Braless in Wonderland (13 page)

I was wearing Claudette's red bikini (the only one that wasn't a thong) that she'd lent me, high-wedge flip-flops, red lipstick, and a red bandanna for a headband.

Alice was in the house.

“Why are we going here when there are so many other pools we could go to?” I asked Summer. “Pools where we don't have to sneak?” I was scared we were gonna get kicked out of here any second. I'm so not a rule-breaker.

“'Cause other pools don't have
him
,” Summer answered. I followed her gaze to a dark-haired, Mediterranean-looking guy wearing a T-shirt that said
TANNING BUTLER
. It was so tight it was straining over his biceps and chest, about to rip open at the seams any minute.

“What's a tanning butler?” I asked.

“I'll show you,” said Brynn. “Hey, Jason!” she shouted across the pool, waving. She was chewing her gum cow-style, mouth open, saliva sloshing. “Hey! Over here!” Some sunbathers lifted their heads to see who was making all the noise. We were so getting kicked out of here.

Jason strutted over to us, flashing bleached white teeth. He gave a little bow. “Ladies.”

“Hi,” all three of us said, our eyes glued to the muscle dance he had going on under that shirt. He was flexing his pecs. UpDownUpDownUpDown. I had this wild urge to laugh.

Brynn handed Jason her suntan lotion and went, “Allee here needs you to rub lotion on her back.”

What?!
“No, no, no, that's okay,” I babbled to Jason. “You don't have to. I mean, thank you, but I don't need you to do that.”

“Oh, yeah, you do,” Brynn said. She pointed at me with her thumb and said to Jason, “Believe me, this loser needs a friggin' rubdown.”

“Shoot, Brynn, leave her alone,” Summer said. “Allee's only seventeen.” Like she was so much older, at eighteen. Still, I was grateful she was sticking up for me like she always did.

I wanted to get Brynn back. This was what I came up with: “Who are you calling a loser? You're a loser.”
Omigod, I was so lame.

“I know you are but what am I?” said Brynn, mocking my lameness. Jason just stood there. His pecs started doing the hokey-pokey again. And that urge to laugh came back. Brynn felt it too. I could tell.

“Uh, you ladies want me to come back?” he asked. Up, down, up down, flex, flex, flex. I couldn't take it. I clamped my hand over my mouth like a lid and laughed into it. Brynn looked away, but I could see her shoulders shaking with laughter.

Summer just winked up at him and went, “You can go ahead and put that lotion on my back. And 'scuse these two. They weren't raised right.” And then she rolled over onto her stomach and let him do his job. Which was to slather lotion all over her.

Excuse me. She didn't even know this person and his big man hands were rubbing lotion all over her back? I couldn't watch. It was like watching them fool around. Brynn had no problem watching, sloshing her gum around. I half expected her to start eating a bag of popcorn.

I was the only one who was uncomfortable. On the other side of the pool, two women were wearing high-wedge heels, bikini bottoms, big, floppy hats, and chandelier earrings. And no tops. No tops, I swear! And yesterday, I jogged past a shoot on the beach and the model was changing into her bathing suit right there on the sand, just stripped down to nothing with people walking by and everything. In Cape Comet, Hillary High Beams was controversial just for not wearing a bra. But at least she had a shirt on.

After Jason left, Summer said, “I'll tell ya what, he had good hands. Allee, you don't know what you're missin'.” She looked at the copy of
Sense and Sensibility
sitting on top of my bag. “You readin' that for school? Or you jest like it?”

“I just like it.” I didn't tell her I'd read it five times. She was already making that you-are-so-strange-for-liking-to-read-school-books face I knew so well.

Brynn picked up my book and turned it over. “You have a boyfriend back in Rocket Land?” she asked.

Was she trying to have an actual conversation with me? Maybe she was. “I had one last year, but I haven't dated in a while,” I answered. Lance and I were on cross-country together, but he'd broken up with me when the season ended. We didn't have much to talk about, so it was no big heartbreak when it ended.

“What about here?” Brynn asked. “Guys are everywhere.”

I shrugged. “Why date anyone here when I'll be leaving in a few months?”

“So you read all those old romance books and you're about as romantic as a friggin' weather forecast. You don't even have a boyfriend. I don't get you.”

I grabbed my book back. I didn't always get me either, but she didn't need to know that.

I turned away from her and asked Summer, “Did you have to read this for school?”

“I dropped out,” Summer said. She was a high school dropout! I should have known. That's why she wasn't, well, too bright. I'd never known anyone who was a high school dropout. I wasn't sure what to say. I'm sorry? Sucks for you?

So I tried, “How do you feel about that?”

“Best damn day of my life. I went out and had a twenty-dollar party.”

“What the hell's a twenty-dollar party?” Brynn asked.

Summer grinned. “You go to 7-Eleven and get a mess of Slim Jims and Funyuns, kick in a six-pack of beer, and then hit the drive-in.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Brynn said. “I'm hungry.” She spit out her gum with a
ftooie
and lit a cigarette. I couldn't believe they hadn't kicked us out of here yet. This was a fancy place.

