TO KELLY, EVERYTHING was happening at a dizzying pace. She quickly learned about the most important aspects of modeling: the agency had given her training courses in image projection, poise, and carriage. Much of modeling was attitude, and to Kelly that meant acting, because she felt neither beautiful nor desirable.

The phrase "overnight sensation" could have been invented for Kelly. She projected not only an exciting, provocative image, but also an air of untouchability that was a challenge to men. Within two years, Kelly had risen to the top tier of models.

She was advertising products in a dozen countries.

Much of Kelly's time was spent in Paris, where some of her agency's most important clients were located.

Once, after a fashion extravaganza in New York, before heading back to Paris, Kelly went to see her mother, who looked older and more careworn. I've got to get her out of here, Kelly thought. I'll buy a nice apartment for her, and take care of her.

Her mother seemed pleased to see her. "I'm glad you're doing so well, Kelly.

Thanks for your monthly checks." "You're welcome. Mother, there's something I want to talk to you about. I have a plan all worked out.

I want you to leave-" "Well, look who's come to pay us a visit-her highness." Her stepfather had just walked in. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be strutting around in them fancy clothes?" I'll have to do this another time, Kelly thought.

* * *

KELLY HAD ONE more stop to make. She went to the public library where she had spent so many wonderful hours, and as she walked through the door, holding half a dozen magazines, her mind was dancing with memories.

Mrs. Houston was not at her desk. Kelly walked inside and saw her standing in one of the side aisles, looking radiant in a sleek, tailored dress, busily filling a shelf with books.

As Mrs. Houston heard the door open, she said, "I'll be with you in a moment." She turned. "Kelly!" It was almost a scream. "Oh, Kelly." They ran to each other and embraced.

Mrs. Houston pulled back and looked at Kelly. "I can't believe it's you. What are you doing in town?" "I came to see my mother, but I wanted to see you, too." "I'm so proud of you. You have no idea." "Mrs. Houston, do you remember when I asked how I could thank you? You said I could thank you by letting you see my picture in a fashion magazine. Here." And Kelly put the pile of fashion magazines in Mrs. Houston's arms. There were copies of Elle, Cosmopolitan, Mademoiselle, and Vogue. She was on the cover of each one.

"They're beautiful." Mrs. Houston was beaming. "I want to show you something." She went behind her desk and pulled out copies of the same magazines.

It took a moment before Kelly could speak. "What can I ever do to thank you? You changed my life." "No, Kelly. You changed your life. All I did was give you a little push. And Kelly-" "Yes?" "Thanks to you I've become a fashion plate."

* * *

SINCE KELLY VALUED her privacy, her fame sometimes was troublesome. The constant barrage of photographers annoyed her, and she had what amounted to a phobia of being approached by people she did not know. Kelly enjoyed being alone.

One day, she was having lunch at Restaurant le Cinq at the George V Hotel, when a badly dressed man passing by stopped to stare at her. He had the pallid, unhealthy complexion of someone who spent all his time indoors. He was carrying a copy of Elle, opened to a page of photographs of Kelly.

"Excuse me," the stranger said.

Kelly looked up, annoyed. "Yes?" "I saw your-I read this article about you, and it says that you were born in Philadelphia." His voice grew enthusiastic. "I was born there, too, and when I saw your pictures, I felt like I knew you and-" Kelly said coldly, "You don't, and I don't like strange men bothering me." "Oh, I'm sorry." He swallowed. "I didn't mean to-I'm not strange. I mean-my name is Mark Harris, and I work for Kingsley International Group. When I saw you here, I-I thought maybe you didn't like having lunch alone and that you and I could-" Kelly gave him a scathing look. "You thought wrong. Now I'd like you to leave." He was stammering. "I-I didn't mean to intrude. It's just that I-" He saw the look on her face.

"I'm going." Kelly watched him walk out the door, carrying the magazine with him. Good riddance.

* * *

KELLY HAD SIGNED to do a week of layouts for several fashion magazines. The day after her encounter with Mark Harris, she was in the models' dressing room, getting dressed, when three dozen roses arrived for her. The card read: Please forgive me for bothering you.

Mark Harris.

Kelly ripped up the card. "Send the flowers to the children's hospital." The next morning the wardrobe mistress came into the dressing room again, with a package.

"Some man left this for you, Kelly." In it was a single orchid. The card read: I hope I'm forgiven. Mark Harris.

Kelly tore up the card. "Keep the flower."

