Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel
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Authors: Dana V. Moison
Dark Illusion
By
Dana V. Moison
Dark Illusion
Dana V. Moison
No Content may be copied,
distributed, published
or used in any way, in
whole or in part, without prior written
agreement from the book
author and Kindle Direct Publishing.
Copyright (c) 2015
Dana V. Moison
All Rights Reserved
Dedicated
to my dear mother, with great love.
You
are a true model of inspiration.
April 24, 1990
S
he could not take it anymore. The
distorted figure looked at her from every angle, from every corner. She felt
her throat constrict.
She had to do something.
She slammed her body up against
the walls, spinning around in ecstasy, smashing the mirrors around her, feeling
fresh cuts form on her skin and drops of blood begin to spill. The pain was
cathartic.
She struck her head a third time.
She could no longer stand up. She fell to the floor and her eyes closed. A
sense of relief washed over her, a victorious smile spreading across her face.
Now she was ready to open her eyes and enjoy the sweet darkness that
encompassed her. No one would ridicule her anymore. No one could see her.
W
hat a
cliché. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was, in fact, a
real-life supermodel.
Even as a young photographer,
Andy Swain was rarely dazzled by the models posing in front of his camera lens.
He did not perceive himself to be one who could be blinded by appearances, but
this time his eyes were uncontrollably drawn, like a magnet.
How the mighty have fallen.
Andy accepted a glass of bubbly
from one of the myriad waiters shifting through the crowd. Everyone who was
anyone in the fashion industry was here. He looked away but his eyes kept
returning to her, again and again.
She really is something
,
he thought to himself. Her body was shaped like an hourglass and her facial
features were striking, as if drawn by a painter. She had an enviable agelessness
to her, ironically enhanced by the few tiny lines that her smile had rendered.
Her eyes, a glistening deep blue, combined with her lustrous dark hair,
provided a stunning contrast to her porcelain skin.
Andy had heard other
photographers swear that she was, indeed, the most beautiful woman on earth.
“Great legends require great exaggerations,” he would reply, wryly. Now,
however, a few steps away from the global icon that was Gloria McIntyre, he
realized how wrong he had been.
I’m lucky I don’t have my hat.
Otherwise I’d be forced to eat it.
She looked bored, as if she’d
rather be someplace else. She wasn’t speaking with anyone. Andy moved closer,
emboldened by what he knew he had to say to her.
Eventually he approached her, but
found himself suddenly lost for words.
“You are just . . .” Andy let his
voice linger. That was not how he wanted to make his first move. He didn’t want
to gush over her like one of
those
guys. He never thought he would. He
wasn’t the kind of man who had trouble finding the right words around beautiful
women.
Well, there’s a first time for
everything.
“. . . I mean, you are a very
impressive woman indeed. I wanted to–“
“Thanks,” Gloria nonchalantly
interrupted him. She had heard proclamations such as this many times before.
At first she didn’t notice the
young man standing in front of her, but when she glanced at him again, she
could hardly take her eyes off of him. He was so handsome. His golden locks
drooped over his olive green eyes, and his smile was absolutely captivating.
Maybe it’s worth it to let him
finish talking.
Gloria took a second look. If he
was invited to this party, it must mean he was from the industry, she figured.
But then she would have known him already.
So who is he?
she wondered.
Gloria liked to know exactly with what, or with whom, she was dealing.
“Gloria,” she introduced
herself curtly, although she knew it wasn’t necessary.
“Andy Swain,” he said, offering
his hand.
His hand hung in the air. When
Gloria saw he didn’t intend to back down, she extended her hand to meet his.
“Your name sounds familiar.”
“That would be my father, Andrew
Swain, Sr. He founded A&A Swain, the legal firm.”
So he was a lawyer, specializing
in tedious small talk no doubt. And, yet, there was something about him,
something appealing. She looked into his eyes.
“A&A? Are you working for
your father then?”
Andy shook his head. “No, those
are our initials, my father’s and mine. He wanted me to become a lawyer, to
join the firm and continue his legacy. But I chose to become a photographer.
And still, the name remains. Perhaps he hopes I’ll change my mind but . . .”
Andy shrugged and grinned.
“You gave up being a high-priced
lawyer for this?” she asked, looking around.
