Just Like Me (10 page)

The plane landed at another private airport. I quickly exited with Hector and the other guards by my side. I spotted another black car and the body guards steered me toward it. The driver stayed in place as I ducked inside. Hector and the other body guards went to various other vehicles and followed behind us.

We were near a beach in South Carolina. It wasn’t hard to miss; I had been there a lot when I was little. Mom would pack me and her up and we would leave, just for the night, and stay in a cheap motel right on the ocean. My dad would never come. The progression of beach shops lined the streets, every single one of them having the same items as another.

Bright pinks and turquoises and oranges were painted on buildings, people walked around in bathing suits even though it was getting colder.

The hotel we arrived at was huge. It was one of the ones Mom and I would have looked at and envied when we came. Sometimes we would have done that, drove around looking at the fancy motels. We would dream about one day being able just to look inside one of them.

And here we were, it seems we were pulling into the granddaddy of them all. I felt guilty, Mom would have loved this.

They parked right outside the entrance. Apparently someone had already checked me in because body guards were rushing to get me inside and over to an elevator. I felt like the president or something. I spotted Hector.

“You’re in the president’s suite.” He said, dangling the key he had got from the front desk.

“President’s suite?” Well, shoot, maybe I could be president.

“It’s what they call their nicest suites in hotels like this.”

“Oh.” I said, shrugging, as if this was no big deal at all. But I couldn’t help but feel that this “Just Like Me” competition was a load of hockey. If it was “Just Like Me” we would have stayed in North Carolina, eaten at a cheap restaurant and watched a movie. It would’ve been pushing it to go to one of the few shops in the area.

The elevator dinged and we all piled out. I followed Hector down the hallway, only a few doors were in the hallway. He put the card key into the door and opened it for me.

“Myself and the security team will be in the other rooms on the hall. I’ll be in the one closest to you; the others will be staying in the other two on the hall.”

“You mean no one else is staying on this floor but us?”

“This whole floor is designated for important people…celebrities and the celebrities’ guards, staff, and etc.”

I stepped in the room.

“The makeup team should be waiting on you.”

He closed the door behind me. I’m glad he did, because I’m pretty sure the look on my face would have been extremely embarrassing. The whole room was a cream and champagne colored theme. To the left was a hallway that looked like it led to several bedrooms. In front was a living room that connected to a kitchen and study area. Off the living room was another hallway, seeming to lead to another bedroom. The couches were cream with champagne trim. A glass table was in the middle. Elegant lamps were in various corners, a unique looking fan and light fixture on the ceiling. The kitchen was bigger than my dorm room. It had several microwaves, several ovens, a huge fridge, an expensive looking coffee maker that looked gold, two sinks. It was divided by a bar from the study looking room. The living room was right beside the study, divided by a few columns running from floor to ceiling.

I collected myself and remembered that there were supposed to be people in here.

“Hello?”

Several ladies appeared out of the bedroom that was off the living room.

“Hi…umm…ya’ll are doing makeup? Or something?” I sounded like some country hick that had never heard the term ‘makeup’ before this evening.

They all nodded in unison. They were all different races, all beautiful. Three of them. One of Irish looking decent, one of an Asian culture, and one of an African culture. They were stunning, and I couldn’t help but feel that no matter how much makeup they put on me, I still wouldn’t look like them.

“Jerry asked us to have you ready by four.” The Asian one stepped forward. Her black hair straightened down her back and almond eyes wide with unwelcome. “You’ll need to take a shower…” She said, looking me up and down. The other two behind her exchanged a look. Wow. “Then we’ll do your hair, then makeup, then clothes. Sound ok?”

“Yea, I guess.” I dropped my purse in the living room. They all followed it with their eyes to the floor.

“We also will have a matching bag for you.” The Irish girl chirped, red curly hair framing her face. I bit my tongue.

“Ok.” I said. I had to be very patient this evening; I might as well start now. Even though the statement pretty much pissed me off, I supposed I better start getting used to it.

“If it’s ok, use the shower through here.” The Asian waved toward the bedroom off of the living room, implying I really didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“Ok.” I said, shrugging. I passed all of them and paused briefly in the bedroom. It was a gold and white theme. Gold tables, gold bed frame with a white bedspread. Black T.V., gold ceiling fan, white walls with gold frames. I turned back to the girls.

