Beautiful People - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Sharise picked Vera up from her hotel as the tangerine sun was kissing the horizon. She was wearing a deep purple jumpsuit tied at the curve of her waist, her locs pulled up into a high ponytail with a silver scrunchie. Vera was glad she had decided to change into the white sundress she had hesitated over. Sharise obviously hadn't meant date in the romantic sense, but Vera would have felt silly being underdressed when she was supposed to be so good at style.
Before she could decide whether it was appropriate to compliment Sharise's look, Sharise said, "I made a reservation at my favourite restaurant. I hope you don't mind. They get busy."
"That's awesome," Vera said. "I trust your taste in food."
If it was anyone else she would have asked whether there would be vegetarian options, but she knew practical Sharise wouldn't have forgotten to think about that, especially not after two weeks of buying her lunch. She was more right than she knew. It turned out to be an entirely vegetarian and vegan restaurant.
The server showed them to a table on the tiny patio, and Vera had to remind herself again that this was not a date, just a friendly dinner with a colleague, because despite all the little tables crowded together, this place was swooningly romantic. Huge tropical plants in pastel ceramic pots hemmed the stone patio, wide emerald leaves strung with fairy lights dancing gently on the warm breeze. Under a darkening sky streaked the colours of lavender and persimmons, the atmosphere felt lush and tropical, and Alex really could have taken some fucking lessons because this shoved the zoo several places down on the great-first-date-location list.
As they settled into the small wrought-iron chairs, their knees bumped together under the teeny round table. Trying to distract herself from her sudden desire to just let her bare knee rest comfortably against Sharise's warm thigh, Vera instead moved her legs away, hooking her toes behind the legs of her chair, and said, "Are you vegetarian, too? I didn't realize."
"Not entirely." Sharise picked up the wine menu. "I don't eat much meat but if I restrict too much I risk falling back into bad habits."
"Oh." Vera lifted her own menu to avoid prying further. Model mother and plus-size daughter--she wasn't surprised, just unexpectedly saddened.
Sharise flipped over the laminated sheet. "How do you feel about splitting a bottle of wine?"
Not a date, Vera reminded herself. "Sure, if you don't mind white. Not a big red person."
"Why am I not surprised?"
Vera narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
"No, excuse me." Huffing, Vera prodded at the wine menu with one finger until Sharise's lips twitched at the corners and she set the page down. "You don't get to say something like that and then pretend you didn't say it. What do you mean, you're not surprised? What does preferring white wine have to do with anything?"
Vera didn't know what she expected, but it probably would have been some kind of dry, dark joke. It certainly wasn't for Sharise to say, "Because you're an artist. Red is grounded and heavy. White is light and dreamy and full of possibilities. Like you."
Vera blinked. "I thought I was just a fame-chasing bitch."
A proper smile caught Sharise's lips. "Are you a fame-chasing bitch?"
"That's what you called me."
"We all make mistakes. Some of us less often than others."
Vera still didn't know how to handle this version of Sharise. Before she could come up with an appropriately witty response, the server arrived. Sharise checked with Vera before ordering the wine (white; and Vera hadn't even got an answer as to whether Sharise preferred red), and then she said, "Their sharing plates are the best here. If you're okay with that?"
"Sharise." Vera gestured to her very Chinese self. "Do I look like somebody who's not okay with sharing food?
Sharise let out a small laugh, warm and rippling as a tidepool in the sun. "I didn't want to assume."
They each picked a dish, and then Vera added a third because the hand-made dumplings were too tempting to resist. The server swept away with their menus in hand.
Sharise laid her hands together on the table and looked at Vera with that glint in her eyes. "So, I'm curious. How did you ever end up here?"
"Uh, Carmen got pissed about something I said about her style and I told her I could do better? Oh my God." Laughing, Vera covered her mouth with a hand. "Tell me the truth. When I first arrived, you were totally embarrassed for me, weren't you? Because I was such a fangirl. It was probably so obvious that I had a crush on Carmen."
Sharise's eyes twinkled. "If you thought you were subtle, I'm sorry. You weren't."
"Oh nooo." Vera slumped back in her seat and rolled her eyes to the sky dramatically. "Is that why Carmen doesn't listen to me? Should I give up now? Do you think it would make it worse or better if I told her I definitely don't have a crush on her anymore?"
Sharise caught her smile between her teeth. "You're fine. Carmen says she doesn't love people fawning over her, but she does."
The wine arrived, along with a bucket of ice. The server poured them each a measure, nestled the bottle in the bed of ice, and retreated.
Sharise picked up her glass and swirled the pale liquid within, eyeing it contemplatively. "Was this your dream, then? Being a stylist?" Then, delicate brows drawing together slightly, she added, "I said we wouldn't talk work, didn't I."
