Read All That Glitters for Free Online Page A

smudge her make-up. She’d had photographs taken before, of course, but nothing like this. She was being treated like a professional model, and it was just so much fun. There were two people there to do her make-up, one hairdresser, and the photographer himself had three assistants, who rushed around taking light measurements and calling out numbers from a computer. It was glamorous, exciting, and exactly how she imagined a photographer’s studio to be like, right down to the tiny canapés and bottles of Evian laid out on a table to the side.
    ‘Now swing your hip a little and look directly at me. Come on Ella, look like you want to fuck me but in an ice-cold model way,’ the photographer said in a husky voice.
    Ella pouted and then burst out laughing, and the photographer snapped away. She was wearing a ripped Wildfox tank vest, tight leather biker trousers from Alexander McQueen, super-high Giuseppe Zanotti ruched boots, and a Vivienne Westwood silver ring that had been sprayed with Swarovski crystals. Her hair had been tousled and backcombed, and lashings of smoky eyeliner made her violet eyes pop.
    It was a sexy, aggressive rock-chick look, and something she’d never dare wear as Danny Riding’s wife.
    She loved it.
    ‘Just a couple more frames to go,’ the photographer announced, and Ella moved in time with the background music, letting the pink lights overhead shine through her glossy hair. She was having the time of her life.
    ‘And that, my darling, is a wrap.’
    Tatiana – the fashion editor for Cerise – put down her cup of coffee and walked from the back of the studio over to Ella. She was clapping.
    ‘That was brilliant.’ Tatiana smiled. ‘You’re a natural, and from the shots I saw on the computer, the camera loves you. And you really nailed that last outfit; you should wear pieces like that more often, and think about doing more modelling.’
    Ella looked down at her ripped top and laughed. ‘I’m not sure I could really get away with wearing this on the football terraces . . . although that dove Donna Karan dress would be perfect for a dinner party. I loved how the wisps of silk and chiffon softened the structure of it. It was beautiful.’
    Tatiana nodded. She’d thought the same thing when Ella had been modelling it. The light grey of the dress had made her look sophisticated and classy. She really was a world away from the other footballers’ wives.
    ‘And before I collapse with exhaustion, I just wanted to say thank you for letting me do this. It’s been so much fun to choose all these outfits and shoot them. It’s been like a long day of dressing up.’
    ‘A really long day,’ Tatiana agreed. ‘I know it’s pressing ten p.m., but I’d really like to get some quotes from you on each of the outfits . . . you know, the inspiration behind them, where you’d wear them, and why you think they’re revelant.’
    ‘No problem!’ Ella said happily. And it really wasn’t. Because even though Ella was shattered, she was having the time of her life and she didn’t want it to end. She loved fashion and had always been addicted to the high street, but since marrying Danny she’d really been able to indulge herself in it, and was starting to get to know and understand the designer pieces that inspired hundreds of high street copies.
    ‘You know, I really liked how you put the Donna Karan with the Louboutin ankle boots,’ Tatiana mused, as she concentrated on the photos. ‘You must have picked up some tips from your stylist.’
    ‘Oh, I don’t have a stylist,’ Ella said. ‘I never have done.’
    Tatiana looked up at Ella thoughtfully. ‘But you always look so well put together when you get snapped by the paparazzi.’
    Ella smiled and shrugged. ‘I just like clothes, I suppose. For years I couldn’t afford anything designer, and dressed quite scruffily. But I love fashion. Not the way-out, wearing-clashing-stuff kind of fashion, but I adore beautifully made