“I’m Kale, by the way.” I said, turning back to face them. I shook all of their hands; they each in turn gave me their names. But I couldn’t for the life of me remember what they were.

They followed me back into the bathroom. If they thought they were going to help me shower, they had another thing coming.

“Soap, razors, different types of shampoos and conditioners are in there. Please use them all.”

“You mean use one shampoo, one conditioner, and the razors and soap right?”

“No, use all of the shampoos and conditioners. Please shave your legs five times, use the special cream in there for it. If we don’t find you did it right, we’ll wax them. Pits too. And your other…places. And scrub good. There’s a towel there to dry off, when you’re done…put on the robe. Come get us and we’ll start the whole process. Don’t take too long.”

I felt like I was in some form of military reform beauty school. They waited for any response from me. I simply nodded as I headed into the bathroom. You’d think I’d never heard of soap before.

I kept my jaw from dropping as I looked around. A huge tub was in one corner with a mini fountain going into it; you had to use steps just to get in. Tiles covered everything, that champagne theme from the living room back in here. The faucets were gold. A huge sink, with gold handles and marble looking. The shower was a glass box. A towel was on a hook by the shower and a robe hanging up. A fire place sat next to the bathtub. There were towel racks and a window by the tub if you wished to look out. It was the type of tub that looked like it had all those fabulous jets in it.

Man, can’t I just take a bath?

“If you want to take a bath, feel free. But if we are to get done, your necessities have to be done in thirty minutes. So…get everything done in thirty minutes. We don’t care how you do it, as long as it’s done right.”

Geez, you’d think I’d never bathed before.

“Great, thanks.” I said nodding at the girls. They closed the door behind me. I wondered if it’d be inappropriate to lock the door.

As much as I wanted to take a bath, I figured I’d have time after the whole date was over. I was a bundle of nerves as I stepped into the shower. I shaved a lot more than necessary. I thought for sure I’d get razor bumps, but the shaving cream they gave me was weird. It worked like a charm. I wondered if they’d notice if I took it home with me. The shampoos were weird too. The first one seemed to take everything out of my hair. Made it hard and tangling. The second one cleaned it good. The third one cleaned it better. The conditioner softened it and made it shine.

I dried off and put the robe on. I stood looking at the mirror, wondering what in the world they’d change my reflection into. Would I even recognize myself after it was over? I took my time looking at the angles of my face. My green eyes, my brown hair. Would they curl my hair? Or keep it straight? Would they make my eyes stand out? Would they try to make my face look thinner, would they get rid of the freckles on my nose? I sighed, running a hand through my hair, and then made my way over to the door.

I peeked my head out, looking around for the girls.

“Um…” I started talking without exactly knowing what to say. “I’m done?” I finally called.

I heard footsteps come from the living room; they all came stampeding into the bathroom with numerous bags.

They brought in a chair (for me I guess) and set it in front of the mirror. The counters went from being bare to being covered in makeup and hair supplies. They began plugging in multiple different appliances that I was sure would burn holes through my hair.

“Ok, would you mind sitting?” The African girl asked. I nodded, sitting in the black chair in front of the huge mirror with lights surrounding the whole frame.

They set to work immediately. Several hair dryers hit my hair, brushes and combs went through, my naturally straight hair becoming visible. After it was dry they set to work with a weird looking curling iron and bobby pins. They made my long hair curl, but not the pretty ringlets you see. It was just a little bit of a wave. They put it part way up and out of my face. Just that little bit made a huge difference, I’d never seen hair styles like that except on the T.V.

They next set to work on makeup. They applied so many different liquids to my face I felt like some sort of soup. Powders, bronzers and eye shadows galore. Layering was their key. There were several kinds of every product that they used.

I had to close my eyes a lot so they could put stuff on right. I kept trying to picture myself after they finished, but I couldn’t get a clear picture. Pictures of either a good extreme or a bad extreme kept coming up in my mind. I felt like I was wearing clown makeup.

When they said they were finished I opened my eyes. I had a hard time at first; I kept looking for myself in the mirror, not seeing me. But then I realized I was the one sitting in the chair.

I looked like one of those Hollywood girls. I was different. Maybe even pretty. I turned my head every way, trying to make a bad angle out of the makeup…but every angle seemed alright. It wasn’t like…ballroom type makeup. It looked like a night out on the town for a celebrity, which I was sure, that was exactly what was going down. It’s not like I was walking the red carpet.

