Chapter 14
Carla
I watched Kellan go with a mixture of disappointment and relief. On one hand, I was disappointed our pleasant Sunday brunch had been so rudely interrupted. On the other, I was glad he wouldn’t be around to endure another moment of Selena’s insincere schmoozing. Seeing our waiter, I flagged him down to ask for the check. But when he arrived, uniformly handsome like all the other sleek, suave waiters at Empanadas, Selena ordered two more Mimosas instead.
“Selena,” I whined, only half-joking.
My former assistant pretended to be chagrined. “Just give me a few more minutes, Carla,” she insisted.
“What for?” I spat, finding it impossible to hide my irritation.
Selena batted her thick eyelashes, all too naturally, and smothered my hand on top of the table with her own. “I do feel terrible for what happened, and I’d like to make it up to you.”
I scoffed openly. “What, by letting me buy you a Mimosa?” We both laughed and the sudden outburst seeming to ease the tension between us.
Part of the reason Selena’s abrupt departure had cut so deeply was that it felt personal. Selena had been there from the beginning, toiling away over Styrofoam cups and fast food wrappers as we struggled to open Miami Models and make our mark on the South Beach scene.
We’d endured countless difficulties, triumphs and setbacks along the way. We’d shared numerous early mornings, endless days and late nights struggling to carve out our place in the crowded Miami marketplace. It was hard not to grow close to someone you’d spent so much time with, harder still to feel the sting of betrayal when the “friendship” ended so suddenly.
Selena hadn’t just left me in the lurch—she’d left me for Florida Faces, my biggest competitor. It was like finding out your sister was cheating with your husband. Thanks to Kellan, I’d managed to not only overcome the betrayal, but put it behind me. Now here it sat, young, beautiful and smiling—and ordering free drinks on my tab.
“Selena,” I said, gently sliding my hand out from beneath my former assistant’s palm. “What’s done is done. What you did to me, and the way you did it, can never be forgiven. It was inexcusable, but I’ve moved on. And so should you…”
Just as I went to get up, the waiter reappeared, blocking my escape and setting down two giant Mimosas in Empanada’s trademark oversized champagne flutes.
Selena smiled triumphantly. “There,” she said, holding up her glass as the waiter disappeared without the check. “At least do me the honor of sharing a drink with me, and let me apologize until it’s through.”
Still tempted to toss back my champagne and walk out, leaving Selena with the bill, I nodded instead. There was a part of me that wanted to hear what Selena had to say. There was a part of me that wanted to believe it had all been some giant mistake, a misunderstanding and not some nefarious scheme.
It was less for Selena’s benefit than my own. Kellan had been a blissful diversion—but I still couldn’t shake the hurt and sense of betrayal that lingered in Selena’s wake. “Fine,” I sighed, reaching for my glass. With the orange juice freshly squeezed, and the champagne first rate, there were worse ways to endure an apology. “Go for it.”
Selena chuckled, looking more radiant than ever. It wasn’t bad enough she’d left me in the worst of times, but she seemed to have flourished as a result, making the situation twice as bitter. She took a long, luxurious sip of her drink before setting the glass down and using both hands to gently smother my own again.
“First, let me say how sorry I am,” she insisted. “I never said anything to you, but Florida Faces had been trying to poach me for months. I ignored them for as long as I could, but they were so persistent. They promised me everything you wouldn’t. They didn’t want me as an assistant—they wanted me as a model.”
I shook my head. “So did I, Selena, when the timing was right.”
Selena’s nostrils flared slightly, belying her calm exterior. “I just felt like the timing would never be right,” she confessed. “Every time I asked for a shot, you refused. Even when it would’ve saved your ass to use me, you sent someone else instead.”
I nodded, finding it hard to argue with Selena’s version of events. Unfortunately, they were Selena’s version—and not reality. Selena was a beautiful girl, no doubt, but South Beach was full of beautiful girls. Looking out over the crowded deck of Empanadas, my critical eye saw half a dozen beauties who made even the stunning Selena look like chopped liver. That was the professional version, but how to tell someone you care about, the harsh, cold reality of the modeling game?
I’d mistakenly thought Selena would eventually get the hint, but clearly not. I wasn’t quite sure what Florida Faces’ game was, but I suspected it was more in hiring Selena away from their biggest competitor than actually using her as a model.
Still, I tried to see it from Selena’s point of view. “And have they given you your big break yet?” I asked, even though I already knew they hadn’t—not in any real or meaningful way, anyway. Despite the length of Ocean Beach Boulevard, and its sprawling beaches, South Beach was a small town. And the modeling business was even smaller.
Even running a smaller, boutique firm, I knew who was being booked for what, when, where and for how much. I had yet to hear of a single booking with Selena’s name attached to it. My former assistant jutted out her chin defiantly, bragging, “I actually just did a shoot for Dimples just this weekend.”
I nearly spit out my champagne. Dimples was a local drug store chain that liked to feature “realistic-looking” models in their weekly circulars. That meant they didn’t want the high-gloss, high cheek boned and typically high-priced supermodels everyone else in town did. It also meant they were the starting place for every child actor, former beauty queen and real housewife trying to get in the modeling game.
“Congrats,” I said, hiding a smirk with my champagne flute. “What did you make on that one?” I asked knowingly.
Selena avoided my eyes for the first time, muttering under her breath, “$500. But it will be great for my portfolio.”
Nearly finished with my drink, I set it down and looked Selena in the eyes. “Look Selena, I’m happy for you. I really am. If I neglected you, if I overlooked your talents, I apologize. But I never did so intentionally and what you did to me, the way you did it and especially when you did it… was. This is a small town, and you’ll never make a career here by burning bridges at one agency to jump to another.”
To my surprise, Selena nodded eagerly. “I know that now,” she insisted. “I made a mistake, and I’m paying for it. I know Dimples is small time. I know Florida Faces will never use me as a top model. I know I fucked you over. But what’s done is done, and all I can do now is tell you how sorry I am, and how I’ll never do it again.”
Despite being impressed by her apology, I naturally found it a day late and a dollar short. “That’s easy to say, Selena, when you know I’ll never give you a chance to do it again.”
“I’m not asking for one,” Selena insisted, clutching my hand again. “I just don’t want there to be bad blood between us anymore.”
I sighed, squeezing her hand back before pulling it away. “Me either,” I confessed. “I’m too tired to hate you anymore.”
Selena sat back in her seat. “Dating a male model will do that to you,” Selena teased. I blushed despite myself. “I thought you had a strict ‘no dating the models’ policy.”
I shrugged, indulging in a little spicy girl talk. “I wouldn’t call what we’re doing ‘dating,’ exactly.”
Selena squirmed delightedly in her chair. “Do I deserve the details yet?” she gushed. “Or am I still in friendship jail?”
I gave her a sympathetic smile. Despite what had happened between us, the fact was, I missed her. Still, it was too early for forgiveness just yet. The waiter passed just then, and I flagged him down. Assuming it was to ask for the check, Selena reached for her purse—either to chip in for the bill or, more likely, to get up and leave. Instead, I ordered two more Mimosas and sat back in my chair to enjoy the sunny afternoon and the impromptu reunion with Selena.
I figured it wouldn’t hurt to indulge in a little innocent girl talk and like a blind date, I didn’t have to commit. I was here, Selena was here and depending on how the conversation went, we could either leave and never see each other again or pick up a friendship that might be too valuable to discard completely.
Either way, the drinks were included with brunch so it wouldn’t cost me a dime. I figured that was fitting, considering how much Selena had cost me already.