“Not exactly,” he admitted with a
self-deprecating smile. “Artistic photography is my real passion,” he surprised
her. Andy preferred to omit the fact that in order to afford his art practice,
he needed to shoot models for a living.
“Ah, so that’s why you came to a
fashion website promo party,” she teased. “Tell me, then, what do you see as
art here?”
Gloria swept a graceful hand,
indicating the grand space. The entire west wall was of glass and framed the
Manhattan lights, some steady, some flickering, others in motion, all
overlooking the Hudson River. But even that picturesque panorama failed to
inject any excitement in the dull ambience of this party. It was the same party
that spun over and over again, with the same framework, tasteless food, and
meaningless, often spiteful conversations that never changed.
The only thing different was
Andy.
He shrugged again and laughed. “I
have to admit I pulled a lot of strings to get here.”
“No doubt the effort paid off,” a
tiny smile crept to her lips, an odd phenomenon, as she rarely felt comfortable
with strangers.
“It’s not so bad. I got to meet
you, didn’t I?”
Gloria smiled distantly and
looked away.
“I actually hoped for the chance
to run into you,” he added.
“Me? Why?” she asked, turning her
head toward the skyline.
He may be too eager, but he
sure deserves some points for being bold.
“I wanted to make you a
proposal.” She arched an eyebrow. “I meant a job offer.”
Gloria was completely surprised –
perhaps even a little bit insulted – that he had only come to discuss business
matters with her. She had read him all wrong.
Worshiping models just
ain’t
what it used to be.
“I’m sure you get dozens of
offers every day,” Andy continued, “but I have a feeling you might be
interested in this one.”
Interested in another of an
endless series of photography sessions, one for a magazine cover or fashion
company or makeup campaign? Hardly something special or intriguing. She rolled
her eyes inwardly. Why did people always think their project was any different
from anyone else’s, she wondered.
Where’s the art he was supposedly so
passionate about?
Andy sensed he was losing her
interest. He
had
to make her say yes.
He was talking but she wasn’t
listening. Her eyes, along with her thoughts, so it seemed, had focused on a distant
spot on the horizon. But then the word “art” caught her attention.
“. . . an artistic project
designed to arouse worldly resonance.”
She shifted her gaze back to him.
And . . . she’s back!
Andy
smiled broadly, revealing a pair of perfect-looking dimples.
“I was hired to capture the
true essence of beauty.” “Well, not beauty, but the idea of beauty, if you see
what I mean. I’m talking about an artistic shoot, not just another campaign or
commercial. And that takes a lot of work, starting with finding the ideal
location, designing a magical background, and finding the perfect woman;
because between you and me, there is no doubt that you are the fairer sex,” he
smiled. “That’s why I need you. Now that I’ve seen and met you, I know
that. If you don’t agree to do this with me, I’ll have to back out because I
won’t settle for anything less than perfect; it would defeat the whole purpose.
And as far as I’m concerned, there is no one more suitable for this project
than you.”
It wasn’t just a line, Gloria thought,
looking at him. He appeared earnest, the artist in him revealing a glimpse of
itself.
“I would think you’d be better
off choosing someone younger. After all, most people equate youth with beauty.”
She cut right to the chase. She wanted to test his reaction.
“Superficial ones, yes. But
that’s not what I’m looking for. I want a timelessness, as in real, seemingly
eternal beauty,” Andy grinned. “Think of fine wine that reveals its quality
over time; someone younger would lack that essential maturity.” He paused and
looked into her eyes. ”In any case, I haven’t seen any woman who’s got the drop
on you, young or not. Therefore, I implore you to agree. Because I won’t do
this without you.”
The flattery helped. There was
something about him that won her over, for now.
“It does sound intriguing.”
He clasped his hands together.
“Say you’ll do it!”
“Well, I don’t want to take the
fall for ruining your project.” That rarely seen smile slipped out again.
The truth was less altruistic,
Gloria admitted to herself. Andy’s offer enticed her competitive drive. She was
well aware that, although still in demand, increasingly younger models were
nipping at her heels, threatening to make people believe that she was
yesterday’s news. If she was going to retain that precarious perch at the top
of the modeling world, she needed something to set her apart. Being crowned and
marketed as the Ideal of Beauty might just do the trick. Then, no one could top
her.