* * *

AFTER THAT, MARK Harris's gifts came almost daily: a small basket of fruit, a mood ring, a toy Santa Claus. Kelly threw them all into a wastebasket. The next gift that arrived was different: it was an adorable French poodle puppy with a red ribbon around its neck with a card:

This is "Angel." I hope you'll love her as much as I do. Mark Harris.

Kelly dialed Information and got the number of Kingsley International Group.

When their operator answered, Kelly asked, "Do you have a Mark Harris working there?" "Oui, mademoiselle." "Could I speak with him, please?" "Un moment." A minute later Kelly heard his familiar voice. "Hello?" "Mr. Harris?" "Yes." "This is Kelly. I've decided to take you up on your invitation to lunch." There was a stunned silence, then, "Really? That's-that's wonderful." Kelly could hear the excitement in his voice.

"Laurent today, at one?" "That will be great. Thank you so much. I-" "I'll make the reservation. Good-bye."

* * *

MARK HARRIS WAS standing, waiting at a table at Laurent, when Kelly strode in, carrying the puppy.

Mark's face lit up. "You-you came. I wasn't sure that-and you brought Angel." "Yes." Kelly planted the dog in Mark's arms. "She can join you for lunch," she said icily, and turned to leave.

Mark said, "I don't understand. I thought-" "Well, I'm going to explain it for you for the last time," Kelly snapped. "I want you to stop annoying me. Do you understand that?" Mark Harris's face turned a bright red. "Yes. Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I didn't-I didn't mean toI just thought-I don't know what to?I'd like to explain. Would you sit down just for a moment?" Kelly started to say no, then sat, a look of contempt on her face. Yes?

Mark Harris took a deep breath. "I'm really so sorry. I didn't mean to annoy you. I sent you those things to apologize for intruding. All I wanted was a chance to-when I saw your picture, I felt as though I had known you all my life. And then when I saw you in person and you were even more-" He was stammering, mortified. "I?I should have known that someone like you could never be interested in someone like?I-I acted like a stupid schoolboy. I'm so embarrassed. It's just that II didn't know how to tell you how I felt, and? His voice trailed off.

There was a naked vulnerability about him. "I'm just not good at?at explaining my feelings. I've been alone all my life. No one ever?when I was six years old, my parents got a divorce, and there was a custody battle.

Neither one of them wanted me." Kelly was watching him, silent. His words were resonating in her mind, bringing back long-buried memories.

Why didn't you get rid of the kid before she was born?

I tried to. It didn't work.

He went on. "I grew up in half a dozen different foster homes, where nobody cared? These are your uncles. Don't bother them.

"It seems I couldn't do anything right? The dinner is lousy?That dress is the wrong color for you?You haven't finished cleaning the bathrooms?

"They wanted me to quit school to work at a garage, but I-I wanted to be a scientist. They said I was too dumb? Kelly was becoming more and more engrossed in what he was saying.

I want to be a model.

All models are whores?

"I dreamed of going to college, but they said with the kind of work I would be doing, I-I didn't need an education." What the hell do you need to go to school for? With your looks, you could peddle your ass?

"When I got a scholarship to MIT, my foster parents said I would probably flunk out, and should go to work at the garage? College? You'll waste four years of your life?

Listening to this stranger was like hearing a replay of her own life.

Kelly sat there, deeply touched, feeling the same painful emotions as the stranger seated across from her.

"When I finished MIT, I went to work for a branch of Kingsley International Group in Paris. But I was so lonely." There was a long pause. "Somewhere, a long time ago, I read that the greatest thing in life was to find someone to love, who loved you?and I believed it." Kelly sat there, quiet. Mark Harris said awkwardly, "But I never found that person and I was ready to give up. And then that day I saw you? He could not go on.

He stood up, holding Angel in his arms. "I'm so ashamed about all this. I promise never to bother you again. Good-bye." Kelly watched him start to walk away. "Where are you going with my dog?" she called.

Mark Harris turned, confused. "I'm sorry?" "Angel is mine. You gave her to me, didn't you?" Mark stood there, nonplussed. "Yes, but you said-" "I'll make a deal with you, Mr. Harris. I'll keep Angel, but you can have visiting rights." It took him a moment and then his smile lit up the room. "You mean I can-you'll let me-?" Kelly said, "Why don't we discuss it at dinner tonight?" And Kelly had no idea that she had just set herself up as a target for assassination.

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