“She’s not a model. Not anymore,” he said. Tommy went on to explain how Jenna was a hot property when she was sixteen and seventeen. But her body matured after she turned eighteen. Her breasts got fuller, her hips spread, and she got some butt. “She got fat, honey,” Tommy said. “You know these Nancy’s like these girls to be skinny as a rail.”
I looked at the model that was walking across the stage in front of me. “Practically anorexic,” I commented.
“I’m sayin’: that one is all skin and bones,” Tommy agreed. “Anyway. When Jenna couldn’t drop the weight, she was a has-been as a model. Now she dresses them.”
“I want to meet her.”
Tommy introduced us that night, I gave her my card, and after I assured her that I wasn’t a lesbian trying to pick her up, we agreed to meet for dinner the following evening. I arrived dressed in a Proenza Schouler one-shoulder bubble dress with an asymmetrical neckline wrapped along the waist’s bubble hem; Proenza Schouler wedge ankle boots; and a 24-carat diamond ring with earrings to match, and a diamond-studded watch. As we talked about her former modeling career over dinner, I could tell that she was looking at the diamonds. I was purposely vague when she asked what I did for a living. I told her that I did recruiting and training, and that seemed to satisfy her for the moment.
I spoke with her daily for the next couple of days. Nothing more than “Hi, how’s it going,” and some idle chit-chat. Then I called her early one morning and asked if she wanted to go to a party with me. “Really, Jada.”
“Really, Jenna. But this is a very upscale affair and I don’t mean to be rude, but do you have an evening gown?”
“No,” Jenna said and sounded dejected.
I told her that I would pick her up in an hour and we spent the day shopping. I bought her a Carmen Marc Valvo ruched-satin cocktail dress with a sexy double V-neck to wear that evening. Along with Jimmy Choo lance-mirrored sandals and a clutch bag to match. That night at the party, Jenna asked me again what I did for a living, but before I could answer, she said, “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you do, Jada, I want to be a part of it.”
So I told her what I did, what I would do for her, and what I wanted her to do. “Do you still want to be a part of it?” I asked.
Jenna looked me in the eyes. “When do we start?”
I brought Jenna in to replace my top earner and best friend, Diane. She was my top earner, male or female client didn’t matter, Diane put in the work. One afternoon, I was sitting around the apartment relaxing with Diane and we were talking about our increase in business. I had just offered her, her choice of the last three appointments that came in. “What times are they?”