The Soul Redeemer: From Victim to Victory (15 page)

Nicole fell into bed that night, completely exhausted and slept straight through till morning.

A
fter Nicole opened the Inn
the following morning, she ran over to the post office to pick up a package.  On her way back, a man that she didn't recognize was walking towards her, and when their eyes met, he looked a little surprised.  She smiled at him then started to cross the street.  The man took a few more steps, then stopped and called out to Nicole.

"Excuse me ma'am."

Nicole turned and looked back at him.  "Yes?"

He took a step closer to her then stopped.  "Megan?"

"No.  I'm sorry.  I’m not Megan," she replied.

"Surly you are," he insisted.

"No sir, you are mistaken.  I have one of those faces that many people seem to think they recognize," Nicole answered.  "Have a good day."  She smiled again and prepared to step into the crosswalk.

Again he stopped her.  "Wait!  Megan, why won't you to talk to me?"

Nicole was beginning to get frustrated.  She turned back around to the tall, dark haired man and said, "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know you.  I need to get to work now."

He had come close enough to take hold of Nicole's arm, but refrained from touching her.  He just looked intently into her eyes and then smiled sadly.  "Maybe you aren't who I thought you were, but you could be her twin!  The resemblance is extraordinary!  Here, let me introduce myself."  He pulled a card out of his shirt pocket to hand to her and said, "I am Peter Chavel, fashion designer.  You may have heard of the Chavel line of clothing."

Nicole reached out and accepted his card.  As she read his name on the card she answered, "I'm sorry, I haven't heard of your clothing line.  I am not much into fashion or keeping up with that sort of thing Mr. Chavel.  But welcome to our community.  I hope you enjoy your visit."  She held out the card to give back to him.

"Please, keep my card, for I hope you will call me.  And you are…."

She didn't really want to engage in this conversation, but didn't want to be rude either.  "Nicole."

"Ah, Nicole."  He nodded his head slightly in her direction.  "I mistakenly thought you were Megan, one of the ladies who model for my company.  She became ill this last year and was forced to quit work.  It was most unfortunate for me because she was one of our best.  Even after watching you more closely for this minute, I am certain that you could pass for her.  I know this may sound forward, but please, will you consider an interview?"

Brushing off his persistence she answered, "That is kind of you Mr. Chavel, but no.  I really must get to work now." 

"I understand.  You don't know me and I must appear to you as a crazy man.  But truly, I do hope you will at least consider calling me so that we could talk about this further.  I am certain that I have something to offer that would be of great benefit to you." 

He smiled kindly at her, and this time when he offered his hand, she lightly took hold of it. He gently squeezed it and said, "Good day Nicole."

As she turned and stepped into the street, she could feel his eyes on her as if they were burning through her body and into her soul. 

What a strange encounter!  And even stranger was the fact that she couldn't seem to get Mr. Chavel or the conversation with him out of her mind.  There was something familiar about him that seemed to draw her to him, and yet she was certain that she didn't know him. 

Throughout the morning she kept wondering what that life would be like.  She had never considered such a job as modeling, probably for several reasons, but mainly because she had never considered herself beautiful.   At times she felt pretty, but she had way too many flaws to fit into the world of fashion.  She was petite, but too short.  And even though she was petite, her arms were too big, always had been.  She was muscular, and had decided that God had made her that way because she was to be a strong worker and warrior.  Her hands were too large for her body and had no hint of the delicate nature that model's hands should have.  Her neck was not slim and well defined like most models.  And then there was the age factor.  She was fifty four years old for goodness sake!  She knew that she looked more like forty something, but still, models were supposed to be young. 

Nicole had gone into town to pick up some supplies and she kept fingering the card in her pocket and arguing with herself about why she should stop thinking about such a crazy proposition.  But she continued to wonder what it would be like to be dressed in nice clothes and to feel beautiful.  Maybe she should call Mr. Chavel and just go for the interview.  She didn't understand it, but decided that if she interviewed, they would reject her and then she could get on with her real life. 

When Nicole arrived back at the Inn and had unloaded the supplies, it was noon and she had decided to call Mr. Chavel just so that she could get past these obsessive lines of thought.  When he answered, she said, "Hello Mr. Chavel.  This is Nicole."

"Ah, Nicole.  I am so glad that you called.  I am certain that you have many questions that I would be honored to answer.  Would you like to get together to talk?" 

Did she?  Was she really going to do this?  She walked from the kitchen into the bar before she answered, and the voice on the other end inquired, "Nicole?"

"Yes, Mr. Chavel.  I would like to make an appointment."

"Very good.  I will be in town until very early tomorrow morning.  Would you be able to come by my suite this afternoon?  I am staying at the Samaritan Inn."

Nicole's heart was racing now.  She walked to the front guest register and saw that he had indeed checked into the hotel.  When she looked up from the register, she saw him sitting in the dining room.  "Mr. Chavel, one moment please."  She hung up the phone and walked toward him.  She saw him pull his phone away from his ear and look at it questioningly.

She approached his table and said, "Hello Mr. Chavel."

He looked surprised, then pleased.  He stood and reached out to take her hand in greeting.  "Nicole!  What a pleasant surprise!  Please join me."  All charm, he pulled out the chair across from his and waited for her to be seated before he sat back down.  He continued, "This is quite a coincidence, meeting you here."

"I work here."

"Ah.  Let's see, where were we in our conversation?  Oh yes, we were setting up an appointment.  What time do you finish your work here?"

"I will be free by 4:30, but I don't feel comfortable going up to your suite," Nicole said.

