“Now remember, Jaxxon,” said Ollie in a serious tone, “because your name was leaked to the tabloids they’ll have done some digging and will know a bit about you and there’s a good chance they’ll shoot some questions at you that you might find uncomfortable.”
“You mean about my past. Personal stuff.”
He nodded. “If there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable answering just signal to me by tucking your curls behind your ear and I’ll tackle the question for you.”
Richie shot her a reassuring look. “I’m sure you’ll be fine but I know this is all new to you so if at any time you feel overwhelmed just signal to me by joining your hands behind your back.”
“Jesus, you’re making this sound like a covert operation,” said Jaxxon, which received plenty of chuckles. “I take it you’re here to take me down now.” She would never have admitted it, but she was so nervous she was close to shaking.
“Indeed we are,” confirmed Richie, ushering her out of the room. He waited while everyone from the team wished her good luck and told her how amazing she looked, something he very much agreed with. Something that he was sure the entire world would agree with.
Once they reached the convention room, Ollie – as Chairman of the cosmetics house – and Richie – as vice president of it – took their places on the presentation podium, keeping Jaxxon hidden behind the curtains at the rear of it. The two men each made a speech about the innovative and stylish Allure products themselves and revealed that the release date was exactly three weeks from this day. Then, after indicating the free samples around the reporters, Ollie introduced ‘the face of Allure’.
He watched as Jaxxon – in that natural catlike grace that she had – came to join them at the front of the podium. She was as breath-taking and mesmerising as always and received a massive, welcoming applause. She didn’t smile and pose for the flashing cameras, just as he knew she wouldn’t. But she wasn’t distancing herself from these reporters, it wasn’t an act of ignorance. She somehow managed to make eye contact with each person in the room, as if she was acknowledging them. Didn’t everyone enjoy the idea of being acknowledged by a woman so entrancing and captivating? More amazingly, all this was done on a subconscious level on her part. She clearly had no idea of the kind of effect she had on others around her.
It wasn’t long before questions were being shot at her from all angles. The first few were benign and related to the campaign and her contract and what was happening next and the designer of her outfit. Then, of course, the subject of her past was brought up. First it was relatively simple questions such as where she grew up, but then a particular question made Ollie tense even though he had been expecting it.
“Is it true, Jaxxon, that you spent the majority of your childhood in foster care?” one reporter asked.
“Yes,” Jaxxon answered simply and clearly. There was no shame or discomfort in her tone, and she noticed that that seemed to have surprised people. Why should she be embarrassed?
“And is it true that your mother committed suicide?” the same reported asked.
“Yes,” she said just as clearly and, still, with no shame or embarrassment.
Then a question was fired at Richie from a different reporter: “The rumour, Mr Moore, is that you discovered Jaxxon when she was working in a run-down pub.”
Richie smiled. “It’s always a surprise when a rumour is true. In this case, yes.”
After another series of questions at Richie a new male reporter: “Did it not concern you that her poor upbringing might make it extremely difficult for her to deal with a lifestyle that is at the other end of the spectrum? That perhaps she might find the pressures hard to bear?”
“You know, I really don’t like it when people talk like I’m not there,” said Jaxxon with a sigh. “Here’s something for you all to jot down on your little pads: a crap upbringing doesn’t make someone weak, it makes them strong or how else could they get through it? I’ve never liked that people seem to think that anyone who’s been brought up in care are destined to lead a life of poverty and crime. It’s postcode lottery.”
“I hope this shows those prejudiced people and those who are brought up in care that it doesn’t always have to work that way,” said Richie.
“That they can find themselves a fairy Godmother” – the reporter gestured at Richie, smiling – “and have a happy ending.”
“Oh no,” Jaxxon quickly objected as she heard the reference to Cinderella. “If you were hoping to find that despite my background I’m some kind of lovely young lady who birds tweet at, prepare to be disappointed. I’m a moody cow and I know it. This isn’t a Cinderella story, this is more like Harry Potter and the Gob of Ire.”
Ollie had to admire her straightforwardness; and it seemed like everyone else did as well. They chuckled and smiled and were totally taken in by her and how refreshing she was. More questions were fired at her but she handled them all with the same ease and bluntness as the others. Oh he could see she was still frustrated. The trouble was that her frustration only seemed to please the reporters, bringing that feral gleam to her eyes. He was truly proud of her and also relieved to see that she might just be able to handle how being the face of Allure was about to catapult her to the peak of success.
He hadn’t mentioned to Jaxxon that he was a little concerned about how some might treat her at the Launch Party. There were some guests he knew of who would enjoy flinging a few degrading insults at her, things aimed to eat at her confidence or belittle her or test her responses; jealousy and prejudice, of course, being the main motives. He couldn’t visualise her crumbling, but he had to remind himself that this young woman came from nothing and was about to enter a world where people competed over who had the biggest yacht or wore pearls and sapphires. He wondered if Jaxxon had any real concept of how famous this was all going to make her. As from tomorrow, her life was going to be dramatically different.
“One last question,” a reporter quickly shouted as the presentation ended.
Jaxxon groaned internally. This was something like the sixth time someone had launched a ‘last question’ while they were trying to leave and she was getting cheesed off now.
“We’ve noticed that haircare products are included in the beauty range, which isn’t usual. Any comments on that?”
“Yeah,” answered Jaxxon snappily. “Lather, rinse, repeat.”
CHAPTER THREE
Connor McKenzie stood in the living room of his London apartment, can of beer in hand, wondering if all blokes had this much trouble getting a woman to listen up when he said no he did not intend to marry her. He’d left L.A to get some space when it seemed that he couldn’t shake her off, and what did she do? Flew all the way to London to have the exact same conversation they’d had a dozen times before.
Oh she could hear him alright when he said no. Plain as day. He’d learned over the past three months that her hearing was selective. Oh that wasn’t all. He’d also learned that she had planned to accidentally-on-purpose become pregnant. What exactly did she think that was going to achieve? That it would trap him into a committed relationship? He might not want kids but although he’d have played some part in the kid’s life, no way would he have walked down a bloody aisle.