Tony nodded. “What’s amazing is that it’s all eyes. Her face is completely expressionless. She’s not scowling or snarling or even frowning, it’s all coming from the eyes.”

Jaxxon was getting rather sick of being spoken about like she wasn’t there. “Well?” she demanded, hands on hips. “Can I get down from this sodding platform now or what?”

“Congratulations,” said Ollie in a smooth voice as he shot her a wide, excited smile. “You are now the face of Allure Cosmetics.”


Two Months Later

At forty years of age and after twenty-four years in the cosmetics industry, Ollie was no stranger to campaign launches…but this was like no other. Oh everything was normal in terms of schedule: there had been no delays and the reporters were waiting patiently in the elegantly prepared convention room of the five-star-plus hotel for the speakers to introduce the face of Allure. Everything was normal in terms of the preparations; the presentation platform was all set up, the impeccably packaged Allure products were on display in a neat yet arty arrangement, everyone was where they were supposed to be, and everything was ready for the Launch Party that was due to start shortly in the ballroom of the hotel. But what he saw when he walked into the upstairs suite where Jaxxon was being ‘groomed’, as she called it, knocked him for six.

Usually he would have to make an entrance with a booming voice to attract the attention of all the people nervously fussing and busy-bodying around while obsessing over every little detail of the model – hair, make-up, clothes, posture – but in this suite was total silence. Not only that, but there weren’t make-up products lying here there and everywhere. Not one soul in the room was standing. His instinct was to seize up; something had to have gone wrong. But it wasn’t a mortified or nervous silence.

His eyes were drawn immediately to the stunning young woman perched on the arm of a bulky chair. She was dressed in the stylishly casual D & G outfit that was designed especially and exclusively for her: a pair of sea-blue, skin-tight jeans that were a kind of velvety denim, and a light-lemon V-neck top that casually drooped at one shoulder. They hadn’t wanted her in an extravagant dress; that just didn’t suit her character – which was just as well because she was refusing to ‘look like an ornament’ anyway. As casual as her outfit was designed to be, it was still chic and cutting-edge and it highlighted each of her sinful curves. That along with the subtle yet eye-catching use of Allure products on her face and Jaxxon looked as glamorous as all hell.

“You alright?” Jaxxon asked Ollie, who seemed a little odd at the minute.

“Just wondering why there’s a deathly silence in here.”

“I haven’t threatened them with the loss of important body parts if that’s what you’re wondering. They’re fine, watch.” Then she smiled as she sang the nursery rhyme words, “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands.”

There was then laughter and clapping. Ollie could only shake his head and chuckle.

“She told us to put everything away,” said Louisa as she gazed at Jaxxon fondly.

Ollie found that he hadn’t been able to look at Louisa very long without laughing since Jaxxon had pointed out that she had a Morticia Addams vibe about her. Jaxxon hadn’t been poking fun or making an insult, it was purely an observation. Louisa even agreed with her. Oh Ollie did love her bluntness.

“Yes because there was a bloody self-correction epidemic going on,” said Jaxxon. “They were all done with the grooming ages ago but kept constantly coming back fixing what didn’t need to be fixed and seeing mistakes that weren’t even there. Then Louisa nearly had a panic attack when she discovered that I hadn’t been exaggerating when I said that no matter what brush or gel or spray she used these curls of mine always did their own thing.”

“That’s what I like about them. They’re wild like you and those eyes of yours.”

Just then Richie appeared behind Ollie and experienced the same confusion and panic. “Is something wrong?”

“Jaxxon insisted we pack up our stuff and just sit and relax,” said Kieran, the chief make-up artist. “We’ve been talking about that new soap on telly about Scousers. Did you watch the first episode last week?”

Richie stared at the young woman in awe. Dear God, he and Ollie in all their years had never mastered the art of calming the team. She had won people over so effortlessly, even the rather antisocial wardrobe assistant. “Who sent the flowers?”

