The Girl in Blue Velvet Who Fell From the Stars

Excerpt 1 ...The loud thump, closer to a crash, shook his bed and rattled the dozen spaceship models on the upper shelf of his bookcase opposite his bed. His body jerked awake. His gasp slurred through lips dry from a night's sleep. "What the—" ... Silence. Ben groaned. He must have been dreaming. He peered drowsily at his wrist watch. It was 5 a.m. He yawned drowsily, pulled the covers tighter about him and went back to sleep, missing the bright colors seeping from behind the perimeter of the drawn curtains....

Excerpt 2: ...It wasn't the figure itself that made him pause, turn and look, but the feeling that the figure was watching him. At this distance, he couldn't tell if it was male or female. He honestly was too tired to bother finding out. About to turn back toward his apartment, he noticed the figure beginning to move towards him. A paranoid thought ran through his mind. Was he about to be mugged? But that thought gave way to curiosity as the figure drew closer and he saw that it was a young woman in a gray t-shirt and jeans.
By the time she stood at arms length, he couldn't take his eyes off her face. Her eyes were dark blue and her long hair tied in a pony tail was honey ash blonde. She greeted him with the quaintest smile and a suave "hello."
The words escaped his mouth before he could reflect. "You wouldn't perchance have done modeling?" Ben asked. Oh my God, he thought grimacing. That sounded like a pick-up line, or worse, a predator's pick up line."
The girl raised her chin and met his gaze head on. "Yeah, I might have," she replied lazily, a playful tease in her voice.
Ben thought suspiciously. Maybe she was the predator.
"Do I know you?" he asked.
"No, not likely."
Ben asked, "What's your name?"
The girl tilted her head, her expression saying, let me think. "Oh, of course. My name is Jessica — Jessica Simmons. At least that's as near a translation as I can give you."
Ben peered closer at her. Her features and her accent were American, though not Montanan, more northeast coast. New York. He had attended college in upstate New York on a scholarship.
"Where are you from?" he asked.
"Oh, it's pretty far up. You wouldn't know the place."
"Northeast?" he pressed.
Again she thought before answering. She glanced upward. "Yeah, Northeast. Definitely Northeast."
She wasn't very forthcoming, Ben thought. But why should she be, he reasoned. It was clear to him now that they had never met before.
He had to ask, "Was there something you wanted from me?" After all, she had approached him.
"No," she replied. "You asked me — if I'd done modeling."
"Yes, but..." Ben ran a nervous hand through his hair.
She remarked, "It's brown, dark, rich, like the soil here."
"Yeah," he laughed. He'd never heard his hair described that way.
"Listen," he said. "I'm sincere about the modeling. I have my card here." He dug into the inside pocket of his blazer. "I work for a top notch fashion magazine. The name is on the card. Certainly if I was in your place, I wouldn't trust a stranger. Take the time to investigate. The magazine has been around for years, and is well known in fashion circles."
The girl examined the card, front and back. She sniffed it. "Paper, nice, shiny."
Ben swallowed. He hoped she was not an escapee from a mental institution. Or perhaps, he allowed, she was simple-minded. In either case, he must be crazy to be having this conversation with her. But the girl fit his sketch, even without makeup. And after viewing hundreds of photos of beautiful women, none of them had come anywhere close to fitting his sketch like this girl.
"Jessica, my boss' name is Lester Edwards. You can verify everything I've told you before you come to the office, as well you should."
She smiled at him, warmly. "I'll be there," she promised, her voice earnest. "You go and rest now. You look exhausted."
Ben watched, befuddled, as she turned and retraced her steps, and disappeared around a bend in the parking lot....