A couple of months had past since she had met Christine, the model agent. Every now and then, usually while helping a difficult customer, she’d think about Christine and her offer. She would quickly dismiss the idea, believing that she couldn’t be a model. She felt that she just didn’t have the cojones; or at least that’s what she thought. She had been pulling as many hours as she could to save money up for a car and pay D and Lara back; even though they told her to not worry about it. It was starting to show on her physically.
It was a Tuesday afternoon and it was first time in weeks. She was sitting on the couch, in her t-shirt and fuzzy purple pajama bottom, watching TV with D and Lara. Some action movie was on; nobody was really paying attention to it. Lara was reading a book, D was reading a newspaper, and she was dozing off and on.
“Have you talked to him?” D nonchalantly asked, with his eyes still on the paper.
“Hmm?” She sat up a little straighter and tried to open her eyes wider.
He folded the paper over to look at her. “Have you talked to him lately?”
She shook her head. “Not since I started my job.”
D smirked and went back to reading. “Good to know he cares so much.”
“He’s busy touring, probably tired.” She yawned and stretched.
“Right.” That single word dripped with sarcasm. “Why do you defend him? He hasn’t done anything for you.”
She rolled her eyes; there was no way she was going to deal with this right now. “Well, he can’t defend himself.” She stood up and started for the guest room where she was staying.
“Oh yeah, that’s right, because all the chivalry he has should speak on behalf of him. How silly of me to forget.” He called after her.
Lara looked up from her book. “Leave it alone. You’ll damage your friendship instead of help.”
He sighed and went back to the paper.
She sat on her bed and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She looked at her phone and stared at it for a moment. She got up and grabbed her purse from the back of the door. She went through it for a bit before finding what she needed. If she had butterflies in her stomach, she had a whole hoard of them in there. She grabbed her phone and punched in the number. It took a few rings for someone to pick up.
“Hi, my name is Scarlette Méndez, is Christine Loren available? Oh, tell her it’s the worker from Saks Fifth Ave. Thank you.” She tapped her nails against her hip as she waited on hold. “Hi Christine. Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. Oh… Yes. Tomorrow?... At 10 am?... Okay, yeah, sure. Thank you. See you tomorrow then.” She hung up the phone and stood in shock for a bit, staring at the wall. That was easy, way too easy. She shook her head hard. “Crap…” She turned around to the closet and began to dig up something to wear. Wait, what did one wear to a photo shoot? It was just for head shots.
After forty minutes of putting together outfits on her bed and hating all of them. “Lara, can you come here please?” She whined and sighed heavily. There was no way she could go shopping now. She had a dark blue cashmere sweater in her hands, slightly waving it against her legs.
Lara popped her head in. “Yeah?” Then raised an eyebrow at the sight of clothes strewn everywhere. “What in the… Did a clothes bomb explode in here?” She carefully stepped in the room, trying not to step on clothes or a shoe. “I hope you didn’t call me in here to help you pick this up?” She shook her head and looked at Scarlette.
She wiggled her knees. “I have a photo shoot tomorrow morning…” She groaned.
“YOU HAVE A WHAT?!” Lara practically screamed at the top of her lungs. “Oh my god. Oh my GOD! This is major!”
D called from somewhere in the apartment. “WHO HAS MAJOR WHAT?!?” Sounding slightly alarmed.
“Shut up, nothing!” Lara yelled back and thought for a moment. “Let’s see, um what about jeans and a simple t-shirt?”
She gave her a “You’re kidding right?” look.
Lara picked up a pair of dark blue, almost black pair of skinny jeans. “These and…” She scanned the room. “This!” She picked up a red t-shirt that had seen better days.
“Those jeans with that?” She slightly curled her lip.
Lara looked at the shirt. “You’re right. Too much ‘I rolled in a street gutter’.” Then a light bulb went over her head. “I got it!” She had enough excitement in her voice for the entire apartment building. She out of the room and came back after a couple of minutes. “This…” She placed the jeans on the bed and the top. It was a sheer silk top with ruffles the graced the capped shoulders down to the deep v-neck and flowed diagonally to the left hip. The color was fun, but not too loud. From the top, it faded from a dark blue to royal purple to teal. “Of course, wear this under the top and…” She tossed a black camisole with the top ruched on the bed. She bent over and picked up a heel. “Your gold strappy Diane von Furstenberg pumps.” She smiled as she let the pump hang off her left index finger.
“Okay, for one I can’t wear that top. D got it for you on your birthday and its way too expensive. Two, don’t you think it’s too much cleavage? And three, those shoes have never been worn.”
Lara waved her off. “I don’t mind, obviously; plus, I doubt I’ll go anywhere nice where I can wear it.” She said the last part a little loud so D could hear her. “It’s probably not enough cleavage Miss thirty-four D and what a perfect time to break these heel in.” She grinned. “Besides, I think it says enough like ‘I have great taste, can look comfortable, and be unattainable to many.’ Oh and I can’t forget to mention that these jeans make your ass look good!”
“Oh god.” But she nodded. “You’re right.” She sighed. “I guess I should have called you in here from the beginning.” She shrugged and then smiled at Lara. “Thanks.” She started to re-hang everything.
Lara smiled. “Psh, it was nothing. I don’t read all those magazines for nothing.” She started to help pick up some of the clothes on the floor. “Just don’t forget about us when you make it big.” She playfully hit Scarlette on the shoulder.
She stopped mid-hang. “I won’t.” She smiled. “You guys have done so much for me, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you guys.” She voice slightly cracked.
“Oh geez.” Lara put down the dress she was hanging and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry about it. We’re always here for you now matter what. No payments expected.”
“Oh god. Don’t tell me you’re pregnant Scar.” D’s voice startled them both.
They turned and looked at him. Scarlette got her flip flop off her foot and threw it for his head, but hit the door instead. “Shut the hell up. No one is pregnant. God, why do guys act like that’s the worst thing?”
“Oh my god, did he give you something? Is it the clap?!”
They both looked lamely at him.
Lara rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You cannot be serious.”
“Well what is it? All I here is ‘you have what’ and ‘this is major’; what in the hell am I suppose to think?” D threw his hands up in the air.
Lara rolled her eyes again. “She has a photo shoot tomorrow. She called that woman.”
“Oh shit!” D walked over to Scarlette and gave her a bear hug, lifting her from the ground. “Congratulations!” He put her back down.
She playfully smacked his arm, laughing, she rubbed her ribs. “Thanks, but it’s nothing major. It’s just to do head shots and whatever. I guess she anticipated my call.” She shrugged.
“Still! This is big, who knows what this could bring you.” The excitement for her lit up D’s face.
Just then her phone started to ring, causing everyone to look at her phone which laid on the bed. Everyone lost their smile as the ringtone played. It’s was AC/DC’s “Hells Bells”,
“Shit.” Scarlette hung her head. “I guess I better take this. Thanks again Lara.” She picked up the phone and smiled at Lara and D.
“No problem.” Lara rubbed her shoulder. “Let’s go get dinner after.” She smiled and walked out of the room with D following closely behind.
She sighed, nodding, then answered the phone. “Hello? Hey. Yeah, I’m fine but I do have something to tell you… Yeah. We need to talk.”
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