Emma Catwalks and Cupcakes!

by Coco Simon

  Katie looked at me, unsure.

  “Then it’s settled,” the marketing representative said. (She was the one who first noticed Katie and asked her name.) She picked up the phone and called the receptionist. “You can send the rest of the girls home. We’ve made our selection. Please bring in the paperwork.”

  I hung the peacoat and scarf back on the rack and picked up my portfolio. I wasn’t sure if I should leave or stay, so I just kind of stood there.

  A moment later the receptionist came back into the room. “Congratulations, Emma,” she said.

  “Oh, no, our new model is Katie,” one of the men interjected. “Could you please set her up with all the necessary paperwork?”

  “Of course!” the receptionist said, not missing a beat. She turned her big grin on Katie. “Well, Katie! It looks like you’ve been discovered!” she said. “How does it feel?”

  Katie looked back at me and then at the receptionist again. “It feels . . . confusing. But also a little exciting, I guess.”

  The receptionist took Katie gently by the arm. “Please come by my desk, dear,” she said. “I need some information from you, and there are some forms to take home for your parents.”

  The men and women sitting in the room stood up to leave, but then they suddenly realized that I was still standing there like a dope.

  “Oh, Emma, you’re lovely,” one of the women said. “But I’m sure you already know that! We’ll keep you in mind for future assignments.”

  “Absolutely,” one of the men agreed. “But you must be so excited for your friend!”

  “Oh, I am . . . ,” I began. They all looked at me expectantly, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so we all walked out.

  • • •

  Downstairs, Katie and I waited outside the building for my mom. I was so dumbfounded by what had just happened that I couldn’t even think of a thing to say.

  After a minute or two, Katie said, “So . . . that was a surprise.”

  I had to laugh. “Yeah, it was.” I was glad she had broken the ice.

  “Are you upset that they offered me the job and not you?” Katie asked. She turned to look at me, her brown eyes large and serious. “I feel really bad.”

  “No, of course not,” I said. “Don’t feel bad. These things happen all the time. Anyway, I think it’s great you’re getting a chance to model. I’m just a little taken aback, that’s all.” It took a lot of effort to be kind right then.

  “Oh good,” Katie said. I could see she was relieved. “I’m glad.”

  Right then my mom rolled up, and we climbed in. We were both silent.

  “How did it go?” Mom asked as we buckled up.

  “Great!” I said, mustering as cheery a voice as possible.

  “Oh, sweetie, that’s wonderful. When do you start?”

  “Um, I don’t,” I said. “But Katie does!”

  My mom eased the car into a bus lane, put the car in park, and turned around. “Did you say ‘Katie’?” she asked. I nodded. My mom couldn’t hide her surprise.

  “Why, Katie . . . that’s—that’s wonderful,” she stammered. I could see her giving Katie a quick once-over. Her eyes lingered on Katie’s wrinkled and stained T-shirt and faded flip-flops, and I cringed inwardly, thinking of the moms in the elevator earlier. Had my mom turned into one of them? Had I turned into one of those girls? Would life be a lot simpler and more fun if I were working at the town pool this summer?

  “I’m sorry, dear. I don’t mean to act so surprised. It’s just that you . . . you’re . . .”

  “Not really the model type?” Katie said cheerfully. “I know! Nobody was more surprised than me! This whole thing is so weird. I’m not sure my mom will even let me do it. I mean, nothing personal . . .”

  I waved my hand. I knew she didn’t mean anything bad by it.

  “It’s just that with her dental practice being so busy now that school is out, she really doesn’t have time to take me into the city for these sorts of things, so . . .”

  “Well . . .” My mom looked at me and then at Katie and then back at me again. “It certainly is a surprise.”

  “I’m starving!” I said, changing the subject. “Where are we going for lunch?”

  • • •

  The rest of the day was fun. I put the awkward modeling thing out of my mind and enjoyed our lunch at this cool, open-air taco stand downtown. Katie and I chowed down on an assorted taco platter with all kinds of fillings: shredded pork carnitas, stewed lamb birria, pulled chicken, and more. We were so full and had so much fun. Everything was back to normal for a bit.