“Oh they’re from Tony and his wife,” she said. On the day that Ollie and Richie had chosen her as the face of Allure, Tony had insisted on giving her a lift home after the photo-shoot – then he had seen the block of flats she lived in and turned right back around, refusing to let her go back there. After much disputing Tony apologised for his daddy approach and, in a much gentler tone, offered for her to rent – because she refused to stay there for free – the annexe of his house. Only when he agreed for her to bring Bronty was the deal sealed. Both he and his wife were trying to discourage her from getting an apartment and to stay in their annexe but Jaxxon had been looking forward to having something that was hers. Plus, as much as she adored Lily and Tony, they tried to baby her through the process of going from one lifestyle to another. The gentle approach wasn’t Jaxxon’s way. She wanted to face all the sudden changes head-on and find her own two feet.

“Now remember, Jaxxon,” said Ollie in a serious tone, “because your name was leaked to the tabloids they’ll have done some digging and will know a bit about you and there’s a good chance they’ll shoot some questions at you that you might find uncomfortable.”

“You mean about my past. Personal stuff.”

He nodded. “If there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable answering just signal to me by tucking your curls behind your ear and I’ll tackle the question for you.”

Richie shot her a reassuring look. “I’m sure you’ll be fine but I know this is all new to you so if at any time you feel overwhelmed just signal to me by joining your hands behind your back.”

“Jesus, you’re making this sound like a covert operation,” said Jaxxon, which received plenty of chuckles. “I take it you’re here to take me down now.” She would never have admitted it, but she was so nervous she was close to shaking.

“Indeed we are,” confirmed Richie, ushering her out of the room. He waited while everyone from the team wished her good luck and told her how amazing she looked, something he very much agreed with. Something that he was sure the entire world would agree with.

Once they reached the convention room, Ollie – as Chairman of the cosmetics house – and Richie – as vice president of it – took their places on the presentation podium, keeping Jaxxon hidden behind the curtains at the rear of it. The two men each made a speech about the innovative and stylish Allure products themselves and revealed that the release date was exactly three weeks from this day. Then, after indicating the free samples around the reporters, Ollie introduced ‘the face of Allure’.

He watched as Jaxxon – in that natural catlike grace that she had – came to join them at the front of the podium. She was as breath-taking and mesmerising as always and received a massive, welcoming applause. She didn’t smile and pose for the flashing cameras, just as he knew she wouldn’t. But she wasn’t distancing herself from these reporters, it wasn’t an act of ignorance. She somehow managed to make eye contact with each person in the room, as if she was acknowledging them. Didn’t everyone enjoy the idea of being acknowledged by a woman so entrancing and captivating? More amazingly, all this was done on a subconscious level on her part. She clearly had no idea of the kind of effect she had on others around her.

It wasn’t long before questions were being shot at her from all angles. The first few were benign and related to the campaign and her contract and what was happening next and the designer of her outfit. Then, of course, the subject of her past was brought up. First it was relatively simple questions such as where she grew up, but then a particular question made Ollie tense even though he had been expecting it.

“Is it true, Jaxxon, that you spent the majority of your childhood in foster care?” one reporter asked.

“Yes,” Jaxxon answered simply and clearly. There was no shame or discomfort in her tone, and she noticed that that seemed to have surprised people. Why should she be embarrassed?

“And is it true that your mother committed suicide?” the same reported asked.

“Yes,” she said just as clearly and, still, with no shame or embarrassment.

Then a question was fired at Richie from a different reporter: “The rumour, Mr Moore, is that you discovered Jaxxon when she was working in a run-down pub.”

Richie smiled. “It’s always a surprise when a rumour is true. In this case, yes.”

After another series of questions at Richie a new male reporter: “Did it not concern you that her poor upbringing might make it extremely difficult for her to deal with a lifestyle that is at the other end of the spectrum? That perhaps she might find the pressures hard to bear?”

“You know, I really don’t like it when people talk like I’m not there,” said Jaxxon with a sigh. “Here’s something for you all to jot down on your little pads: a crap upbringing doesn’t make someone weak, it makes them strong or how else could they get through it? I’ve never liked that people seem to think that anyone who’s been brought up in care are destined to lead a life of poverty and crime. It’s postcode lottery.”