They pulled me out into the gold and white bedroom and I saw that a blue dress was lying out on the bed.

A dress? Oh no. I hate dresses. I don’t wear dresses. I wear jeans. And t-shirts. And sometimes a nice shirt. Or pair of shoes. But a dress?

They allowed me to quickly snap on undergarment necessities, which was very uncomfortable. Little, lacy, frilly things that I’d never worn in my life. I felt my face burn. Why did I have to wear these? It’s not like Taylor Jett would be seeing
this
side of me. But, I guess they didn’t know that.

They slipped the blue dress on and zipped me up. It was then I noticed the heels.

“Heels?” I asked, glancing nervously at the white stiletto looking things. A dress is one thing, heels are another.

“Of course, what else would you wear?”

“I never wear heels; I won’t be able to walk in them.” I protested.

They slipped them on me regardless; I wobbled a little, but finally made it to a mirror.

They put a pearl necklace around me with matching earrings.

“Just in time. It’s almost four o’clock.” One said.

I glanced back and thanked them as genuinely as I could, but I felt my thankfulness came off more like a child faking an apology to a sibling. They didn’t seem to care. They all filed quickly out of the hotel room, quick goodbyes tracing their high-heels.

I stood awkwardly in the hallway, champagne tiles under my heels that made click sounds as I walked. I practiced walking up and down the hallway a couple times, until I got used to the heels. Maybe they’re called ‘heels’ for a reason. The word is really close to ‘hell’. I could already feel the blisters surfacing on my feet; pain awaited me at every step.

I looked over at the blue and white purse they had left, all of my stuff already transferred into it. I glanced at the clock on the wall above the kitchen. It was four o’clock. Was somebody meeting me up here? Was I supposed to walk down to the lobby?
              I was struggling with the question when the doorbell rang. Doorbell…hotel rooms have doorbells? I made my way to the door and took a deep breath.

Mr. Nolan stood there on the other side of the door, on his cell phone. He had a suit on and was glancing at his watch.

“Yea, yea hold on a second.” He said into his phone. He took a second to look me up and down. “They did a good job. No, not you Harry. They did well with Kale. Yea…” He motioned me outside. I quickly snatched my purse and he led me to the elevator. “The guards are already down stairs, they’ll be near you throughout the evening to protect both you and Mr. Jett.” He whispered. As we made our way to the hotel lobby, I went over the things I had in my purse, trying to remember if I forgot anything. Hotel card key, phone, money, pepper spray. I made a conscious decision that if there was some unforeseen event and I had to keep one item…I’d probably choose the pepper spray.

We were out in the hotel lobby, I could see through the glass doors that the limo was waiting outside with a flurry of black guard cars around and behind it. Mr. Nolan led me through the doors and opened the limo door for me. I already saw flashes of cameras as I got in, they blinded me as I stumbled forward. I thanked Mr. Nolan as he slammed the door behind me. I sighed, taking a chance to glance around the interior.

I almost jumped out of my skin as I recognized Taylor Jett sitting not far from where I had just clambered in, observing me with a look of amusement.

“You really are jumpy, aren’t you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, this is kind of our ‘date’ unless you forgot, Ms. Delaney. My presence is somewhat required.”

“Are you going to be calling me that all night? Mr. Jett?”

“I guess I’d better call you Kale, for publicity purposes.”

“Really? I think it’d be better if I jumped out in front of a bus instead. You know. For publicity purposes.”

He tisked with his teeth.

“Well, I can say this will certainly be a fun evening.”

The limo started moving. I paid attention to the actual interior of the limo. Black seats, there was a T.V., a phone, and a fridge. Pretty neat.

“Where are we going?” I asked, when I went to flip on the T.V. his hand caught mine, keeping me from hitting the power button. I gave him a look.

“A place.” He said simply, releasing my hand, casually. I looked at the T.V.

“And I’m not allowed to touch anything in your precious limo? I guess I wouldn’t want to dirty it.”

“Precisely.” He said, leaning back into his seat. He had on dress pants and a button up blue shirt and tie. Oh great, we match. How did I not see that coming?

“Are we going to the movies first?”

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Who said we were going to the movies?”

