Beautiful People - Chapter 18: Chapter 18

"And this is the room that's available." The young woman hooked a thumb through the strap of her overalls as Vera peered into the tiny space. Scuffed floorboards, a small window high on the wall, barely enough space for the bed. No room to sew, no room to record videos. Terrible lighting. Somehow, still better than any of the other apartments she had seen. At least it had a decent-sized closet.
"How much did you say the rent was again?"
The woman told her, and she winced. She could practically hear her barely-more-than-empty bank account mocking her.
"Uh, I'll get back to you."
Shrugging, the woman lit a joint.
Waiting on the curb for her carshare to show, Vera tapped her wobbly heel against the pavement and thumbed through her notifications, too depressed to look at more apartment listings. Her follower count had flatlined, the traffic still being driven by the Red Carpet Situation now  countered by just as many unfollows as people began to realize she wasn't all that interesting after all. Her mentions were dotted with grumbling from her older fans. She frowned at one that particularly stung, from someone who used to be one of her most reliable commenters: you were better when you were calling celebrities out instead of kissing their asses.
She missed making original content, too, but she'd been so focused on Carmen she hadn't managed much more than a few outfit-of-the-day posts in weeks. Maybe she needed an assistant to help her manage it all, but how could she afford to hire someone when she couldn't even afford an apartment? First, more jobs. Then replacing these cheap cherry-red heels that Ellie had sneered at. Then she could think about an assistant.
An email caught her attention. Following up on our request for an interview -
"Oh, shit."
She had never finished her answers to the interview questions from the magazine. That unfair question about how she was going to top Carmen's Teen Taste look had stumped her, and then the Ellie situation had knocked it completely out of her mind. And now she'd missed her chance.
We went ahead and ran a different story, said the email. Thank you anyway.
Vera glared at her phone. That promotion could have been huge for her visibility. They didn't even send a reminder before dropping her. "Fuck you too," she muttered, and closed her email without opening the note from Ivy, subject: Bali Photos and Toffee's Ear Infection Update. She definitely wasn't in the mood for a guilt-trip over not being able to dogsit.
Nudging her earphones in, she pulled up a recent interview with Marina. Thanks to her long history of unapologetic fandom, she'd gone into the Carmen job knowing a lot about her client, but before she'd dug into Marina's style history, she'd only known the actress from gossip related to her friendship with Carmen. She worried she might accidentally reveal her ignorance and risk the wrath of celebrity ego. And so she found herself watching this slightly cringe comedy show on which Marina had been a guest the week before, hoping she could learn something.
The carshare finally arrived. Wrenching the rusty door open, she slumped into the back seat with barely a glance up as she tapped through to an interview Marina had given a few months ago about the period products charity.
"We're changing the lives of these teenagers," Marina said earnestly to the interviewer, who was doing a heroic job of keeping a straight face.
Her phone buzzed with a call from Sharise, which was honestly a relief. She was really starting to get tired of hearing people talk so much about menstruation.
"How did it go at the apartment?" Sharise's voice had that distant, tinny note that meant she was on bluetooth in the car.
With a dramatic sigh, Vera sank lower in the sticky leather seat. "Not great. The ad said there were two roommates, but I counted the toothbrushes and I think they've both got live-in partners. And I'm pretty sure the room was actually a closet."
"I was hoping you'd say this was the one. Carmen just told me she wants you out of the hotel by the end of the month."
"End of the-- That's next week." A scowl knotting her brow, Vera tugged at her earlobe. "I haven't seen a livable apartment yet. I mean, I could take this one, but it's not ideal."
"I know." Sharise hesitated. "If you need to, you could move in temporarily."
Vera tried to swallow her sudden excitement. "Temporarily?"
"Until you're in a more stable position, I would be okay to have you live with me."
A huge smile broke across her face. "Really? Are you sure? I would honestly love that."
"As roommates," Sharise added sternly. "I'd want you to take the other bedroom. I really appreciate your help with Ellie. It meant a lot to me. But I haven't changed my mind about taking this slow. I'm not ready to move in officially."