"It's okay. I mean, I like this-- Or I would if I could get Carmen to trust that I know what I'm doing, but--" Chuckling sheepishly, Vera said, "I really wanted to be a designer. Have my own show at fashion week. I know, it's crazy."
"I can tell you're very passionate about it."
Vera ran a finger along the rim of her glass, then sucked the cool drops of wine off her skin. Dry, with a crisp fruity aftertaste. She shrugged. "Passion doesn't really matter, though. The industry is so opaque. I thought if I got enough attention with the influencer stuff it might give me a starting point. Then I could at least try for collaborations or something. But I don't know anymore."
Sipping her wine, Sharise watched her, patience in the set of her brows, like she would be happy to sit here and listen to Vera forever. Her brown eyes were just as intense as Carmen's, but where Carmen's gaze made Vera feel like she was in a spotlight, thrilling and anxiety-inducing at the same time, Sharise's tugged at her gently, magnetic, inviting her to share more, to open up and spill her secrets like seed pearls popping off a torn dress.
Vera really hadn't meant to talk about all of this, but between sips of wine, and then delicious bites once the food arrived, she found herself telling Sharise about making her own clothes when she grew out of kid's styles and found women's clothes rarely fit; about design school and the teacher who had wrecked her when he said she was talentless, wasting her time. She told her how watching Ivy walk down the aisle in the wedding dress Vera had designed was still the best moment of her life.
"You designed your sister's wedding dress?" Sharise's eyebrows both shot sky-high.
Tapping her foot excitedly, Vera whipped out her phone to thumb through her photos. "Oh my God. It was gorgeous. She thought about wearing a white dress and changing into a qipao during the banquet, but really she just wanted to wear one dress. Something she could dance in. So this's what I came up with. Kind of a best-of-both-worlds thing."
Sharise accepted the phone from her and studied the photo. Vera pressed her fingertips together, ghosts of buttery silk and prick of needles in the pads. She still knew every inch of that dress a year later: the way the silk faded from white to red in gentle scalloped waves; the delicately structured collar and bodice flowing into an elegantly draped skirt and train.
Quietly, Sharise said, "Vera, this is incredible. I've seen worse go down runways. Your sister is a lucky woman."
The compliment warmed Vera more than it should have. "There's a few more photos if you scroll right. A friend from design school did the embroidery. It took so fucking long but it was worth it. Doesn't she look beautiful?"
Sharise had lingered over another photo. "Did you make your dress, too?"
"Oh, yeah. Ivy wanted me to match."
"You look beautiful."
The way Sharise said that, with a thread of shining intensity, made it feel like more than a friendly observation. Vera's face warmed up as she accepted her phone back.
Night had settled down around them. The solar lamps planted along the fringes of the stones unfurled petals of warm light up across Sharise's dark skin. Vera found herself trying not to stare. She said, "What about you? What's your passion?"
Leaning back in her seat, Sharise crossed her arms over her stomach. "I'm not a passionate person."
Vera laughed. "Okay. Sure."
Sharise arched one eyebrow. "Are you calling me a liar?"
"Yes." Vera plucked the second last dumpling off the plate and gestured with it emphatically. "Everyone's passionate about something."
"Not true. I've met people who were passionate about nothing."
"You aren't one of those people. You care about Carmen even though she's so difficult." She popped the dumpling into her mouth.
"That's different."
"It's not, but okay. You said you were doing something else before Carmen hired you," Vera said around her mouthful. "What was that?"
"It was nothing." Sharise lifted the wine out of the ice bucket, condensation slipping down the swell of its hip. "Another glass?"
Vera swallowed and pointed at Sharise with her chopsticks. "Don't try to distract me. I just told you my whole life story. It's only fair you share something, too."
Sharise tipped up the bottle, dark eyes following the splash of gold into the glass. Slowly, she said, "I was trying to be an actress. It was terrible. I'm a big girl. Dark skinned. There was only ever one role for me. I like working for the girl more than I ever liked acting."
Her tone was so matter-of-fact. "That's kind of sad," Vera said.
"Why?"
"Because it's like you're living for Carmen's dreams instead of your own."
"Not everyone is lucky enough to have a passion they can make a life out of," Sharise said, like it was silly for Vera to suggest otherwise.
"Some of us still haven't made a life out of it," Vera said. "But don't you think it's worth trying?"
"I like helping other people chase their dreams. There's nothing wrong with that. You're doing the same thing for Carmen."
Vera shook her head.
They reached for the last dumpling at the same time, chopsticks clacking together. Sharise withdrew immediately, laid her chopsticks carefully across the top of her plate.
"You can have it. I've already had two."
