“Think of it as a welcoming gift. Your first summer in L.A is something to celebrate.” He laid the box across my lap before he perched himself on the corner of the table. “Tell me if you like it.”
Well, I supposed it would be totally rude of me not to take the package now. I lifted the bright white lid on the box and found three T-shirts nestled in shiny silver and copper tissue paper, colors I was beginning to realize were everywhere around the building. I pulled the tissue further back, revealing a black, a red, and a white T-shirt, all with the metallic graphic designs already becoming familiar as Rico’s.
“These are a few of my test pieces.”
I looked up at him in surprise, my mouth hanging open. Test pieces?
“Don’t look so shocked. I have others, but I thought you’d like these. Wear them in good health.”
I was more than shocked as I looked at the shirts again. Rico really wanted me to be ‘the Face,’ didn’t he?
“So what all does the being ‘the Face’ entail?” I asked as I carefully put the lid back on top of the box.
He smiled, evidently pleased I’d asked a question and stopped saying no. “A small photo shoot, and you’d be seen in my designs when you and your friends go out.” He shrugged. “Nothing too much, really.”
I tapped my nails against the side of box. It didn't sound that complicated, did it? Still...
This was definitely something I’d need parental input on.
“Thank you, Rico, for everything. I’ll talk to my dad as soon as he’s back in town,” I promised.
He took the box so I could get up. “Give me a call either way, but I hope he’ll agree. You’re the perfect choice for the line and the new store, Chey.”
I headed back to where I’d parked the car, stopping in my tracks at what I saw. JT leaned against the driver’s door, blocking my way of any quick escape. I kinda wished for a can of pepper spray to chase him away.
“You’re everywhere, aren’t you?”
I peered at JT as I neared. The guy was hot. The downside—he knew it, and he tried to use it to his advantage.
“Sounds like you did pretty good in there,” he said, nodding towards the building.
I shifted the box against my hip. “How would you know?”
“I was in there visiting my cousins.” He stared at me, and I must have looked as confused as I felt. “Rico’s wife is my cousin?”
“Oh…” There were more family connections in this town than I could keep straight.
“So, like I said, I heard good things about you in there. Face of Vanetti…that’s huge. Lotta girls are going to be pissed to lose it out to you…”
“I haven’t agreed yet,” I said quickly.
He looked perplexed, something I hadn’t expected from him. “Why not?”
“Let’s see, first off, there’s Sorche,” I started, about to tell him all about her modeling ambitions.
“Piece of advice, Daniels,” he cut me off. “Don’t live your life for your friends.” He played with the key ring in his hand. “Do what’s best for you.”
I stared in awed silence, the box beginning to slip out of my grasp. He reached out and effortlessly took it, setting it inside the convertible. He’d rendered me totally speechless. I don’t think that had ever happened before, at least in California.
I had to admit he was right, though. The chances were pretty good that I’d leave after this summer, maybe come back to go to UCLA, but realistically, I’d never see Sorche again. Or at least, she’d never want to be seen with me. What was the expiration date on our friendship, anyway?
“It’s a great op, and you’ll kick yourself later if you turn it down. Plus—” he finally pulled away from my car, brushing close enough that I caught a strong whiff of his citrus cologne. “Chey?”
I barely had my finger on the unlock button. “Yeah?”
“You’re perfect for it.”
He didn’t elaborate.
I’d had enough advice for one day. Seriously.
Life in L.A. was starting to get complicated.
Way too complicated.
I watched him walk back towards the building as I started the car. Checking my texts, I saw I was supposed to pick up Sorche in half an hour, but right now, I kinda wanted some time to myself, to process and all that. I texted a quick reply that I was running late before I headed out.
I grew tempted to go by Pink’s and pick up an order of fries and a milkshake to go. Nothing like drowning my nerves in thick chocolate goodness, but I kinda wondered if that was the diet of an ‘it’ girl—or future ‘it’ girl.
I wanted to tell Mom all about this sudden unexpected twist, but the thing was, I wasn’t all that sure she’d be happy for me. It’s not like she wanted me to have a miserable summer. I knew she was hoping that, for once, Dad wouldn’t disappoint her, or more importantly, me, but she never understood that he didn’t disappoint me that often up ’til now.
See, I knew what he was like, and I’d learned to live with it. I think Mom’s issue was that I’d had to learn to deal with it in the first place.
So finding out I was a candidate—the only candidate, it seemed—for something like this, she’d say it had all the markings of Dad’s handiwork all over it. Even if Rico had never once mentioned my father…or my last name.
But I have to admit, I kinda had that little inkling myself. Dad knew a lot of people and could make things happen. I just wanted to believe that this was one thing I’d done on my own, without anyone else’s outside influence.