  The Three Sisters cupcake store was tucked on a cute little cobblestone side street, with tiny boutiques and chic cafés everywhere. We spotted the pink-and-white–striped awning from up the block and speed walked up to it.

  Katie had first seen it on a cooking show, Exclusive Sweetshops Worldwide or something, and she’d DVRed it so we could all watch it the next time the Cupcake Club met at her house. As soon as we saw the episode, we swooned over the store, agreeing that if the Cupcake Club ever opened its own shop, it would be just like this one.

  It was owned by (surprise!) three sisters, and it was very girlie inside, decorated with lots of pink and white and floral patterns and stripes, and white marble–topped tables with chairs that had gold curlicued backs and pink leather seats.

  The cupcake flavors were awesome, from Primrose (pink vanilla cake with pale pink, rose-flavored frosting, and tiny candied rose petals on top) to Sleepover Party (dark fudgy cake with a cookie dough center, and salted caramel frosting studded with marshmallows and a sprinkling of crushed potato chips). It was pure heaven!

  My mom had given us money and told us to pick out eight cupcakes—two for each member of the club, all different—and one of the sisters boxed them for us in a pink-and-white–striped bakery box with a big pink bow. I couldn’t wait to show Mia and Alexis, so Katie texted them to meet us at my house in about two hours. We took tons of photos of every detail to put up on social media with the hashtag “#cupcakecrushing,” including a couple of selfies.

  As we turned to leave, the sister behind the counter said to me, “Hey! Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  “Me?” I asked in surprise. “Um, maybe?”

  “Are you a model?” she asked.

  “Well, yes. I mean, I do some modeling. Maybe you’ve seen some of my ads.”

  “I’m sure! You did the She’s So Lovely campaign for The Special Day, right?” She was smiling and pointing her finger at me. “Gotcha!” she said with a grin.

  I laughed. “Yes.”

  “I’m a model too!” Katie piped up.

  Inwardly, I winced, since it wasn’t the coolest thing to brag about and also because, come on—she was barely a model, but I didn’t say anything.

  “Could I get your card, or your sheet, or whatever, please?” the sister asked me. “We’re about to do a big campaign to target teenage girls for cooking classes and birthday parties, and we need a face. You’d be perfect!”

  “Wow! Sure. Thank you so much! I have one in the car up the street. Or, you know what? I can just e-mail my information to you. Or you can contact my agent.”

  “Great. I’m Lindsay Miller, by the way.” She put out her hand, and I shook it.

  “Emma Taylor. Nice to meet you. I love your store! We’ve been watching your Exclusive Sweetshops Worldwide episode on repeat.”

  Lindsay busied herself getting me her business card. “Are you girls huge cupcake lovers?”

  Katie and I explained the Cupcake Club to her, and Lindsay said, “Wow! Now we really need to hire you. You’re the real deal. Send me your info, and we’ll be in touch, okay?”

  Katie piped up, “I’m sorry I can’t send you mine because I don’t have it yet, but if I get it together, I’ll send mine too.”

  It was a little awkward because Lindsay hadn’t actually been asking Katie for her information. Plus, it kind of annoyed me that Katie was butting in
like this.

  Today would definitely be the last time I would ever bring a friend on a go-see. Talk about a bad idea.

  “Okay, thanks, girls!” said Lindsay, waving as we left.

  We both waved back at her.

  “Wow! That was so cool that she recognized you!” Katie said when we got outside. “You’re like . . . a celebrity!”

  I had to admit, I was pretty psyched, but I didn’t want to let on, so I said, “Yeah. That was pretty cool.”

  “Does that happen to you a lot?”

  “No, not really. I mean, maybe locally, like in town, but in the city? Never.”

  Katie chattered on. “Are you psyched to work for them? You know the first thing Alexis will want to know is if we can do a collaboration with them or some kind of cross-promotion, right?”

  “Oh wow! I didn’t even think of it! Just wait until she gets her marketing wheels spinning. Watch out!”