"Absolutely. No problem. I'll need that whole closet anyway." Vera chuckled. "You're seriously the best, babe."
Sharise let out a small laugh in return. "Babe? Really?"
Lips still caught in a silly grin, Vera leaned her head against the window and watched the hazy horizon. Talking to Sharise always turned her bad mood into a good one as easily as flipping a piece of fabric over from the wrong side to the right. "No babe? Was sweetheart better?"
"I'm not some trophy wife barefoot in the kitchen."
Vera could picture Sharise flashing a hint of very white teeth along with that dust-dry tone, but wife unsettled something in her stomach. She couldn't help thinking about Ellie smirking at her, Ellie saying Sharise had at one point agreed to marry her.
"Okay," she said, closing her eyes and thinking about holding Sharise so close their hearts beat in each other's throats. "No sweetheart and no babe. I'll find something you like eventually."
"I can't wait," Sharise said, this low note in her voice that made Vera go a little warm.
She reminded herself that it didn't matter that Ellie had a perfect face, and a drool-worthy body, and an international profile whose shadow Vera would kill to touch. Ellie was in the past. Vera was the one that Sharise was inviting to move in.
The driver dropped her off outside Bea's studio. Gathering her purse close, she hurried inside the high-ceilinged space with exposed brick walls hinting at its origins as an alley between two buildings. Dusty skylights lit the narrow room where Bea met clients, and where she did her writing, away from her partner and dogs. Enormous photos of Bea's clients lined the walls; Marina Taylor in a classic black ball gown with sweetheart neckline and white gloves was the most striking.
"You're early," Bea said, leaning back in her computer chair. "Feeling eager?"
"This is my one chance to prove myself to Marina fucking Taylor," Vera said. "I'm not gonna fuck this up."
"I saw your portfolio. You're gonna be just fine." Bea smiled and pointed at two wheeled racks flowing with a dozen designer dresses. "The last of the dresses arrived last night."
"Oh, thank God. I was getting worried."
Nerves rippling to life in her chest, Vera shed her purse onto a hook, then began liberating the luxurious gowns from their protective layers of plastic and cloth. White silk, peach tulle, hand-embroidered roses. She was styling Marina for a gig as a presenter at an actor's guild event. If she could nail this look, it would cement her position with Marina, and impressing Marina could mean referrals and even more clients. Carmen might have come to love her work, but Marina had more friends in the industry because, unlike Carmen, she was willing to shut up and play by the rules.
Peeling the cover off the last gown, her stomach sank. "Oh, no." She touched the flimsy folds of a chiffon dress the color of fresh cream with accents like sun-ripened strawberries. "They sent the wrong dress. I wanted the one with the high neck and billowy sleeves."
Leaning back in her computer chair, Bea massaged her round belly through her loose floral dress. "That happens sometimes. It might've already gone out to someone else. That's why it's important to build a relationship with these folks. You need first pick of the clothes if you want to create the best looks, especially for the bigger events when everyone's scrambling for a headline-grabber. I'm surprised they didn't warn you, though."
"Fuck." Vera scrubbed her hands down her face. This gown was simple and elegant, but it wasn't as interesting as the one she'd really wanted. She'd organized the loan from the designer herself after Bea put her in touch with them. Sending her the wrong dress felt like a slap in the face. Everything in this city was always a fucking test - of her talent, of her confidence, of her willingness to put up with celebrity egos and people who didn't give a shit about you unless your friends were famous. "Nothing I can do about it now."
Biting her lip, she moved over to the reclaimed-wood desk and double-checked all the borrowed jewelry sets she had chosen for their combination of glam aesthetic and sustainable sourcing, a quality Marina had insisted on. Then she rearranged the shoes. Everything else was exactly as she wanted, but the incorrect dress bothered her as much as a hem sewn crooked.
The door creaked. Vera's head snapped up, a big smile springing onto her lips to hide that her nerves were suddenly clacking like a roomful of sewing machines.
Half a dozen people washed inside, pouring laughter and chatter into the tiny studio. They orbited around the blonde who sauntered in like she owned the world. Bea gave her a hug.