At the next traffic light, I pulled down my visor and looked in the mirror.
Was that the ‘Face’ of the House of Vanetti staring back at me?
8
Sorche jumped into my car almost as soon as I pulled into her driveway. She settled in, turning to drop her purse in the backseat behind us, her phone in her hand. She looked excited. “Well?”
“What?”
She practically bounced in her seat as we moved through traffic.
“What was this mysterious meeting of yours?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I want all the details, especially if it involves a guy.”
I laughed as she turned down the volume on the stereo.
I knew she figured JT would be caught up in it somehow. All right, so he was, but not like he’d been part of my plan all along; he’d just sorta appeared out of nowhere.
First the party, then the lounge chairs, the fashion show, and now this.
Kind of seemed like a habit of his.
“Hate to break it to you, but no guy involved.”
She laughed. “Okay, so I was wrong. No JT. So what was it? Did your dad want to have one of those ‘talks’? You know the type, no drinking and driving, no distracted driving, no drugs, no unprotected sex?”
Now that she mentioned it, I was a little glad we hadn’t had a chance to have any of those talks. Hard enough to go through that with my mom, but to listen to my estranged father give me his version of the ol’sex talk…well, talk about uncomfortable. Especially considering the clips of his make out scenes on YouTube. ’Course, knowing him, he’d probably pass that off to Trish now. I mentally crossed my fingers he’d figure Mom had already given me all the talks I’d require and stay clear of any uncomfy topics while I was here. I mean, we could talk about anything; just not that stuff…
I gripped the steering wheel a teensy bit tighter. “Nope. He’s out of town, remember?”
“Okay, fine. Secretive or what?” She skipped a couple songs on the playlist.
“Not that secretive. I just don’t wanna talk and drive, that’s all.”
“Fine. Pick a drive-thru. I’ll have an ice cream cone, and we can talk.”
The closest McD’s we passed appeared packed, so Sor gave me directions to a place a few blocks away. Soon, we settled in at a small outdoor café where Sor was greeted by the owner with a kiss on the cheek. She quickly introduced me, and we were soon led by one of the waiters to one of the best tables outside, out of
the direct sunlight and in the cool shade of a large potted palm. I ordered an iced coffee, Sorche a regular coffee, and we decided to split the ice cream brownie combo.
In moments, the waiter was back with our coffees and told us it wouldn’t be long for the rest of our order.
Sorche waited ’til he’d left, taking a long sip of her coffee before she spoke. “Well? You want to tell me what’s going on before I start imagining some truly horrible and hideous things.” She leaned back in her chair for a moment. “Adriana and her entourage sighting?”
I laughed as I opened my purse beside me on the oversized chair and took out Rico’s card. I hadn’t mentioned it at all to her since I’d gotten it, but now, that whole saying about burning a hole in your pocket was making a ton of sense.
I held it out to her.
She set down her coffee and wiped her hands off on a napkin before she took the card, her mouth falling open slightly as she saw the name emblazoned on the front. “Whoa.”
She raised her eyes to mine, clearly a hundred questions ready to be asked.
The waiter chose that moment to arrive with our dessert and two spoons. I thanked him and grabbed a spoon, working a trail down the river of whipped cream. At least, I was getting some of my chocolate fix.
Sor just stared at me, expectantly, leaning back in her chair, the card still dangling from her fingers.
“He handed it to me at the charity show when I was waiting for you to finish. First, I thought he was lost or looking for someone, then when he gave me his card, I thought he was just one of those slimy agent types you see in all the movies and TV shows. But then you walked over, and I realized who he was…” I took another bite of ice cream. Sorche barely blinked watching me. “Actually, all I knew was he was the designer. Then I got home and looked him up, and it turned out he’s—”
“The hottest new designer in Los Angeles?” she finished, looking back down at the card again. “Exactly.”
“So?”
“Then or today?”
“He was who you were meeting with?” Her eyes widened, and she finally almost put the card down. “So tell me what he said, word for word.”
“I had ‘the look’.”
She smiled, lifting her gaze from the card. She still hadn’t touched the ice cream yet. “I knew it!”
“Knew what?”
“You had ‘the look’! Didn't I say you were perfect for modeling?” She tapped the card against her palm. “I wonder if I can convince him to give me a finder's fee. After all, you wouldn't have been at the show if I hadn't brought you...” She looked thoughtful for a moment.
“Sor!”
She laughed. “Sorry. But wow. Tell me what else he said. I'm dying to hear.”
