“Well, it looks sharp. I must say, Evelyn, you look good. Unemployment agrees with you,” Nick said.
Scot, who was turning his large head around the room—Evelyn supposed he saw the unusual view of tops of heads, cowlicks, and thinning spots, given his height—snapped it back. “You told Nick?”
“It was a secret? Oopsies,” said Preston, covering his mouth with his hand.
“You didn’t know your girl here has joined Camilla in the ranks of the unsalaried?” Nick said.
Scot’s mouth set in a line that Evelyn hadn’t seen before, and he said in her ear, “So you told everyone but me?”
“I told you, too,” Evelyn said, looking beyond him and opening her mouth in mock surprise as she waved at Bridie Harley, who had just walked in. “What time is it? I have to get backstage for the runway.”
“Evelyn.” He turned her so she was facing him straight on. “When were you laid off?”
“The weekend?” she said, biting her lip in a way she’d seen Camilla do with Nick.
“It’s Wednesday. You just told me now?”
“I told you a few hours ago.”
“Days after it happened?”
“We’re time-stamping everything now?”
“Everyone else seems to have known for a while.”
“Rumors travel fast,” she said as Camilla glided over and said, “Evelyn, my dear, we have to go backstage immediately.”
“Where are you going to work?” Scot said.
“Isn’t it fantastic? Evelyn was never meant to work at that place anyway,” Camilla said gaily.
“Where are you going to work?” Scot repeated.
Evelyn hoped Camilla would jump in to answer the question, but Camilla was looking at her expectantly. “I’m … not.”
“What?” Scot said.
“It’s just impossible to keep up my life and work at the same time.”
“We’ll see you on the runway, Scootles!” Camilla trilled, grabbing Evelyn’s right elbow while Scot held tight to her left one.
“How are you going to support yourself?” Scot said.
Camilla released Evelyn’s arm and rolled her eyes. “So practical,” she whispered to Evelyn. Then, more loudly, “See you backstage!”
Scot was still staring at her.
“What?”
“How are you going to support yourself?”
“I don’t know. How does Camilla support herself?”
“Are you being serious?”
“I suppose so.”
“Camilla has somewhere north of twenty million dollars managed for her right now, and she’ll come into about quadruple that when her parents pass away.”
Evelyn blinked. “I—I have family money, too.” Her parents would eventually loosen their grip on their money; they had to. Though her mother hadn’t sent the faux rent money in a month or two, Evelyn remembered; she should track that down.
Scot dug his hands into the roots of his hair and tugged at it, waiting for her to say more, but she didn’t. “I’m late,” Evelyn finally said, ignoring his “Wait. Wait.”
She turned, hurrying alongside the makeshift runway, and moved the curtain at the end of it back.
Camilla was sitting in a chair as an intensely angled woman applied eyebrow powder to her. “I knew Scot wouldn’t understand,” she said as a man with swooped-forward hair like Prince’s pushed Evelyn into a chair next to Camilla’s and began smearing foundation over her cheeks.
“Well, you were right. He seemed baffled.”
“A man whose life ambition is dealing with media companies can’t be expected to understand, can he? Scot’s very sweet, but honestly. He’s never been taught the virtues of charity work or anything like that.”
“You don’t think he’s meant for greatness.”
Camilla smiled at Evelyn sympathetically. “I really don’t.”
Evelyn looked at herself in the dark mirror, surrounded by Broadway-like bulbs. The Prince man, whose breath smelled of raisins, dipped a brush in a pot of eyeliner and began applying a thick stripe along Evelyn’s lashline. “Scot’s dressing better. Have you noticed?” Evelyn asked.
“He absolutely is, darling, but clothes only do so much.”
“A pink shirt does not make the man,” Evelyn said.
“I meant to ask you about your father’s donation,” Camilla said, shutting her eyes for eye shadow. “We have him down in the program as a Luminary Patron, so we do need the check before the event.”
“Ouch!” said Evelyn, though the Prince man’s eyeliner brush was in the pot of liquid. “Sorry, I just got something in my eye. Can I just—I need to just go get it out.”