  We laughed, and the stress of the day floated away again as we began chatting about cupcake business. I was looking forward to seeing Mia and Alexis when we got home and hearing all about Alexis’s first day at her pool project. I was sure it had been awesome. Plus it would be a relief to talk about something—anything!—besides Katie’s new modeling career.

  CHAPTER 3

  Career Surprises

  Wait, start over again from the part in the elevator!” Mia was saying as we waited for Alexis to arrive. We were hanging out at the kitchen table at my house, rehashing our day.

  Katie laughed and began retelling the day’s adventures from basically the beginning. For the third time.

  I couldn’t help myself. I sighed and maybe even rolled my eyes the tiniest bit.

  My mom and dad had been very reluctant to let me start modeling, back when I first began. They cautioned me about how phony the industry was and how it places value on the wrong aspects of a person—things you can’t even control (like height) or develop through practice. They warned me that I would have my feelings hurt repeatedly in the line of duty. Overall, now that I’d been in it for a while, I agreed with them, and I was glad they had taken the time to educate me about all this before I started.

  But the truth was, I do enjoy it. I’ve worked with some really fun people (especially my friend Mona, who owns the local bridal salon—she “discovered” me), and I’ve had some cool experiences (meeting the mega–movie star Romaine Ford, for one). I’ve made great money, and I know I’ve gained confidence from it all. Yes, of course, as with anything, there are downsides. But for the most part, I do think modeling is a decent job.

  The one thing my family—my parents and my three brothers—is very big on is not letting any of it go to my head. If I come home from a job and I still have on makeup, my brothers make fun of me and my parents make me rush to take it off. If my mother catches me mentioning anything negative about my looks or my body, she warns me that I might have just done my last modeling gig. And heaven forbid I say anything that sounds like bragging. They’ll jump all over me the second it’s out of my mouth.

  Obviously, Katie’s mom hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about any of this—she wouldn’t even know what was going on until Katie got home and told her!—but her bragging attitude was creeping back in. If I had to hear her say one more time about how I had been “all dolled up for the job” and she “rolled out of bed and got it,” well, there was no saying what I’d do!

  Luckily, Alexis walked into my house right then. We’d been waiting for her to finish her shift at the pool, and I for one couldn’t wait to hear all about it.

  She was learning more about a business she’s interested in. Plus, she gets to go into the pool on her breaks, and she sees tons of kids we know from school. She’ll be up to speed on all the news around town, and she’ll probably see some cute boys and get to eat ice cream every day. It just sounds like lots of fun. Like a real, old-fashioned summer.

  Hmm . . . but maybe not.

  Alexis dropped her bag in our mudroom and beelined through the kitchen to the couch in the family room. “I’ve had a day!” she said dramatically as she flopped onto her back on the sofa and flung an arm over her eyes to shield them from the light overhead.

  We scurried in after her and perched on various seats around the room.

  “What’s up, Alexis?” I asked from the beanbag chair on the floor. “How did it go? I’m dying for details!”

  “It was awful! Just awful!” Alexis said with a shudder.

  “What?” I sat upright and exchanged worried looks with Mia and Katie. Alexis had been so psyched for this project. What could possibly have gone wrong?

  “What on Earth happened?” said Mia, reaching over and rubbing Alexis’s arm in concern.

  Alexis strongly dislikes being “pawed,” as she calls it. Mia always forgets that. Alexis flung off Mia’s hand and sat bolt upright.

  “My boss is a menace!” she said, and she flopped back dramatically.

  We looked at one another in concern.

  “Who’s your boss?” asked Katie.

  “Mary Jane Parks. And she’s the meanest, pickiest, bossiest boss who ever bossed!”

  I had to crack a smile at Alexis’s description. “Why?”

  “ ‘Alexis, the ketchup labels need to face out!’ ‘Alexis, don’t give out so many napkins!’ ‘Alexis, you’re not using enough ice in the sodas!’ ” she mimicked. “Ugh!”

  “Was there anything you did right?” Mia asked hopefully.

  “Apparently not,” Alexis said grimly.

  “How old is this Mary Jane person?” I asked. Maybe she was a cranky old lady who was annoyed at having a kid work for her?

