Nathan continued before he’d disconnected the call, “Good, because this is your first and final warning.”
Nathan’s face as he’d said the words had been unrecognizable—he’d looked capable of carrying out his threat without a minute’s hesitation. It had confirmed Natalie’s fears that, like her father, if Nathan had a chance to put his hands on Michael it would end badly. She would have never forgiven herself for getting him embroiled in a situation that had been of her own making.
Nathan had demanded an explanation. She hadn’t told him everything—some things you don’t tell a brother, but she’d told him about Michael telling her that she was too tall, too dark and her hair too short to be seen on his arm.
Her brother had the same smooth dark skin she had inherited from their mother and people often complimented him for having beautiful skin. No one ever believed all he used was plain soap and water. He had modeled for just over a year when he was sixteen, but had filled out his large spare frame before his eighteenth birthday. Work had dried up when he refused to diet to achieve the androgynous look popular with designers at the time.
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
Nathan’s face as he’d said the words had been unrecognizable—he’d looked capable of carrying out his threat without a minute’s hesitation. It had confirmed Natalie’s fears that, like her father, if Nathan had a chance to put his hands on Michael it would end badly. She would have never forgiven herself for getting him embroiled in a situation that had been of her own making.
Nathan had demanded an explanation. She hadn’t told him everything—some things you don’t tell a brother, but she’d told him about Michael telling her that she was too tall, too dark and her hair too short to be seen on his arm.
Her brother had the same smooth dark skin she had inherited from their mother and people often complimented him for having beautiful skin. No one ever believed all he used was plain soap and water. He had modeled for just over a year when he was sixteen, but had filled out his large spare frame before his eighteenth birthday. Work had dried up when he refused to diet to achieve the androgynous look popular with designers at the time.
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
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