I wasn’t blessed with an hourglass figure. My ass might as well have been a flat wall. You could hang a picture on it. It was my chest that kept men’s interest. And women admired my face. To be honest, I’m not sure when I figured out the exact angle we were all going for. But it was sometime during those weeks of photo shoots that it hit me. I was being designed to be two opposing things, a complicated image that was hard to dissect but easy to grab on to. I was supposed to be both naive and erotic. It was as if I was too wholesome to understand the unwholesome thoughts you were having about me. It was bullshit, of course. But it was an easy act to put on. Sometimes I think the difference between an actress and a star is that the star feels comfortable being the very thing the world wants her to be. And I felt comfortable appearing both innocent and suggestive. When the pictures got developed, Harry Cameron pulled me into his office. I knew what he wanted to talk about. I knew there was one remaining piece that needed to be put into place. “What about Amelia Dawn? That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” he said. The two of us were sitting in his office, him at his desk, me in the chair. I thought about it. “How about something with the initials EH?” I asked. I wanted to get something as close to the name my mother gave me, Evelyn Herrera, as I could. “Ellen Hennessey?” He shook his head. “No, too stuffy.” I looked at him and sold him the line I'd come up with the night before, as if I’d just thought of it. “What about Evelyn Hugo?” Harry smiled. “Sounds French,” he said. “I like it.” I stood up and shook his hand, my blond hair, which I was still getting used to, framing my sight. I turned the knob to his door, but Harry stopped me. “There’s one more thing,” he said. “OK.” “I read your answers to the interview questions.” He looked at me directly. “Ari is very happy with the changes you've made. He thinks you