Читать книгу Fortune: The Original Snogbuster - Megan Cole - Страница 7

Rome

Simonetta Mastrangelo breathed in deeply, filling her lungs. She didn’t smell the pollution-filled traffic fumes of Italy’s capital city; she smelled adventure, glamour and success.

Tucking her portfolio under her arm, she sashayed down the street, well aware of the admiring glances she was getting from passing pedestrians. She got a few dirty looks too, but Simonetta was used to bitchiness from other, less pretty girls. They were just jealous. As she passed a shop window, she caught sight of her perfect reflection and congratulated herself – not for the first time – on leaving behind her boring village in the countryside and moving to Rome to make it as a model.

Standing nearly six feet tall, Simonetta had the posture and long, lithe limbs of a natural. Or so Models Italia, the agency that had just signed her up, told her. With the smoky brown eyes and jet-black hair of Vanessa Hudgens, and the slim physique of Whitney Port, she had the beauty and natural grace to go very, very far. Simonetta had already done a few major catwalk shows, but she wanted more. Naomi, Claudia, Cindy, Giselle – she saw her name up there with all the greats.

It was taking a little more time than she’d anticipated, but Simonetta knew she’d get there eventually. She was destined for the cover of Italian Vogue. She just knew it.

Her mobile went off, rousing her from a daydream about red carpets and Hollywood parties. It was her mother. Simonetta rolled her eyes in irritation. Extremely over-protective and religious, her mother rang her at least four times a day. Anyone would think that Simonetta was a bambina of nine, not a beautiful, self-assured woman of nineteen.

‘How are you, Simonetta?’

‘Same as I was two hours ago, Mamma.’

‘Are you eating properly? Papa and I are worried about you.’

‘Mamma, stop fussing.’

‘You were skin and bone last time I saw you! That is not what men find attractive, Simonetta. How will we ever find you a husband?’ Her mother sighed dramatically. ‘You’re putting me in an early grave, Simonetta, all this gallivanting about Rome. I will pray extra hard for you at church tonight…’

Simonetta’s eyes glazed over as her mother droned on. She’d heard it all before: how she’d abandoned her family for a shallow, superficial life. How she had shamed her local congregation. Just because I want to make something of myself, Mamma, and not be stuck in a little hick town all my life! Just because I want to be someone!

Ten minutes later, her mother took her first pause for breath and Simonetta took the chance for escape.

‘I’m home now, Mamma! I’ll call you later.’ Before her mother could say anything, Simonetta ended the call. She gazed up at the modern apartment block she lived in now and swelled with pride. Renting in the trendiest part of the city may have left her in tons of debt, but it was essential to have the right address. Besides, she could pay all her debts ten times over when she started earning serious money.

As she let herself into the lobby and checked her mailbox, Simonetta noticed one envelope standing out from all the credit card statements and overdue bills. Black and shiny, it looked like an invitation to a hot new nightclub or bar. Simonetta smiled, pleased that her networking was starting to pay off.

She pressed the button for the lift and the doors slid open. Simonetta stepped inside. Trying to open the envelope with a portfolio under one arm and a Chloe handbag under the other wasn’t the easiest thing to do, and Simonetta had to wait until she got into her apartment. Kicking the door shut, she dumped her bag and portfolio and ripped open the envelope.

It was an invitation all right, but not the one she was expecting.

You are cordially invited to a party celebrating the fiftieth birthday of Brad Masters.

Location: Casa Eleganza, Capri.

Dress: Elegant.

‘Oh, mio Dio!’ exclaimed Simonetta. She knew who Brad Masters was! He’d obviously noticed her at a catwalk show and decided he had to meet her. Simonetta’s lips curled into a smile; she’d known it was only a matter of time before someone influential approached her. Even though Simonetta always went for older men, thirty years older was pushing it. Nonetheless, Brad was still very attractive for his age and it would be great to play him along and kick-start the luxury lifestyle she’d always dreamed about. Having Brad Masters on her speed dial would open doors for her, serious doors. Simonetta knew how it all worked.

Her phone rang and she snatched it up. It was Lexi, her agent from Models Italia.

‘Simonetta?’

‘Lexi, you’ll never believe whose party I’ve just been invited to!’ Simonetta’s normal aloofness had been taken over by excitement.

Her agent laughed. ‘Brad Masters?’

Simonetta frowned. ‘How did you know?’

‘Because his office called the agency, wanting to invite you to one of his parties.’ Lexi sounded almost as excited as she was. ‘Simonetta, Brad only asks the big-name models to his parties. This could be your break – it could put Models Italia on the map!’

Simonetta rolled her eyes. Typical Lexi, only thinking of herself and the stupid agency. After Brad Masters’ party, Select, Models One and all the other top agencies would be begging to sign her up. A beep indicated another call. ‘Lexi, I’ll call you later,’ Simonetta cut her off and switched over to her mother. Normally Simonetta would have ignored the call but she had to share the good news.

‘Mamma, you’ll never guess who has just invited me to his birthday party!’

‘I do not know, Simonetta.’

‘Brad Masters! You know, the really rich and famous music guy.’

She knew her mother wouldn’t approve, but even so, Simonetta was shocked by her reaction. There was a long silence, then her mother let out a high-pitched shriek.

‘Simonetta! This is an outrage. Why are telling me this?’

‘Because it’s exciting, Mamma, I thought you’d be pleased for me.’

‘Pleased?’ Her mother could barely get the word out. ‘I knew moving to Rome would be the undoing of you. You’re on a slippery slope. Mixing with those, those…people. Sex, drugs and loose morals, Simonetta – that’s all they care about.’

‘Mamma, it’s only a party!’

Her mother let out a stifled sob. ‘No, it is not! Simonetta, you do not know what you are doing. I forbid you to go.’

Simonetta had had enough. ‘And I forbid you to ring me again. I’m sick of you always telling me what to do.’

‘Simonetta, I only have your best interests at heart!’

‘Goodbye, Mamma,’ she said coldly and put the phone down.