  “Fifteen,” Alexis sighed.

  “Fifteen!” shrieked Mia. “Seriously?”

  “Why is she so bossy?” I asked. My mental image of Mary Jane Parks was now completely revised.

  “She’s been there for three years already, and Mrs. Chilson—she’s the real boss—loves her. Just loves her! It’s ‘Oh, Mary Jane this,’ and ‘Mary Jane that,’ and ‘Mary Jane prefers it when X, Y, and Z.’ But Mary Jane’s awful. She’s mean!” Alexis huffed and folded her arms across her chest.

  “Well, how’s the job otherwise?” asked Katie.

  Alexis inhaled deeply. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s fun to be there because it’s so busy and summery and you see everyone. And you’re kind of looked up to by all the little kids. They come around begging for free cups of sprinkles and stuff. . . .”

  “Which I am sure you do not give them?” I said. Alexis is all about the bottom line—getting her to give discounts or give away free stuff in our cupcake business is nearly impossible.

  “Absolutely not!” said Alexis.

  “Phew! We wouldn’t want you to compromise your business principles just for a job,” I teased.

  “The cleaning up is a bummer. Kids spill like two milkshakes an hour, and there are lots of bees because of all the spilled soda. It’s pretty greasy inside the snack bar. Luckily, I don’t have to do any cooking. I’m not licensed to work the Fry-o-lator. . . .”

  “Thank goodness!” said Mia, laughing.

  “But I do have to wear a hairnet and plastic gloves. . . .”

  We smiled at the mental image of that.

  Let me tell you, modeling was starting to look like a walk in the park compared to Alexis’s summer project.

  “Listen, I think we should all come by tomorrow and scope out this Mary Jane person and watch you in action!” I suggested.

  Everyone readily agreed, and we set the time for noon the next day. Then we unpacked the Three Sisters cupcakes and laid them out on a big cutting board with a sharp knife. This is how we like to do our tastings: We cut each cupcake into quarters by making an X through it from top to bottom. Then we each take a plate and load up our cupcake quarters and taste each flavor at the same time so we can discuss it. Katie keeps a tally on a piece of paper of which ones we like best. We score them from one to ten.

  “Okay, first up . . . St
rawberry Cheesecake!” directed Mia.

  We each lifted the yellow-and-red–swirled cupcake and brought it to our mouths at the same time.

  “Go!” said Katie, and we each took a bite.

  “Mmm. Creamy!” said Alexis.

  “I like that the strawberry is tart!” Mia said thoughtfully. “I wasn’t expecting that. It’s like strawberries with cream but unsweetened.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Not my favorite,” I said.

  “It tastes authentic. I’ll give them that. But it’s more of a cupcake for grown-ups,” said Katie.

  I rated it a three, Mia and Katie both gave it a five, but Alexis was more generous. She gave it a seven, but then again she likes unsweetened stuff since her mom is super into health food.

  Sleepover Party was next (I picked it because I’d had my eye on it from the start), and it was insanely delicious. The burst of chewy cookie dough in the center was a winner, and the salty caramel frosting and potato chip topping was a great contrast to the sweetness of the cake. We all gave it a nine and agreed it would be the main event of any sleepover party.

  A few others were just so-so until we got to cupcake number seven, A Summer Day.

  “What do you think this one is?” asked Mia, lifting her quarter and looking at it from all angles.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I’m going for it!”

  “One, two, three!” Alexis counted us in, and we took a bite.

  “Oh wow!” I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. “Mmmmm!”

  “Okay, this is delicious! Like, seriously delicious!” agreed Mia.

  “What’s in it, Katie?” Alexis asked. We always turn to Katie for cooking and flavor info since she’s the chef among us.

  Katie closed her eyes and chewed, then swallowed and paused. “Okay. The cake itself is cotton candy. For sure. That is really unique, and we’ve got to do that in our next test baking session. The frosting is . . . would you all agree it tastes just like vanilla soft-serve ice cream? The sprinkles on top would confirm that, and the pointy swirl from the frosting application. It’s like a summer day at the snack bar!” said Katie with a laugh. “Right, Alexis?”