"There were five," Vera said. "We can split it."
"Oh, no, you don't have to--"
Vera bit the dumpling in half, then offered the second half to Sharise, who didn't look at the food but at Vera.
"Are you really trying to feed me?" she said, her tone dry as desert wind.
"Yes," Vera mumbled with her mouth full, pushing the still gently-steaming dumpling closer to Sharise. "You know you want it. It's too good to say no."
Sharise huffed out a small, sunrise-bright laugh. "Okay. You're feeding me. I guess this is happening."
She leaned forward, and suddenly Vera realized that at some point she had lost track of her knees and their legs were touching again, a hem of warmth between them. A soft breeze set the tropical plants waving, the fairy lights dancing crystals of light through the warm glow of the solar lamps. There was a slight chill in its touch now. Goosebumps lifting on her bare legs, Vera swallowed her mouthful through a dry throat. Around them, low conversations continued on as though no one noticed the way Vera's whole world had shrunk to the press of Sharise's leg electric against hers and the half dumpling that she held with a miraculously steady hand and the bubbling echo of Sharise's beautiful laugh.
Sharise still didn't look at the dumpling, only at Vera, and as her lips closed over the golden dough she did this thing, with her tongue, this very deliberate flick of sweet pink tongue through the apex of Vera's chopsticks and a whole fucking garden of heat bloomed low in Vera's belly because there was no way that wasn't intentional and shit Sharise was flirting with her and this was totally a date and Vera was so, so into it.
And then Sharise leaned back and broke eye contact and with it the spell of her attention but Vera didn't mind too much because she was having a little trouble catching her breath.
Sharise swallowed. She took her last sip of wine and shifted her leg away from Vera's and still she didn't look at her. "We should get the check," she said. There was this rumpled seam in her voice that hadn't been there before, like she regretted what she had just done and wanted Vera to forget it ever happened.
Pulling in a deep, steadying breath, Vera set her chopsticks on her plate and crumpled her napkin. "Yes," she said because this wasn't a date no matter how much she wanted it to be. She only had two weeks to prove herself to Carmen. It didn't matter that Sharise was gorgeous, that Vera wanted more time to get to know her better, that making her laugh had somehow become her favourite challenge. She couldn't let herself be distracted.
Besides, if anything happened between them, and then Carmen sent her home, it would only make this whole thing so much worse.
"The food was amazing," Vera said, trying to smooth over the rough moment.
Sharise raised a hand to catch the server's attention. "You can thank my ex. Ellie introduced me to this place."
That thoroughly quenched the lingering warmth, as it was probably meant to.
When the server set the bill discreetly on the edge of the table, Vera reached for her purse. "How much is it?"
Sharise snagged the clipboard with the little slip of paper and peered at it. "I've got it."
"I don't mind splitting--"
Vera fumbled at her wallet, but Sharise reached across to cover her hand with her own warm palm. Despite the space they had put between them, it was a gentle touch. Vera looked up into those deep, warm eyes, drawn in before she could help herself.
"I know for a fact that Carmen isn't paying you enough for how hard you're working," Sharise said, her voice caramel-thick. "Let me get this."
"Okay," Vera agreed, because what else was she going to do when Sharise was looking at her like that? "Thank you."
They didn't talk much on the drive back to the hotel. Vera's full belly was making her sleepy, and she didn't mind the quiet. It felt easy, despite that folded moment in the restaurant. Sharise was a comforting presence beside her, her firm hands on the steering wheel an assurance of safety. Vera watched angular pools of light slip by on the pavement and thought she wouldn't mind if this moment never ended.
When they were less than a block away from the hotel, Sharise's phone went off. The bluetooth connection on the screen in the dash showed it was Carmen.
"So much for our night off." Sharise prodded the screen. "Hi, Carmen. How's--"
"That fucking asshole," Carmen said, her voice spiky and hot. "He lied to me. He told me he wasn't interested in dating right now. He's such a fucking-- I can't believe he did this to me."
Vera and Sharise glanced at each other.
"Is it safe to assume you're talking about Troy?" Sharise asked calmly, braking to a stop at a red light and flicking on her left turn signal.
"He didn't even have the fucking balls to tell me. He just posted it for the whole fucking world to see." Carmen was huffing out shaky breaths, like she was crying, and Vera had this terrible sensation in the pit of her stomach. "He knew tomorrow is my big day, like a fucking idiot I told him that, so of course he had to do it tonight, of all fucking nights. He's trying to fucking sabotage me."
"Carmen, I don't know what you're talking about," Sharise said, and though her tone was still calm Vera could hear the gentleness in it. "What did he do?"
"Troy is dating Marina fucking Taylor," Carmen wailed. "They just went internet official. I want to fucking die."