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The limo is taking me to my first big photo shoot. Everything is happening so fast that I can not comprehend what is happening to me. It’s been less than a week since my official coming out party as Mr. Peak’s “girl.” Since then, there have been interviews and party invitations. But this is getting to be too much!
The limo stops in front of a contemporary building down in Soho. An as**sistant leads me inside. I am taken to the rooftop patio where I will be participating in a photo shoot with other women who are equally famous yet much more accomplished than myself.
The other women are all glamorous beyond words. I feel like I should be fetching someone coffee. I am escorted to a makeup and hair area where I will be made beautiful for the cameras. Gee, I hope they can work their magic on my ordinary features.
After an hour of serious work by the hair and make-up department, I am taken to my spot for the shoot. The photographer barks her orders at the as**sistants who ensure the lighting is perfect. All of the other women around me act as though this is a natural day at the office. I, on the other hand, am about ready to freak out.
I can’t believe I am standing here. Next to me is a famous Academy Award winning actress. On the other side of me is the CEO of one of the top fashion houses in Manhattan. The ten of us have one thing in common. We have been named, by Vanity Fair, as the Ten Most Intriguing Women in New York.
My mind flashes back to that fateful last Sunday when I was introduced as Mr. Peak’s girl at the Met Gala. The media started asking me questions. They started yelling my name. At the beginning of the party, I found myself rubbing elbows with the richest, most famous and most powerful people in New York.
The next day, I was famous.
I’ll never forget opening up the New York Post and saying my photo inside. “The Billionaire’s Brash Babe” read the headline. The phone started to ring right away with requests for interviews, endorsement deals and photoshoots. One modeling agency even offered to sign me on the spot. This whole week has been a whirlwind of attention.
Mr. Peak is more than happy to see me gain all of this attention. After all, it makes him look good. My controlling boss gets an exciting, hot girlfriend which is a product of his invention. He doesn’t have to worry about me getting carried away with the attention. I know that if my head gets too big, my bottom will get a spanking.
When Vanity Fair called and asked me to attend today’s photo shoot, I made sure it was okay with my big boss. “Go ahead. Have some fun,” Mr. Peak says.
I kiss him on the cheek and as**sure him, “Sir, I will make you look good!”
So here I am, wearing a simple black Prada dress with spaghetti straps amongst New York’s most famous models, actresses, designers and writers. All the women tell me I look gorgeous and that my face is very photogenic. I still don’t know if they mean it or if they are just trying to kiss my as**s. Either way, I’ll take it.
The photographer takes a group photo as the sun begins to set over Central Park. The view is magnificent. We are all literally on top of the world. As the shoot winds down, I find more and more of the people staring at me. Yes, out of the ten, I am the least known. I am the “enigma.”
When the shoot is over, my PR rep runs up and smiles. She is nearly ready to jump out of her skin. “I don’t know how to tell you this but J.T. Marcos wants to meet with you.” I nearly pass out. J.T. Marcos is pretty much the hottest director in Hollywood right now. The 30 year old phenom is known for his star-making roles. Everyone in Hollywood wants to work with this guy. And he wants to meet me. I can’t wait to tell Mr. Peak.
I walk with my PR rep down to the elevators. We get to the ground floor of the building. As we walk out, about a dozen paparazzi guys are flashing shots. I look behind me wondering which of the famous girls are being photographed. I realize there is no one behind me. Oh my God. All of these photographers were waiting for me.
We rush into a Rolls-Royce Phantom and take off to Mr. Peak’s townhouse. The PR girl looks at me with a smile and says, “I have never seen someone get so famous so fast.”
I giggle and tell her, “I’m just doing my job.”
We get to the townhouse. As we open the door to the Rolls Royce, three more photographers are waiting for me on the sidewalk. One of the guys steps between me and the townhouse. I instinctively swat his camera to the side. “Bitch!” the photographer yells at me.
I give him the middle finger and tell him to, “Go f**k your mother!” Wow. I must be in New York too long.
When I get inside, Mr. Peak’s as**sistant Gabe is waiting for me. “How was the shoot, Miss Sulamari?”
