He’d been annoyed with her for letting Michael’s words wound her, reminding her that the scout from the model agency, who had approached them both as they’d been in Debenhams shopping, had told her that she could be Britain’s answer to Alek Wek if she lost six inches off her hips. Nathan had taken the man’s card and promised to get in touch, but she had laughed and said, “No thank you!”
Natalie had never thought of herself as beautiful, though she’d never considered herself unattractive. She’d always wished her hair was about six inches longer so she could pull it into an elegant chignon which she thought was the height of sophistication. She also wished that she was average, rather than model height—shorter women seemed cuter somehow. And at the time, with her confidence totally destroyed by Michael’s cruel words, she’d wished that her complexion was just a little lighter, more like her father’s.
Her mother always told her that beauty was about confidence and Natalie acknowledged that there was some merit in her claim. Rather than try to fade into the background her mother wore vibrant colors and walked around like she was royalty. She turned heads wherever she went and was something of a style guru to her friends.
Michael hadn’t turned up for classes for the next two weeks, and though she’d made up her mind not to speak to him, she lived every moment in dread of seeing him again. Finally she’d asked another student on the same course, who had regularly gone to the gym with Michael, if he had heard from him. He had told her that Michael had been barred from the university. He’d gotten into an argument with another student in the cafeteria one morning over who was next in line to be served. Michael had let the other student pay for his order, then he had paid for his coffee, taken the top of the cardboard cup and poured the scalding hot contents over the student’s head. Luckily, the student had been wearing a hat and warm clothing which had saved him from being badly burned. The police had been called, but the other student hadn’t wanted to press charges. The dean of the university hadn’t been as forgiving and had expelled Michael. The classmate had also told her that he had warned Michael about the steroids he’d started taking to enhance his gym workouts and make him bulk up faster.
Natalie hadn’t seen Michael again before she graduated with First Class Honors three years later. He’d lived somewhere in Islington while attending university, so she’d avoided going anywhere near that part of North London like the plague.
Then just a month after she’d started at the agency, she’d gone to the Marble Arch branch of Marks & Spencer to treat herself to some new underwear with the generous salary she’d received. The bespoke suits she wore for work demanded perfectly fitting underwear and she had been trying to decide which five of six sets of lingerie to purchase when she heard a voice full of indulgence say, “I don’t know, Melissa. They both look good to me. If you like them both, just get them and I’ll pay.”
She had immediately recognized Michael’s voice, though he’d never used that tone when speaking to her, and had been frozen in place for a few seconds, afraid to breathe in case she attracted his attention. Finally she had looked up and saw him standing patiently waiting just behind a woman who was stooping near to the bottom rung of the lingerie rack, still trying to decide.
Natalie’s hands trembled as she fumbled to replace the lingerie on the display hooks, deciding that she wasn’t going to buy anything. All she’d wanted was to get out of the store and as far away as possible before Michael noticed her. The scraping sound of the metal hangers hooks on the metal display wasn’t loud, but it brought Michael’s head around to investigate its source.
He had filled out even more
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