Alfonso looked vaguely intimidated, which Jenna found both interesting and unusual.
He coughed. ‘Yes, well, let’s see what we’ve got to work with, first. Stand up, will you, Jason? I want to get the measure of you.’
Jason rose and stood with his chin out and shoulders back, as if modelling for a sculpture of a victorious general. His tight T-shirt and jeans showed off his tall, well-made figure to perfect advantage and Jenna thought she could almost see Alfonso’s mouth watering.
‘You could wear anything,’ murmured Alfonso, darting around to take him in from all angles. ‘In fact, you could model. If you’re ever short of a pound or two and worried about starving in your garret, give me a call. I can fix you up with a photographer or two.’
‘I’m not poncing around on no catwalk,’ said Jason, thrusting his chin out still further.
‘Well, the offer’s there if you want it. What are you? Six foot? Six one?’
‘Six and a bit.’
‘Great shoulders, good legs, a dancer’s build, almost. Do you dance?’
‘Bit of head-banging at the disco on a Friday night.’
‘That’s a no, I take it?’
‘I’m not Billy Elliot, no.’
‘And what’s your personal style? I mean, I love what you’ve got on now. Clean, simple. Very young Marlon Brando, James Dean. It could almost work just as is. If you had a big budget to spend on clothes, what would you buy yourself?’
Jason shrugged. ‘Back home, I just wore trackies. Hoodies. I never cared that much what I wore. I suppose I might get myself a decent leather jacket, but I dunno. More likely to spend the money on good paints, cost a fucking fortune, they do.’
‘R
ight. I’m getting a Wild Ones vibe off you, Jason, if you don’t mind my saying.’
Jason looked rather flattered.
‘Sound,’ he said. ‘So what does that mean? What kind of dress-up doll do I get to be?’
Alfonso smiled widely, daring to put a hand on Jason’s shoulder and manipulate him gently into a less aggressive pose.
‘I think you have such a wealth of natural attractiveness and charisma that we can afford to keep it simple.’ Ostensibly, he spoke to Jason, but Jenna knew that he was really addressing her. ‘You’ve got a great body, a really strong face. You’re sexy and you know it. There’s no need to overegg that.’
‘I agree,’ said Jenna eagerly. ‘And he looks like an artist already. Those eyes – such soul.’
Jason snorted. ‘Yeah, baby. You know I’ve got soul.’
Alfonso stepped back, appraising his client as if fixing him in final memory.
Then he went over to the racks.
‘I think I know what I’m aiming for,’ he said, rummaging among the coat-hangers. ‘But let me try a few things. Just for fun, and to perfect my focus.’
He came out with a checked shirt, a pair of very tight, bright green skinny jeans, a fringed scarf and a pair of Converse high-tops.
‘Get bent,’ said Jason, eyeing the jeans. ‘They look like agony.’
‘This is the current artistic look, Jason. Try it for size. You might like it.’
Alfonso directed him behind one of his screens and Jenna waited, grinning at the various exclamations of discomfort and disgust that filtered out from it.
When he came out, with legs like pea green poles, she laughed with delight.
‘I look a right tool,’ he grumbled, as Alfonso rushed forwards with a pair of spectacles and a beanie hat.