"Have they been kicking a lot?" Marina Taylor asked in a voice as gentle as her smile, pulling back to lay a palm against Bea's pregnant belly.
It took Vera a moment to compose herself. Marina was Carmen's opposite in almost every way. She was petite, her lips a pert pink bow, a tumble of honey-colored curls framing a heart-shaped face and huge blue eyes inherited from her grandmother, who had been a famous silent film actress. In ragged-hemmed mom jeans and a baggy cropped tee, she was beautiful, but not breathtaking the way Sharise and Carmen were. Or maybe Vera was just starting to be jaded about all this manufactured Hollywood beauty.
When Marina caught sight of her, a warm smile dimpled both cheeks. "Vera! I'm so happy to finally meet you in person."
They shook hands, much more formal than the hug Carmen had first greeted her with. Vera drew herself up to her full height, pleased to find Marina was only slightly taller than her. "I'm really excited to work with you," she said, even more pleased to realize that her nerves were already quieting. Meeting celebrities seemed to get easier with time, at least ones she hadn't spent years fangirling over.
"You're not gonna be disappointed, Nia," Bea said, settling back into her computer chair with a slight groan.
Eyes twinkling, Marina clapped her hands together. "After seeing what Vera's done for Carmen, I have no doubt I'll be blown away. Are you here to supervise, Bea?"
"Just to watch the next generation of talent at work." She winked at Vera. "And help if necessary, but I don't think it will be."
"Why don't we get started then," Vera said, very glad for the looseness of her silky striped shirt because maybe she wasn't quite as calm as she wanted to think she was. It wasn't just the warm summer air making her sweat. Who knew living up to the standards she had set herself could be so intimidating.
She pulled out her portfolio, and they settled into a pair of worn leather chairs. One of the women in Marina's entourage hovered over her shoulder, listening, while the others found places to sit against the walls and put their noses in their phones.
Vera cleared her throat. "So, your style now is very classic feminine." She turned the portfolio so Marina could see a collage of photos of herself. "A-line dresses, cinched waists, soft pastels. The same on every carpet."
Pert lips bent in a small, thoughtful frown, Marina leaned in.
"What is it that you like about that look? I can see the patterns, but what are you thinking about when you choose these dresses?"
With a laugh like calm waves against white sand, Marina twisted a lock of hair through her fingers. "My mom started putting me in the little girl version of those dresses when I was doing press for my breakout film, Our Family Tragedy. Tutus and satin bows. I remember being so jealous of Carmen's stylish looks while I was in those frumpy things. But as I got older, the girliness grew on me. My grandma is sort of my style icon. These looks--" she tapped the page "--are like the modern version of her Old Hollywood glam. I like feeling ultra-femme. I'd still wear bows if I thought a grown-ass woman could get away with it."
Vera snorted. "Girl, if you want bows, we can do bows. It's all about styling them right." She clicked her rhinestone-encrusted pen and made a note in her notebook. "What are your thoughts on trying some bolder colors? Patterns? More adventurous silhouettes?" She turned the page over. "Something like this?"
"Oh." Marina let out an uncertain laugh. "That is bold. I don't know."
"We won't do anything you're not comfortable with," Vera assured her.
"I am not freebleeding to make a point, sorry." Marina scrunched up her nose. "How Carmen managed to pull that off..."
"It wouldn't have the same impact a second time," Vera said, just a tiny bit relieved that sort of statement wasn't what Marina was looking for. "But your past style choices have been very... safe. I just want you to consider taking a few risks. We don't have to abandon ultra-feminine. What about this one?"
As they flipped through the portfolio, Marina's eyebrows drew together, then smoothed, then rose above eyes widened in excitement.
"Okay, I never would've chosen something like that," she said, peering at a picture of a peacock-blue dress with a buttoned-up collar and a drop waist, "and even Bea would never have suggested it. But it's cute. I actually think I might like it?"
"Then why don't we try it on?"
Surprised, Marina laughed. "You were so confident I'd like it that you have it here today?"
