“Welcome home, girls.” James walked into the dining room with his arms open for hugs. Giovanni and Noele crashed into him. James was six foot three, and they both fit well beneath his chin.
“You look pretty,” Giovanni said, hugging Elise. “I mean, with everything going on, you still look rested.” Giovanni was the spitting image of their mother, her clone in beauty and talent. General consensus named her the prettiest of the three sisters, with a curvy body wanted for the cover of every men’s magazine in America. Giovanni knew it, too; she was ever ready for a paparazzi shot. Even now, she wore full makeup.
The studio had been lucky to see Elise in some tinted moisturizer. Elise was, however, the most unusual-looking of the trio, with eyes that changed from dark blue to gray with her moods. They’d been steel gray for weeks now, unenthused by life.
“I don’t feel rested.”
Noele embraced her next. “Missed you.” She smelled sweet, like the amber-honey hue of her complexion. Despite their span in skin tone, among the three, Elise and Noele looked most alike. Perfect mixes of their parents’ best features, they had their father’s big, wide-set eyes, their mother’s signature Cupid’s-bow lips, and her thick, dark-brown hair that reddened in parts in the sun. Elise kissed her sister’s cheek and tousled her hair. Elise flat-ironed her own hair, but Noele liked hers natural and wild.
“How’s Aaron?” Sarah asked Elise while holding out her empty glass for another mimosa. “I’m sorry he couldn’t join us.”
She wasn’t; it was an inquiry about when she would see him. “He’s filming, Mom.”
“Is everything all right?” Sarah asked, noticing her tone.
Elise compiled a bagel, lox, and veggies to make a sandwich. “It is.” Elise stole an I-told-you-so look at James. Her mother always assumed that anything wrong with her had to do with Aaron. Under the circumstances, it was both annoying and offensive. She handed her mother her replenished flute. “Can I get you anything else?”
Sarah shook her head hard. “I had a full breakfast this morning.” The family waited, knowing she would list the details. “Half a cup of oatmeal with a drizzle of maple syrup and three strawberries.”
“Three, huh?” Noele said. “Save some for someone else.”
“Mom, it’s almost noon.”
Sarah went back to her agenda. “What did the studio want to discuss?”
Elise sighed, hoping her mother would get the hint that she didn’t want to talk. “The European press tour.” She fisted some brownie bites, then poured herself an inch of whiskey before opting for the chair on the other side of her father.
“Are they asking about Kitty?” Giovanni tried to sound casual, but Elise could tell she was asking for the benefit of their mother.
“Not yet.”
Sarah gestured around the room, able to accommodate a hundred standing people. “Isn’t it beautiful in here this time of day?” It was. The crystals on the three-tiered chandelier, hanging fourteen feet high, reflected rainbows onto the white walls, surrounding them as though they were at a disco party. Their mother was an ethereal beauty, like the rainbows decorating the space. She was the stereotype of what one would expect of one of the most famous, beautiful, and celebrated actresses in the world. She’d starred in more than thirty films, graced the covers of most magazines, and was in the double digits for award nominations. She exuded excellence from her pores.
Elise’s sisters smiled, as if it was only the fourth or fifth time she’d said this.
“I wish we were enjoying it under different circumstances,” Elise said.
James, taking over, peeked around a vase at Noele. “We can have a lot more family time if Noele decides to move back home.” He winked to liven the mood.
“Dad, I’m going to law school.”
As the fighter of the trio, eight years in New York had molded Noele into someone confident enough to think she knew who she was. Being older, Elise knew she didn’t but saved her lectures. If the smiles and shared meals posted on her private Instagram account were any indication, Noele was satisfied with her life.
“Baby, I’m happy you want to help people, but—”
“What could you possibly have to say to that, Dad?” Noele said.
“You’re fortunate enough to be able to buy your own law firm and have them all work pro bono.”
“So, then I’d have time to take singing lessons again, right?”
James looked at Elise. “Who said anything about her singing?”
Elise, not in the mood to translate, kept eating. However happy Noele appeared, she was sensitive about this subject. Her voice was indeed a gift, and Elise, like everyone (though only their father voiced his opinion), thought it was going to waste. Still, Elise admired Noele’s resolute commitment to building a life outside of her family—though she wondered how the next few days might change that.
“I know what you were thinking,” Noele said.
James laughed at his youngest, who thought she was the smartest person in every room. “You’re wrong.” He pointed his fork at Noele. “You want to be a lawyer? Be a lawyer. As long as you get some good security.”
“I could barely get to the airport.” Noele passed her phone around the table for the visual. Noele had chosen New York University for the sake of anonymity, which came relatively easily because she had never been in show business. Her last name had stoked interest in her for the first couple of months, but she had moved somewhat anonymously for years—up until that week, of course.
“Where were you?” Sarah asked, frowning. “This view isn’t from your place.”
“Rebecca said first photos will go for upwards of two hundred thousand,” Elise said.
“Everybody has to eat,” James said.
“Stay at the apartment,” Elise said. The St. Johns had an unknown residence on the Upper West Side.
“It’s too far from my job,” Noele said. “But I may have lost that already.” She worked with domestic violence victims, and her being followed risked the victims’ safety.
“Probably, with all the media attention,” Giovanni agreed.
Elise sat back as the whiskey took effect, and Giovanni moved to business, as always. “So, my executive producer credit comes with a new arc.” Now in its third season, the AMC period piece suspended boundaries of race and gender and had become very popular. Giovanni, who played a teacher at a boarding school in early-nineteenth-century New York City, would become a series regular that season.
“Not that you didn’t deserve it ages ago, but good for you,” Noele said. Their father tipped his head to second the sentiment.
“It feels good to have a say.”
Giovanni was an Oscar-winning actress by the time she was thirteen but, at twenty-eight, still didn’t have nearly the visibility of others without the same accolades nor time in the industry. Publicly, she chalked it up to resentment over her pedigree and simply worked harder; she had taken acting lessons every week for years. But the slight had nothing to do with her talent. Finally, “ethnic” was in, and while Giovanni should have been included in what felt like a trend, casting directors often still said she was too “exotic,” not like a real Black girl.
“Will there be a love interest?” Noele said.
“Yes, finally!”
“I thought she already had something with one of the other teachers?” Giovanni gave Elise a look; it delighted Elise to see her blush. “What’s his name?” Elise teased again. Her sister was, as few besides Elise knew, sleeping with said actor in real life.
“So it’s a new story line?” Sarah exclaimed.
“We had our first kiss two episodes ago.”
“I can’t keep up,” Sarah said, laughing.
Giovanni looked hurt, but only Noele watched Giovanni’s show religiously.
“No one watches everything I do either,” Elise said.