl sitting next to him in the front seat to move, but she didn’t.
“Hey, hold on a sec.” He put a hand over the phone, glaring at the girl beside him.
Still the bitch didn’t move. She picked at strands of her thin brown hair, tugging at split ends. Sometimes she could get under his skin, like now. He poked her scrawny arm with a knuckle and barked an order.
“Hey, go make nice. You know what to do. Get her into the car, both of you in the backseat. Once we get her home, I wanna see that fanny pack. And she better not have a cell phone.”
Ivana shifted her attention to him, her dark green eyes the color of dull moss with the luster gone. And her skin looked blotchy from too much makeup, her attempt to cover acne scars.
“No problem. Jus’ remember, I do this thing for you. I help you, yes?” Sometimes Ivana slathered on the Russian accent like it was butter. It used to turn him on.
“Yeah, yeah. Now get goin’.”
She got out of the vehicle without saying another word, returning his stare over her shoulder. Once outside, she perked up for the performance and waved to the new one, calling her over. The girls hugged. It gave him time to finish his call.
“I got appointments for her tomorrow. Who knows? Maybe if we get lucky, I’ll be sending her to you real soon. Kind of a shame she may’ve come all this way, but you know the drill. I’ll give you a heads-up when I can.”
He ended the call and got out of the car, forcing himself to grin at the kid, real friendly.
“Hey, Nikki. Welcome to Chicago. I’m Ivana’s father. Lemme take your bag.”
She smiled and handed over all her possessions. Real trusting. They all had fresh young faces that he never got tired of seeing.
“Thanks, Mr. Noskova. I really appreciate—”
He didn’t let her finish.
“My name’s not—” He stopped and stared at the girl. He could have corrected her, but it didn’t matter what she called him. “Just call me Mike.”
The new girl narrowed her eyes and gave him a questioning look. Before she could ask anything, he took her duffel and placed it in the trunk.
“You girls go ahead and get in the backseat. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to talk about.” He smiled again and waved them off. “Go ahead. We’ve got a bit of a drive, so get comfortable.”
He shoved her bag into the trunk of his car and closed it. When he got into the driver’s seat, he heard the kid talking to Ivana. Looking in the rearview mirror, he watched for traffic to clear, but the new girl did a better job at holding his interest.
“I’ve never lived anyplace as big as this.” Nikki struck up a conversation with her friend, but the whole thing felt awkward with her father listening. And she caught the man snatching glimpses in the mirror.
“You like livin’ here, right, Ivana?” she persisted.
Her friend looked at her and forced a smile. “Yes. You will see.”
As Ivana’s dad pulled from the curb and into traffic, Ivana crossed her arms and turned away, gazing out the window.
“So are you excited about tomorrow?” Nikki tried again to make conversation.
“Yes, it will be good day,” the girl replied.
Nikki was so anxious to talk about tomorrow that her friend’s indifference didn’t register at first. Mr. Noskova had pulled strings to get them both an appointment with a prestigious Chicago modeling agency, one with connections to New York. Apparently, they had liked a photo posted on her blog. And they wanted to see Ivana too.
Ivana’s dad merged into freeway traffic, taking Interstate 190E, then south on 294. The road signs flew by, not catching her attention. Her focus was entirely on what tomorrow would bring.
“I hear if they like you, they take head shots…with a real fashion photographer. I’ve never done anything like that. Do you think someone will be there to help us with makeup? ’Cause that would be so cool, you know?”
She was talking a mile a minute now—excited to finally share her dream—but Ivana only stared back, barely nodding or shaking her head in reply. An unreadable face with vacant eyes. Her reaction caught Nikki by surprise.
In her friend’s apathetic eyes she found remnants of another face—the cleaning woman—the one she thought looked defeated and used up. But before she could ask Ivana what was wrong, Mr. Noskova interrupted.
“Tomorrow is a big day for you girls. I got a feeling it’s gonna change your lives.”
He stared at Nikki through the mirror again. Although she heard a smile in his voice, the man wasn’t what she expected.
But then, neither was Ivana.
Talkeetna, Alaska
