Carla’s Tale – Part 3
Please make sure you have read Carla’s Tale Parts 1 and 2 before reading this.
“I would like you to be the public face of Gravità Z-Ro for next year.” Lorenzo suddenly hit her with this statement after studying her face for fully two minutes in silence. “Huh?” Carla muttered, leaning her head to one side in a quizzical gesture. “That’s right,” he continued, “I would love for you to front all of our marketing for the next year at the very least. Could you do that? Your face would appear in all of our advertisements, you would be in all of the TV and cinema commercials, your beautiful smile would grace every advertising hoarding from Tulsa to Timbuktu. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for – beautiful, vivacious, striking, terrific attitude, a bit of a tomboy, and with a definite rebel streak. You are a marketing consultant’s gift from heaven. And best of all, you are genuinely seriously myopic. What do you say?” Carla thought for a minute. “I already have a job. I wouldn’t want to risk losing it. I couldn’t afford to. And I couldn’t do all that stuff. No, I’m not what you want.” “You are exactly what I want,” Lorenzo continued, with a hurt look on his face. “You are exactly what I need, my dear. Let me answer your concerns. This will be a proper job. You will get a very good salary, probably about ten times what you earn at present, so you CAN afford to. And of course you can do all that stuff – just act naturally because you ARE a natural, my love. Will you let me do some trial shots to prove it? Just for fun?” “OK”, Carla said, “it can’t do any harm.” Lorenzo got his camera out, and then started taking shots of Carla smiling, frowning, teasing with her tongue licking her lips, then with her looking naughtily over her glasses, and finally with her holding her glasses and sucking the leg in pensive mood. “Wonderful, wonderful,” Lorenzo shouted, like an excited little boy. Now, can you tell me what you are wearing under your top and shorts?” Alarm bells started ringing in Carla’s head, and she asked “Why?” “We will also need a certain amount of sexual content, but don’t worry my pretty, it is in the best possible taste and fully under artistic licence,” explained Lorenzo. “I have on a bikini – nothing else,” Carla said. This was her standard summer wear as she was sure to end up on a beach somewhere before the day was over. “Excellent, excellent,” Lorenzo shouted, clapping his hands like the little boy again. “Please take off your shorts and top.” Carla did as he asked, and he started snapping her in automatic mode like a demon possessed. He really knew what he was doing. He taunted her, teased her, encouraged her, played with her, and unashamedly flirted with her as she posed on the deck, leaned on the rail, sat on a bollard and pouted at the camera, wrapped her leg sexily around a rope, smoked seductively for the camera, all of the time an absolute beauty in a bikini with those beautiful big glasses. Lorenzo was seriously aroused by this girl and her seemingly natural antics. “I think we have definitely found ‘The Face of Gravità Z-Ro’ for next year. You will do it? Please say yes. PLEASE!” “OK, I will,” she said. It had to be an improvement on her current situation.
They sat down and talked a bit more over a glass of wine and a cigarette. Lorenzo asked if she was free to start immediately, and she said more or less. She would have to go home for her clothes and personal stuff, tell her employer that she was taking two weeks vacation as she didn’t want to resign just yet until she was sure this was for her. Lorenzo told her she would have free use of the company guest villa they had in Sanremo. They made arrangements to meet up at the jetty the following morning, and then the boat would leave for Sanremo. Carla went back to the jetty which Paul used and waited for him to arrive. All of the way home in his boat she couldn’t stop talking about her new adventure. Paul listened and seemed genuinely excited for her. “Only one trouble,” he said, “I won’t be seeing so much of you,” and he frowned like a little spoilt child. “You will,” she immediately replied, “I will make sure of that.”
Over the next few weeks, Carla was treated like a film star. She moved into the company villa. She worked out daily in an elite fitness and beauty club which the company owned, and best of all, the first thing she did was attend the in-house optician’s consulting suite where she was given a very thorough eye examination. The test confirmed that she was now indeed -11.50 in each eye, and the doctor prescribed her at -12 as he said he ‘liked round figures’, and she would probably reach that in a few months because of her age, so it would save a repeat test. Then she was presented with a selection of around 50 frames from the new season’s collection, and told to pick 25 of her choice which she could use daily, and the rest would be made to her prescription also for use in photo shoots. She chose a selection of the new drop temples, rimless, semi-rimless, and some very, very beautiful evening wear frames that she totally fell in love with. Carla thought all of her Christmases had come at once!
Carla also kept in touch with her friends Paul, and Claudette from the shop. By now, she had officially resigned from her job in the market. One day, Lorenzo told her they were going in the yacht to a remote uninhabited island called Îlot de la Gabinière, not too far from St Tropez, to do some photo shoots in front of the amazing rock formations on its shoreline. Carla was to take all of the glasses in 3 aluminium flight cases, and told to guard them with her life. She phoned Paul to tell him where she was going, and he said he would come out in his boat in between trips to see her. She was really looking forward to seeing him again.
They set off at a fast pace to the island, and Carla sunbathed on the deck. She had on a pair of large black plastic framed glasses with photochromic lenses, which to the casual observer just looked like normal sunglasses, until you looked closely and observed the power rings and the cut-in. Lorenzo came up to her as they approached the island and said, “I’m worried you are getting too much sun my dear. Why don’t you go below deck and put on more cream, have a rest and a cool drink? I will call you when I need you.” Carla thought for a minute, and said, “No, I’m OK. I’ll stay here.” Lorenzo looked her straight in the eye, and said, “You misunderstand me, my dear. You WILL go down below deck and stay there until I call you. Do you understand?” She was immediately frightened. She had never seen him like that before. He was menacing. He had a dangerous glint in his eye. She did as she was told.
She eventually felt the boat slow down, and waited to be called. She waited, and waited. Then she heard another boat approach. It pulled alongside, and she heard voices, but couldn’t make out what was being said. She tried to squint through the window, with her glasses hard against the glass. She saw a man, a woman and a child being helped aboard Lorenzo’s yacht, some shouts, and then the boat left. At that point Lorenzo came into her suite with a flight case in his hand. He put it beside the other three flight cases containing the glasses and said, “Another consignment my dear. Take good care of it. Now, wait here until I call you.”
Carla sat still, lit a cigarette to have along with her drink, and then heard the noise. It was another boat. This one had a very loud powerful engine. It pulled up quite suddenly alongside the yacht, and the wash from its wake rocked the yacht. Then Carla heard the loudhailer. “Attention, attention Gravità Z-Ro. This is the police. You are under arrest. I repeat, you are under arrest. We have a gun trained on you, do not try anything. Remove your keys from the ignition as we come alongside, and throw them to us. Prepare yourself for a boarding and stand against the railing facing the sea with your hands behind your heads. All of you. We are coming aboard.” Carla froze. Through the window she could see the police launch and an officer on the bow with what looked like a sub machine gun trained on the yacht.
She grabbed her phone and dialled a number.
To be continued.