Brynn's BlackBerry rang. She answered, “Hi, Ma. How was your party last night? Oh, yeah? Who was there?” Then she got up and drifted away toward the beach, with the phone to her ear. She talked to her mother like a best friend. I wished I had that with my mom. At least I had it with my sister now.

Only about ten minutes had gone by when Brynn hurried back. “I gotta go,” she said, grabbing her bag. “Luca just called. He's picking me up. I gotta go, I gotta go.” And she rushed off.

“I don't know what she's doin' with him,” Summer said.

“I would never let a guy control me like that,” I said.

Summer stared out at the sparkly pool and said, “Depends on the guy. Depends on what he can do for ya.”

“Summer, that is so wrong.” I started to talk to her about feminism and what it means not to give up your power as a strong, independent woman. I tried to put it in terms a high school dropout would understand. I thought she was really interested, the way she was listening and not interrupting.

But then I realized she'd fallen asleep.

Dimitri told me that April the Great, Summer, and me were all on option for Uta Scholes. But I wasn't getting getting my hopes up. My options always got dropped, and the other two got booked on everything. Besides, Summer was sure she'd get it. I wished I was sure of at least one job. A month in Miami and not one. Dad's deadline was in a few days, and if I didn't book anything, he'd make me come home.

I couldn't face it. I couldn't even think about what I'd say to people when I went back to school, how I'd explain that this was all a stupid mistake. Who did I think I was, thinking I could model anyway? The worst of it was, if there was no modeling money, there was no Yale. My life was heading south faster than my bank account.

The agency taped me to see how I appeared on-screen. They wanted to see what I could improve to catch the eye of clients, promising they'd have more commercial castings coming in soon, more for my type. They said it had just been slow in my age range. I did get a callback on a regional Spanish-language commercial for Coke, and was put on option for a German catalog. They needed “teens mit enerchee” but I guess they decided I didn't have enough, because they dropped the option. Summer suggested I wear my ponytail higher next time so I'd look bouncy. I'd try harder to be upbeat next time. If there was a next time.

Because time was running out.

Something had to happen. Soon.

 

I went into the TV office and found Momma at her desk, talking quietly to a man in a chair next to her. He was wearing a wrinkled suit and white gym socks with dress shoes. There was something odd about him. Creepy odd. For one thing, he was doing all the talking. It was like he was talking
at
Momma, not
to
her. I couldn't hear what he was saying over the portable radio playing softly on Kate's desk.

Kate was on the verge of a nuclear meltdown, as usual. She was such a stress mess, she didn't even blink when she talked to you. It was really disturbing. “Allee, I'll tell you what I told your dad. We haven't had much in your age range for TV lately. But this week we're expecting two big ones, a Pepsi national and Cingular wireless.”

I screwed up my courage and asked her, “Yes, but Brynn's shooting a Diesel jeans ad for Latin America today, so why wasn't I—”

“Diesel doesn't usually book girl-next-door types like you. Brynn's much, much sexier than you are, more fashiony. You two sort of have the same look, but you send off different messages on film. You're chalk and cheese in that way, you and Brynn.” I understood what she meant. If the client needed wholesome pie, they saw Summer and me. If they needed the sultry, sexy girl, it was Brynn or Claudette. “Now, we looked at your tape, and Dimitri and Momma decided you shouldn't cut your hair, but you should wear it off your face more, so clients can actually see you. And you need to wear more makeup as well, blush and eyeliner. You look a bit faded on tape.”

Did you know it is very nerve-racking when a person looks dead into your eyes and doesn't blink? “I know, it's just that uh, well, I haven't gotten—”

Beeeeep.
A voice came through the phone: “Kate, you have a client on two.” The man stopped talking to Momma and gave Kate a dirty look, like it was her fault her phone rang. He looked really angry. For a second I thought he was going to yell at her, but he just started talking to Momma again. He was making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Kate pushed a button on her phone and talked into her headset. “Kate here. They confirmed April. Well, you only had second refusal on her—what do you want me to do, love, shoot her out me bum for you? Right, ring me back. Cheers.” She held up the phone, brandishing it like a weapon. “That client better confirm someone soon, or I'm going to beat myself unconscious with this.”
Slam.
“Now where were we?”

I didn't remember. I was distracted. The man was standing up now, grimacing at Momma. Did they have a security guard in this building? I glanced at Kate, thinking she must have realized by now that this man was dangerous, but she just looked at me, waiting for me to talk. “It's just that, uh, I moved here to make money for college and—”

He's reaching around to the back waistband of his pants!

I kept rambling, “Um, um, I was thinking you might have something, anything, just to show my dad that—”

He's pulling out a
—

“OMIGOD!” I screamed. “HE'S GOT A GUN! CALL 911!”

