Beautiful People | wlw

Five: Ass

Vera missed Mr. Wu's bakery.

The hotel room Sharise had booked her wasn't exactly Hollywood luxury. It was fine, but it was sparse and sterile and the only good vegetarian food she could find nearby was falafel. Bustling noise drifted up from the street below, engines revving with impotent anger, an irritable murmur of voices, and later, an off-key echo of alcohol-inspired singing. Thin curtains wafted gently in the warm breeze but did little to keep out the persistent glow of the living city. The smoky breath of it all was just different enough from home to make something twinge under her collarbone.

She stayed up later than she meant to, pillows piled behind her and laptop on her knees. She was running out of scheduled posts and probably should have put together a few--or at least posted an outfit of the day--but she had seen Carmen Juarez' wardrobe and nothing else mattered. Sitting there in the strangely comfortable hotel bed, cars honking outside the window, somehow drove home the bizarre fact that she was in LA, that she had met Carmen fucking Juarez and had been squished against her braless boobs a few hours before.

She had this fizzy, unreal feeling in her stomach, like anything was possible. If a spaceship beamed her up and aliens told her she was the only one who could save the human race from annihilation by designing the perfect androgynous suit for the alien leader she wouldn't even be surprised.

The portfolio she had put together at home based on guesses and fantasy was soon updated to include the reality of what Carmen already owned. She moved the sunset-pink Bhatia dress into a for later folder. After meeting Carmen in person, Vera's desire to see her in that dress had only deepened. It was an occasion dress. A dress for the carpet at Cannes or the Golden Globes. An aspiration, still, for both of them.

When she finally fell asleep, she dreamt of flowing silk and mountains of tulle and Carmen lounging by her pool in a sequined gold bikini.

In the morning, she read the impenetrable NDA over the dry continental breakfast in the hotel lobby. The thing had to weigh at least five pounds. Half a dozen splashes of watery coffee contaminated its pages before she finished. On the last sheet, she signed her name in her slanting, spiky writing. She re-filled her rose gold travel mug a third time before hurrying out to meet the waiting Sharise by the curb.

As soon as she slammed the car door, Vera extracted the signed NDA from her purse and handed it over with a flourish. Sharise didn't smile. Beads rattled gently as she nodded and tucked the papers into her own oversized purse. The orange vegan leather bag  bulged so full that Vera wasn't sure she would have been able to lift it. Sharise hoisted it easily into the back seat.

It was another gauzy day, the sunlight hazy and soft. While Sharise drove, Vera pulled out her phone to check her makeup in the front-facing camera. The lighting was too perfect for her to pass up the selfie opportunity. She took several.

When she put her phone down, Sharise's gaze flickered away.

"If you give me your email, I can send you a copy of Carmen's schedule," Sharise said, in a tone like she was negotiating something. "It might help for you to know what events she's got coming up. Times she'll need to get a little fancy."

Surprised, a smile bowed Vera's lips. That was probably just Sharise's practical nature, but it felt like a peace offering. "Yeah, that'll probably help. Thanks."

"It's a bit of a quiet month." Sharise kept her eyes on the road. "Bad news for you, I guess. There's a morning show appearance, a couple industry parties. You'll only get one red carpet."

"The Teen Taste Awards, right?" Vera pulled out her phone again to look through her calendar. "Never Enough Smiles was nominated for something."