Shopaholic to the Stars
“Up. That looks amazing. And it isn’t on the skids.”
“Well, her price has fallen. Apparently she’s really moody. Shannon’s worked with her. Shannon says she’s permanently on the edge.”
“Shannon’s just jealous,” I snap.
I’m getting a bit sick of this Shannon. After our departure from The Black Flag, Suze got herself a day’s work as an extra on a TV show called Cyberville and made a new friend called Shannon, who’s been a professional extra for over twenty years. Shannon considers herself an expert on Hollywood, and Suze treats all her views with total reverence and keeps spouting them back to me. I mean, honestly. Just because you’ve been in The Matrix, it doesn’t mean you know everything.
“Lois just needs an exciting new look,” I say firmly. “Which I will give her.”
“What did Luke say about it?” Suze turns, her voice muffled by hairpins in her mouth. “You never told me.”
“Oh. Um.” I play for time by lining my lips carefully, even though I’ve already lined them.
“He is OK with it, isn’t he?” Suze gives me a sharp look. “Bex, you did tell him, didn’t you?”
“Well …” I cast around for the best answer. “There’s no point telling him yet.”
“You have to tell him!” Suze shoves a sparkly clip into her hair. “You can’t just join Team Lois and he has no idea!”
“I haven’t even met Lois properly yet,” I retort. “What if we don’t get on? Then I’ll have told Luke for no reason. I’ll wait till I get hired and then I’ll tell him.”
I don’t want to tell Luke yet about meeting Lois. First because I secretly know that Suze is right—Luke might raise objections. And, second, because I want to tell him when I’m already a success. I want to prove that I can make it here on my own.
“What if he sees you making conversation with Lois tonight?”
“Suze, this isn’t the Cold War! I’m allowed to talk to people! I’ll just say we were chatting. Can you hook me up?”
As Suze starts pulling at the fabric of my corset dress, my phone bleeps with three new texts, all in a row, and I reach for it on a nearby chair.
“Stop it!” Suze scolds me. “I can’t hook you if you move around. It’s only a text.”
“It might be an emergency.”
“It’s probably just Luke.”
“What do you mean, just Luke?” I say, punching in my code. “I wouldn’t say it’s just Tarquin.”
“Yes, you would; you say it all the time.” Suze wrenches at my dress. “Are you sure this is the right size?”
I can’t answer. I’m staring at my phone in a state of shock.
“Bex?” Suze pokes me. “Hello?”
“She’s coming,” I say at last.
“Who’s coming?”
“Elinor. Here.”
“Now?” says Suze in alarm.
“No, not now, but soon. In a week or so. I sent her a text, asking her to come, but I never thought she would—” I turn to face Suze, suddenly petrified. “Oh God. What shall I do?”
“You’ll stage an intervention, remember?” says Suze. “Because you’re so brilliant at conflict resolution, remember?”
“Right.” I swallow. “Yes.”
Somehow it all sounded better in theory. But the idea that Elinor is actually going to get on a plane to L.A., and Luke has no idea, and I’ll have the two of them to manage …
“Suze, you have to help me,” I say plaintively.
“I’m not helping you!” she says at once. “Count me out. I always thought it was a bad idea.”
“It isn’t a bad idea! It’s just … it might be more difficult than I thought.”
“I thought you were an expert,” says Suze rather unfeelingly. “I thought you had a variety of techniques up your sleeve and Buddha would guide you with his infinite wisdom.” She pauses, then adds, “Tell you what, I’ll buy you some more wind chimes, if you like.”
“Very funny.”
“Well, honestly, Bex, you must be nuts. What happened about Elinor’s surgery anyway?”
“It was canceled,” I say, reading the third text again. “It was only a minor procedure on her toe.”
“Her toe?” Suze stares at me. “I thought she was dying!”
“So did I,” I admit.
“Well, I think you should cancel her. Say you made a mistake and you won’t be here.” She prods my shoulder. “Turn around. There’s one more hook to do.”