“Allee—”

“CAN'T YOU SEE HE'S HOLDING A GUN TO HER HEAD? CALL 911! CALL 911!” I was at the door already.

“Allee, come back,” Momma said calmly. “It's just part of Bob's monologue.”

Monologue?

The man didn't look that scary or angry anymore. He looked kinda sheepish. He was holding the gun up. “It's a prop,” he said. “A toy, actually.” He opened his mouth, pointed it toward his throat, and pulled the trigger. Water squirted out.

Oh.

I went back and sat down. Just in case I wasn't feeling stupid enough, Kate knocked on my head and said, “Are you daft? Don't you recognize Bob from the Capital One commercial? He says, ‘What's in your wallet' and all that?”

Ooooh, yeeeaaahh,
that's
who he was. I did recognize him now. He played the purse snatcher. “You're a really good actor,” I told him.

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat, put the gun back to Momma's head, and went back into his monologue.

Kate's eyes kept flicking to her computer screen. “What were you were saying, Allee?”

“Just that I'll do whatever it takes to work. I'll do anything and everything, I'll—”

“You see this gun?!” Bob suddenly screamed. “I'll kill you the way you killed my father, you whore!”

“Bob, could you keep it down?” Kate said. “Allee's trying to talk here.”

“Sorry,” Momma answered for Bob. “The conference room was taken. Allee, sweetheart, I'll be right with you. Keep going, Bob.”

I started over with Kate. “I'll learn Spanish. I'll—”

“That's another thing, Allee,” Kate said, butting in. “We're very cross with you about Saturday. Momma normally drops people who miss a booking, but since we had that conference call with your father, we're letting you slide. This time. And were you ever going to tell us that you don't speak Spanish?”

“I told Momma I didn't speak Spanish. What booking? What are you talking about?”

“I will blow your pretty brains out!” Bob yelled.

Kate slapped her hands over her Keira Knightley face. “Allee. Your comp says Allee Rosa with your stats in Spanish and you don't speak a bloody word of it. How do you think that makes us—and you—look? That movie would have been perfect for you.”

Huh? “What movie?”

A vein was popping out on her neck. “You missed a direct booking. Do you understand? Not a casting. A booking. That sodding Argentinian crew that's filming at the Eden Roc. I tried getting you on Saturday, but your BlackBerry voice mail was full.”

“It was my birthday. I stopped answering.”

“Brilliant. Well, you were booked. I e-mailed the director a light box of fifteen models, and you got it. He booked you from your e-comp.”

What? I was blown away by this earth-shattering news. I actually got booked on something! I didn't know anything about this. “It's not my fault,” I said. “I didn't know.”

Kate was pissed. “I called the apartment, but Summer didn't know where you were. That's when she broke the news that you're not bi-flipping-lingual.” She threw her hands up and complained to some invisible person on the ceiling. “It was only a few lines. She could have faked it, right?”

Saturday. I was with Miguel, shopping.
Summer knew!
I'd even invited her to come with us. If Kate had known I was with Miguel, she could have called him on his cell and he would have given me the booking.
Summer deliberately screwed me out of a job.
When she knew I need one so badly.

Kate was waiting for an answer. “Right,” I finally said. “I could have faked a few words in Spanish. And I'll do extra work, anything.”

Beeep.
“Kate, Dimitri on four.”

“What do you want, Zorba? Yes, she's sitting right here. Pardon? Confirmed?” Kate's whole expression was brightening. The crease between her brows was softening. “Hold on one sec. Let me tell her.”

She held the phone against her chest, blinked at me. “You're confirmed. You got it.”

“What?”

“
Dietra
magazine. Uta Scholes just booked you for that big editorial, the Alice in Wonderland thing.” Momma's jowly jaw was smiling. Bob with the gun was smiling. Kate was actually smiling. I was afraid to believe it. “Allee, love, you got it! Come give us a hug!”

I got the job.
I got the
Dietra
job!
I, me, myself, I got it! Feelings of relief and total joy flooded through me. “What about Summer?” I asked, still finding it hard to believe. “She was on option.”

“They dropped her. April got booked too, with you, but you're Alice.”

I beat out everyone, even Summer! Even April! Uta booked me! Finally. Finally! Yes!

Kate was back on the phone. “So give me the info, I'll tell her. Six-thirty weather check, call time is seven at the Raleigh. Clean hair, clean makeup. Bring chicken cutlets, nude stockings, strapless bra. Six-page spread, two full days at one fifty each.” Only three hundred dollars. Editorials didn't pay like catalog because the tear sheets were sort of like your pay.
Allee, reality check: it would take you weeks to make three hundred at Wal-Mart.

Hugs, hugs, hugs from everyone. And shouts of congratulations when I walked past the booking room, even from bookers I didn't know. Miguel rushed over to me and planted a loud kiss on my cheek, jabbering in Spanglish.

And then Momma, in her man-voice, the voice that I now loved, said, “Sweetie, this is going to give you a lot of exposure.”