My mom is gonna kill me.
The thought had become a recurring refrain as Taylor stood before the mirror in the women’s bathroom at the Denny’s restaurant near the highway in Barton. She held a mascara wand. Her hand trembled so violently that she poked herself in the eye with it.
“Ouch!” Taylor dropped the wand and rubbed her eye.
“Stop that. You’re rubbing off your eye shadow.”
Desiree stood at Taylor’s shoulder, applying a coat of dark red lipstick to her mouth.
“Taylor, you need eyeliner,” Desiree said.
Taylor gave her a reflection a worried look. “Desiree, I’m no good at it. I haven’t worn eyeliner since Halloween.”
The bathroom door opened and a woman in a Denny’s uniform walked in. Before she entered the bathroom stall, she shot the girls a suspicious look. Taylor met the woman’s eye in the mirror, then glanced quickly away. The waitress had a funny eye, which wandered sideways in the reflection.
Desiree dropped her voice to a whisper. “We have to look older, or it isn’t gonna work out.”
Taylor nodded in agreement; but privately she’d begun to hope that this plan would not pan out. She had a bad feeling about it. And if her mother knew what she was up to, there would be trouble.
Big trouble.
Desiree was slipping her feet into a pair of worn stilettos. “Did you bring shoes to change into?”
Taylor shook her head. “Couldn’t find any.”
“Doesn’t your mom have any sexy shoes? To go clubbing in?”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “You know my mom. Clubbing isn’t her scene. She just works all the time. All her shoes are the black ones she wears to court. They’re ugly.”
With a sigh of resignation, Desiree handed the red lipstick to Taylor. “Good thing you’re tall.”
The girls were surveying their appearance in the mirror when the Denny’s waitress pushed between them to wash her hands. In a voice of disapproval, the woman said, “What are you kids up to in here? This bathroom is for customers only.”
Taylor gave her friend an apprehensive glance in the mirror. Desiree lifted her chin.
“We’re customers. We got a business meeting.”
She flounced out the door, wobbling on her heels. Taylor followed behind. As they walked into the restaurant, Desiree paused.
“She’s here. It’s her.”
Taylor had spotted her, too. A woman with elaborately styled auburn hair sat alone at a back booth, sipping from a coffee mug.
Stretching her mouth into a wide grin, Taylor followed Desiree to the booth. The woman looked up as they approached. She greeted them with a toothy smile.
“Are you my modeling applicants?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Desiree, as she slid into the booth. Taylor sat beside her. Her heart was hammering.
“I recognize you from the application pictures. But I’m happy to say, you’re even prettier in person.”
She focused on Taylor. “You have an excellent build. And the most beautiful skin.” She reached across the table and stroked the skin of Taylor’s forearm. Taylor’s arm jerked reflexively. Embarrassed, she folded her hands in her lap.
Desiree spoke up. “Taylor was afraid she’d be too dark. She said all the models in the pictures you showed us are white and Asian. But I told her I bet it wouldn’t matter.”
The woman smiled, lifting her coffee mug. “Oh, we are an equal opportunity agency.” After she took a sip, she said, “So Tony’s met you on Skype. It’s time for the next step. You excited?”
Taylor’s heart was beating so violently, she was afraid the woman would see it hammering through her dress. “Why isn’t he here?”
The woman’s smile froze. “What?”
Desiree shot Taylor a look that said: Don’t mess this up. Taylor cleared her throat.
“Tony. It’s just—wasn’t he supposed to be here? To interview us?”
As the woman pinned her with a stare, Taylor slumped back against the cushion of the booth. “I guess I misunderstood.”
The waitress from the bathroom came up to their table. As she pulled out her pad, she addressed the girls with a cocked brow over her wandering eye. “What can I get you ladies?”
Taylor shook her head, preparing to say “Nothing for me, thanks.” But Desiree spoke right up.
“I’ll have a sweet tea.”
The woman across the booth reached out and placed her hand over Desiree’s on the vinyl tabletop. “Unsweet,” she whispered.
Desiree nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Unsweet.”
As the waitress walked off, the woman winked at Desiree and said, “You’re a model now.”
Desiree’s face broke into a wide smile. Taylor saw that her friend had a streak of red lipstick on her front tooth.
“Really?”
“Really.” She patted Desiree’s hand; then giving Desiree a wink, the woman curled her upper lip and scrubbed her tooth with a finger. Desiree gasped, hastily imitating the gesture and swiping at her own offending tooth. The woman turned her attention to Taylor.
“Tony’s career name for Desiree is Lola. And for you, sweetheart, he’s come up with a beauty. You’ll be Coco.”
Taylor blinked. Why did she need a fake name? A question popped out before she could stop it.
“What’s your name?”
The woman tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You can call me Dede.”
“Okay,” said Taylor. “Dede what?”
Dede’s eyes narrowed. Before she could reply, Desiree spoke in a breathless voice.
“When do I get my first gig?”
The smile returned. “Well, Desiree—I mean, Lola—Tony is ready to do a photo shoot for you this Friday night. Both of you.” Her eyes cut to Taylor. “If you’re interested.”
“Yesss,” Desiree said.
Taylor twisted her hands in her lap. “I’ve got a game Friday.”
Her friend turned on her, with a disbelieving face. “Taylor. It’s a photo shoot.”
She was torn. Desiree was counting on her. They’d pledged to do this together. “But the team is counting on me.”
“The team?” Dede’s voice was cool. “Our application form is clear: this is for professionals. Young women who want a career. Not little girls who want to play ball.”
Under the table, Desiree’s hand snaked around Taylor’s knee; the pressure of the squeeze made her jump. Desiree said, “Taylor’s just kidding around. We’re interested. What time?”
“Ten o’clock.”
“In the morning?” Taylor said.
Dede dove into a turquoise blue handbag and pulled out a five-dollar bill. As she set it under the coffee mug, she said, “Ten p.m. Tony’s busy all day. Ten o’clock is the only time this week that he can fit you in.”
“That works,” Desiree said.
“Good!” The waitress walked up with Desiree’s glass of tea. Dede waited until she walked off, then added, “We’ll even pick you up. That’s how serious we are about your audition.”
The girls exchanged a look. Desiree’s eyes were bright, as if she might be on the verge of happy tears.
But Taylor felt a lump in her stomach. “Are you picking us up at our houses?” She didn’t know how she’d explain this red-haired woman showing up at ten at night. Her mom would eat Dede alive.
“No, silly. We’ll pick you up here. In the parking lot.” Dede scooted out of the booth. “Don’t be late, sugars. Tony hates it when his girls are late.”
Taylor watched Dede walk off, her bright blue bag bouncing on her shoulder.
My mom’s going to kill me, she thought.