“I’m sure you couldn’t go an evening without seeing your face on the big screen.”

“Right.” He shook his head in exasperation. “No, we’re not going to the movies first.”

“Then where are we going, exactly?”

“Photos.” He said simply. “Before you ruin your face and attire, we’re going to take pictures for the T.V. show.”

“Great. Maybe I’ll flip the camera off in every shot.”

“No, I’m sure that’s against your contract. But you actually have to pretend like you can stand me.”

“I’ll deserve an award for that performance.”

He started looking out the window, avoiding my gaze. I took in his brown eyes, the way they were somewhat concentrating on the beach shop scenery going by. His dark hair was more fixed tonight. I wondered if they had made him shave his face six times. Maybe they put lipstick on him.

“You’re staring at me.” He observed.

“I was trying to figure out how much mascara you had on.”

“You’re just jealous your lashes aren’t nearly as perfect as mine.”

“Right, that was
exactly
what I was thinking.”

He considered that for a moment.

“You know, you don’t have to act like you hate me.”

“No, I don’t have to act at all.”

“I know you like me.”

“What could I have possibly done to give you that very wrong impression?”

He smirked. An egotistical smirk.

“Coffee shop.” He said simply. I blinked.

“What about a coffee shop?”

“You were getting coffee.” He started the story like it was the best story I would ever hear in my whole entire life. “And I…was behind you.”

I was about to open my mouth and ask if that was the end of his story, because if it was, that was the most pathetic story I’d ever heard in my entire life.

Then it hit me. The other night after I left Lisa and Ben on the bridge, there was a guy in a hoodie that had paid for my coffee. A now familiar hoodie and sunglasses.

“That was you?” I realized.

“Yea.”

“So? You paid for my coffee, that doesn’t mean I’m in love with you.”

His grin got wider.

“Do you remember what name they wrote down for my coffee?”

My mouth opened in surprise. I quickly shut it, trying to rearrange my face in an angry expression.

“That does not mean I like you.”

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Out of all the names in the entire universe, you said Taylor. Taylor. My name.”

“Everyone was talking about the stupid contest; it was the first thing that popped into my head.” I fudged.

“You were thinking about me.”

“I was thinking I was annoyed with you.”

“Nevertheless, you said my name. Which means you had an interest.”

The limo parked finally and I jumped out of my door before the driver could open it. Taylor lazily opened his own door too, stretching and shutting the door behind him, casual. I noticed we were parked at a beach access. So that means we were taking pictures on the beach. I faintly recalled my daydreams from yesterday, cool coffees and wide brimmed hats. I quickly shook the images away. Taylor had walked around to where I was and he was leaning against the limo.

“You’re going to have to act like you can stand me with these pictures. And watch what you say, because they’re also going to be videoing.”

“So I can’t call you a di-“
“No. You can’t.”

I spotted a fleet of vans and cars come around and park in the entrance we were at. Star Gaze was printed alongside a lot of them.

“Now starts when you have to act like you adore me. No funny business.” He muttered. Taylor stood and greeted camera men and equipment holders. He looked to be barking instructions. Guards stood a fair enough distance away so they weren’t in the way. I brushed at the blue dress and looked at the white heels. It wasn’t smart for them to be white. They were going to get dirty on the beach. Heck, how was I going to walk with them on the beach?

Taylor walked back over to me, smiling. His full-on perfect guy routine in place.

“You won’t need your purse on the beach,” He said with a fake smile. He took it, opened a limo door and tossed it inside. “A few guards are staying with the vehicles, anyhow.”

He nodded to the cameramen, some had already started filming. I swallowed.

“Let’s head out onto the beach.” He suggested. He waved at the cameras and linked his arm through mine, smiling sweetly. Barf.

We walked up the steps of the platform that led onto the beach. Some of the cameras had got a head start and were catching us as we walked down onto the beach. Damn heels. Damn. Damn. Damn.

“Ok…Mr. Jett? We’d like to get several by the water. Probably at least 200 stills total.”

I shot a look at Taylor to catch his reaction. He didn’t flinch. I felt my stomach flop.

“That’s fine.”

I wobbled as he steered me closer to the water. If I hadn’t been so paranoid I would have been looking at the water and at the shells. I loved the beach. I didn’t love this, though. The heels sunk into the sand and were making me walk very unsteadily.