“I’d need to know more,” she
warned. “And we’d need to discuss all the details with my business manager
before I commit.”
“Great!” he called, as if it were
a done deal, a big smile stretching across his face. “May I have your business
card?”
* * *
Gloria sat with Arthur Cohen and her lawyer on one end of the table,
while Andy and his lawyer occupied the other end. They were meeting to discuss
the details of the contract.
Arthur Cohen was Gloria’s
personal manager. She did not have an agent; she didn’t like them. Gloria was
not one of those models who snapped up every offer available, and she was
determined to participate in every decision affecting her professional route.
She was easily as much a successful businesswoman as a successful model. Gloria
always got what she wanted. Five minutes with her shattered the stereotype that
where beauty existed, brains failed to follow.
Gloria glanced at Arthur’s
profile as he chatted with her lawyer. He really had changed her life. And
although she no longer needed him to guide her through meetings like this, she
was grateful to have him by her side.
She had been seventeen when their
paths first crossed. In desperation, she had taken a job waitressing at a
coffee shop. Her third day on the job and she hated it already. But she
couldn’t afford to quit, not with her mother seriously ill and unable to work
anymore. They had to move thousands of miles away from Gloria’s hometown in
order to provide her mother with the best medical treatment. The bills had been
stacking up and there were no kind neighbors or friendly, familiar faces to
rely on in times of need. Gloria just had to keep this job. It put food on the
table and kept the electricity on in their tiny apartment at least.
Arthur had walked in that day, a
change for him because his usual coffee spot had closed for renovations.
He had taken a long look at the young waitress who served him and sensed that
she was destined for great things. Was it fate, Gloria wondered? Regardless,
she was still grateful that he had chosen her coffee shop over the others
scattered along the block. The sun was shining on that warm spring day and
Arthur had decided, uncharacteristically, to linger over his coffee at an
outside table rather than getting it to go, as most Manhattanites did. The sun
had indeed been shining down on her that day. Her life changed
one-hundred-eighty-degrees as a result.
You’ve come a long way, baby
.
She bit her lip to keep from smiling.
Although modeling and the fashion
industry were not Arthur’s line of business, he had connections which he didn’t
hesitate to exploit on Gloria’s behalf. Two of the top people in the industry
were friends from his college days back when, as idealists, they all dreamed
about changing the world and winning a Nobel Prize. That idealism hadn’t lasted
in the face of money’s allure. Arthur urged his friends to meet her and
wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eventually, they gave in.
There had been no regrets.
Gloria broke into the modeling
world and became a hot commodity in the industry overnight. Everyone wanted
her. As far as the other models were concerned, ones that had been on the rise
until she had come along, they hadn’t stood a chance.
Gloria was grateful that she’d
only been seventeen when Arthur “discovered” her. Nowhere was it truer than in
modeling that time was the enemy, and timing was of the essence. Had she
arrived on the scene on the heels of another model’s big break, her career
might have stalled. She might appear to be in control of her career to those
looking in from the outside, but she knew very well that the industry was the
one pulling all the strings. Only the handful of powerful people controlling
this business had a real say in who would get to be Miss Congeniality, and not
the public, even if they wanted to believe otherwise.
Gloria tilted her head slightly
and pulled herself from her insightful memories back to the decorated meeting
room. It wasn’t time for reminiscing. She leaned over and listened.
After all of their business
affairs had been settled, they moved on to discuss the details of the photo
shoot. Andy had chosen to shoot in a magnificent forest in the southern
peninsula of New Zealand, one he had discovered during his travels. He
explained that the contrast between the wild scenery and Gloria, who looked
like a delicate china doll, would create a breathtaking sight that would be
absolutely mesmerizing. “In other words, perfect,” he concluded with a grin.
Gloria felt excited to commence
this new adventure. Unlike what she was used to, the crew would be pretty
small. Besides Andy, Gloria, and Arthur, it would include a make-up artist, who
was also the hair designer, an assistant photographer, and a general assistant
whose job was to take care of all the logistics. It wasn’t extravagant, but it
was a solid plan. It seemed as though Andy had really thought this through.
There was just one last thing to take care of.