Mr. Chavel smiled and said, "Yes, I understand.  The talk of the small town.  I can assure you that this is strictly professional business, Nicole.  Would it make a difference if you knew that my assistant, Mrs. Smith, will be there?  She will be arriving any minute now and has reserved a room here as well for the night.  We could even speak out on the balcony patio if that would make you feel more comfortable."

"Yes, that would be ok."  Nicole stood and said, "I will see you then.  Enjoy your stay at the Inn, Mr. Chavel."  She turned and walked back toward the kitchen to put the supplies away. 

Should she tell Jake or Casie about this?  Yes, but she decided that she would wait until after the meeting today.  After all, she couldn't fathom this working out.  But then why was she even pursuing it?  She really didn't know.  Maybe things would become more clear after the interview.

At 4:30, Jo stood up knowing that it was time to go home, then looked at her questioningly when she patted his head and said, "It's ok boy.  You stay here.  I'll be right back."  His brows creased with concern and she heard him whine as she climbed the steps to the first suite where Mr. Chavel was staying.  His door was open and he stepped out onto the balcony when he heard her coming. 

"Hello Nicole.  Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.  Mrs. Smith will be along shortly.  She arrived a little later than she planned and is just getting settled in."

Nicole knew this of course because Casie had told her of Mrs. Smith's arrival and registering at 3:45.  Of course Casie did not know that Nicole had already been aware that she was coming. 

They sat at the small round table and Nicole answered, "That's fine.  I have some questions, Mr. Chavel.  I really do not understand your interest in me.  I don't fit the image of a clothing model."

"I thought you might wonder about that," He smiled.  "You would be accurate according to most fashion experts in the industry; however, my goal with my newest line of clothing is to appeal to the average woman.  Are you aware that the largest age group of women is between the ages of 45 and 70 years old?  There is a wide open business opportunity here.  They have time to shop and money to spend.  But they want to see what the product looks like on real women.  That's where you come in."

He stood and said, "I would like to show you some photos of my work, and also some of your twin, Megan."

Nicole nodded, and he stepped into the suite and back out a moment later with a laptop.  He hit several buttons, then smiled and turned the computer towards her. 

Nicole would not have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes.  It appeared as though she were looking at herself there on the screen.  She was speechless and unaware that her mouth was hanging open.

She was so lost in thought as she examined every detail of the woman on the screen that she didn't hear Mrs. Smith approaching.  "You weren't kidding Peter.  She's a dead ringer for Megan."

Still in shock, Nicole turned and looked at the stylishly handsome middle aged woman.  Mr. Chavel stood up and said, Nicole, I would like to introduce Mrs. Smith, my assistant.  Dorothy, this is Nicole, hopefully our new fashion model." 

Mrs. Smith reached out to shake Nicole's hand.  She was smiling, but somehow the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.  As Nicole took the woman's hand, it seemed as though the fog that had been pressing in on her all day finally descended and planted itself firmly in her mind.  Nicole shivered in spite of the warm afternoon. 

The three of them sat at the table and Mr. Chavel was explaining something about the clothing style they were targeting.  She sat there listening, and yet there was a thought that was boiling somewhere in the back of her mind that she just couldn't quite grab hold of. 

"Nicole?  Are you alright?... Nicole?"

"Oh, Mr. Chavel, I'm fine. Yes.  I guess all of this is a little much to comprehend," she said.

"Peter.  You must call me Peter.

"Peter is it then.  Thank you."

"I was just saying that I'm going to pull up some pictures of the new clothing line so that you can get a better feel for what we are after," he continued.

They looked at several pages of stylish yet casual clothes that were being modeled by Megan.  Nicole was getting more uncomfortable with every page.  It wasn't the clothes that bothered her.  She would have been comfortable wearing any of those she saw. 

Finally she said, "I don't think that this is for me.  No matter how much I look like this other person, Megan, I am not her.  I have a life here that I love.  If I took this job, what would my life look like?"

Mrs. Smith answered with a smile.  "You would get to travel a lot.  You would be going to many exciting cities around the world, staying in the best hotels and meeting many exciting new people.  I dare say you would love it!"

Nicole didn't smile.  "So I would be gone from home a lot.  What about my job here?"

Peter said, "Yes, you would.  You would be home, I'd say…about eight to ten days a month.  This is all assuming that you do well in the auditions."

"Auditions?" Nicole asked.

Mrs. Smith said, "Of course dear.  Modeling is not only about wearing the clothes.  It's about delivery.  A good model presents the clothes with a presence that makes them come alive with personality and appeal so that others will desire to own them."

Peter spoke up encouragingly, "Megan was exceptional in doing this, and I'm sure that you can be too with a little practice.  Don't worry, we wouldn't put you in the auditions without training you."

"I'll tell you what," Mrs. Smith said.  "Come with me and I'll show you a few items of clothing that you can try on and just see how you feel in them.  And then you can go home and think about all this."  She rested her hand over Nicole's for a moment.  "I can only imagine how shocking this must be for you.  Seeing the clothes might help you to think this through."

"Great idea Dorothy!" Peter agreed.

Nicole was a little uneasy, but followed Mrs. Smith into the suite.  "Come on back into the bedroom, dear, the clothes are in here."  She pulled a couple things out of a designer bag and handed them to Nicole.  "You can put these on in there."  She pointed to the bathroom. 

Nicole came out wearing a very nice but casual, form fitting red sweat shirt with a flouncy grey skirt.  She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw that she looked good!  She felt invigorated as well.  Maybe she could do this! 

"You look marvelous!" Mrs. Smith gushed.

Peter came and stood in the bedroom doorway.  He was smiling from ear to ear.  "I feel as if we have our Megan back with us," he said.

"How do you feel in them, dear?" Mrs. Smith asked. 

"I feel great," she replied.