“He called this morning and asked to meet me. So I went…” I stopped for another bite of ice cream, my mouth suddenly going dry. “He's opening a new store somewhere here. He said it’s going to be the signature for his brand-new line, and he still didn't have a face for it until he saw me...” I blushed. Even repeating it didn't make it seem any more real. I mean, me?
Why?
“What did Rico give you when you said yes?”
“Actually...” I drew the word out so it sounded a lot longer than it was. Who knew whipped cream and drizzled chocolate sauce could be so yummy? I slid another spoonful in my mouth.
All right, so I was derailing answering Sorche's question. Maybe it was an outsider thing. She'd probably been asked to be 'the Face' or at least model a hundred times before.
This felt all so freaking new to me, I wasn't sure about anything.
I mean, truthfully, just between us, I still kinda figured the rug would be pulled out from under me at any moment and I would be on a plane back home. It’s why every night I laid in bed figuring out how to fit my new wardrobe into my suitcase.
Sor stole the sundae away from me. “Not another bite until you tell me what's up.”
“Other than the sun, the sky, the moon, and that weird cloud over there that looks strangely like a paw print...nothing.” I motioned to the cloud with my spoon and reached forward again, but she inched the ice cream back towards her.
“Chey...”
“Seriously. I haven't agreed to anything yet, and honestly, I'm not sure I want to do it, either.”
If I hadn't thought her jaw could drop any further, I'd just been proven wrong.
It was like I just told her the tooth fairy really looked a lot less like Tinkerbell and a lot more like her mother...
Stunned.
And in a rare occurrence for Sorche since I’d met her, speechless.
“Okay, say something because now, you're freaking me out.”
“Why wouldn't you want to do it? Are you insane? Think of everything. The clothes...the photo shoots...the attention. Oh my gosh...” She shook her head in utter disbelief. “I'd kill for this.”
I scooted back just a touch at those words.
“Not literally,” she said quickly as I discreetly slid my hand over the nearest knife on the table.
I cracked a smile and laughed before I stole back a spoonful of melting ice cream. “I just don't think this is my type of thing.”
She grabbed her first spoonful of ice cream as she studied me. “Give me one solid reason you won't do it.”
“For one, I think you're better qualified.”
“Where do I figure into this?” She looked confused as she swirled her spoon around in the whipped cream.
“Rico had pictures from the fashion show. Some were of you.”
“Are you kidding? You'd turn down 'the Face' of Vanetti for me?”
The wide-eyed disbelief clearly said she thought I was insane.
“Not for you,” I clarified, feeling very stupid all of a sudden, sorta like I had when JT decided to give me his unsolicited advice earlier. “It’s just that I never really thought of doing anything like this in the first place.”
“Uh huh.”
“And I keep thinking JT could have talked him into it.”
I mean, it looked like he was close to his cousins. Who knew what kind of influence he had on the guy? Not to mention Sorche had told him to apologize to me. Maybe he thought this would be a way to make things up to me.
“Right, because he has that much pull.”
“You don't think it's some weird scheme of his?”
“I'm not saying he isn't a complete manipulator when he wants to be, but this? No way. He'd be saying he discovered you himself. Trust me. I've known him forever.” She looked at me. “We go way back, kindergarten at the very least.”
“Okay.” I cut off a hunk of brownie with my spoon and chewed thoughtfully. Maybe I had the wrong image of JT in my head.
“Does that mean you'll do it?”
“Only one hurdle left.”
“Your dad?”
“I wish. My mom.”
Sor gave me a sympathetic look. “She'd really be upset?”
“I think it goes totally against her ‘don't fall into the L.A. lifestyle trap’ speech she gave me on the way to the airport.”
“Ouch.”
I nodded, stuffing more brownie goodness in my mouth. “So you can see why she's the last person I can tell right now.”
“You're going to have to tell her some time, though, aren't you?”
Honestly, if I could help it? I'd wait ’til I stepped off the plane at home, with my ads tucked snuggly under my arm, before I said a word.
***
Sor and I spent the next couple days together, hanging out usually at my place. I didn’t want to risk missing a call from Dad, even though he said he’d get a hold of me on my cell if it was something important. Aside from a few texts from him and Trish that first night, things had been pretty quiet. Though he did call around midnight every night, which I always thought was to make sure I was at home.
Sor looked up at me as I hung up the phone after a rare lunch time call while we took a break from the pool, enjoying a couple cold root beers and t
he air conditioning up in my room.
“What’s daddy dearest have to say?”
“He’s still stuck in meetings. Might be an extra day.” I shrugged. “He asked how I was doing living on take out…”
“Did you tell him you’re doing really, really good?”
I knew exactly what she was referring to.
Cruel Summer Page 12