"I've got a bunch of options, including several in your usual range," Vera admitted. "But I wanted to give you some different choices. I know we both want you to shine tomorrow."
"I like you already, Vera. Let's see the dresses, then."
After Carmen's stubbornness, Marina's agreeability felt like a gift.
So Vera wheeled out the racks, and Marina slipped behind a velvet curtain that sectioned off the back of the room and its mirrored wall into a private space for changing. Her assistant hovered nearby, chattering into her phone about schedules and PR.
As Vera buttoned up the blue dress for her in the privacy of the change room, Marina said, "I have to admit I'm curious how Carmen feels about this situation. With the way she's been acting lately, I would've expected her to be jealous that her style wizard is gonna be working her magic on me, too."
Biting her lip, Vera lifted long blonde curls, and Marina reached over her shoulder to hold them out of the way.
This was a sticky moment. She didn't know yet if she could trust Marina, but she couldn't risk this getting back to Carmen before she was ready. She wiped beads of sweat from her brow. Lowering her voice because the assistant was right outside the curtain, she said, "I actually haven't found the right time to tell Carmen yet. I'd appreciate it if you could kinda avoid mentioning it for now, too."
In the mirror, Marina's smile wilted. "So she's still committing to this feud, huh?"
"Well..." Vera didn't know how to answer. Marina's pinched look of hurt was not at all what she had expected. In fact, from everything Carmen had said, she'd expected Marina to be a stone-cold bitch. Instead, she had found this friendly, disarmingly sincere woman. It was kind of throwing her off.
Marina let out a heavy sigh. "You don't wanna gossip about your clients, I understand. Very professional."
"I guess I'm taking lessons from Sharise."
"Sharise is a saint for sticking with Carmen for so long."
She needed to stop forgetting that these people all knew each other. As nice as she might seem, Marina was still friends with Ellie. She couldn't let her guard down.
Marina shifted her arm so Vera could adjust her skirt. "If I'd known she'd be so mad about this whole Troy thing, I wouldn't've let him be so public about it. I mean, I tried to get him to tone it down, but you know men when they're in love." She rolled her eyes fondly. "She's straight-up ghosted me, though. And she knew how much that charity means to me, so I know she was really trying to hurt me."
Vera bit her lip on the urge to own up to her part in that.
"I guess I should just take the hint and let her go," Marina sighed, shaking her head.
With a final tug to the collar, Vera forced herself to stop fussing and stepped back. "What do you think?"
Giving the full skirt a little swish, Marina smiled widely. She spun around to study the long row of tiny, cloth-covered buttons up the back. "This is really beautiful, Vera. And shockingly comfortable. Like I probably don't even need Spanx with this thing, which means for once I could eat those fabulous appetizers they serve. Now I need to see what else you've got. I wanna try them all on."
A stupid grin caught Vera's lips. "Of course. We need to be sure you're making the best choice. Do you want to show this one to your entourage first?"
"They'll be unhappy with me if I don't."
She went out and did a few twirls. Her entourage went ooh and yas, queen! Bea smiled benevolently, and Vera couldn't stop grinning. The dress looked as fabulous as she'd hoped.
They stepped back behind the velvet curtain, and Vera yanked it closed.
Twisting her curls up against her head, Marina frowned at herself in the mirror as though she no longer liked what she saw. "Do you like working with Carmen?"
Vera considered that, watching her fingers as she unlooped one tiny blue button, then another. Carmen was stubborn, and narcissistic, and she could be a bitch sometimes. But, "Yeah, I do. It's never boring."
"No one could ever be bored with Carmen."
The blue dress slipped down around her waist, and she stepped out of it. Vera lifted the next dress off the hanger, the strawberries and cream chiffon.
"Maybe this is stupid, but I kinda miss her," Marina said, softly, in a tone like she was confessing something embarrassing. "She's always been jealous of her friends, but this is a whole other level of petty. I didn't mean to hurt her. And I mean, Carmen made it very clear that she's straight. It's not fair for her to be jealous when she's the one who rejected me, you know?"
Vera gasped.