But she was busy tapping buttons on her phone, ignoring me completely.
“Carlos, darling, it’s Alize Montgomery, and I need a favor. Could you work a very special friend in before the gala? Her color is dreadful, so maybe a bit lighter so she won’t look so washed out. And schedule her for a facial. Her skin looks bone dry. And her brows…” She clicked her tongue. “Yes, yes. Mani, pedi. The works. Can’t have my little baby’s picture in the society pages with ragged cuticles, now can we?” She glanced at me. “When was the last time you waxed?”
My mouth fell open.
“Schedule her for a full wax. Yes, Brazilian, of course.” She batted her eyes at me. “Winston will be there, so you need to be prepared.”
I waved my hands in front of her face, mouthing no, no, no. It seemed everyone was looking at me but her. I gave up. I just wouldn’t go. I wouldn’t show up at these appointments, and I wouldn’t be going to the gala. My stomach churned. Especially if he was there.
She narrowed her eyes at me, examining every inch of my face while she listened to something Carlos was saying. She covered the mouthpiece of her phone. “How old are you, darling?”
I wasn’t even surprised that she didn’t remember. “I’ll be twenty-two in December.”
She frowned. Well, as frowny as multiple injections will allow. “Are you sure?”
“I can show you my driver’s license if you wish.”
Her eyes widened, but her eyebrows didn’t even move a millimeter. “When did you begin driving?”
I didn’t even answer, just took another drink of my sweet tea.
“Carlos, my love, she’s nearly twenty-two now. I agree. Botox can’t be started too early these days. She does seem to be sagging around the eyes. She doesn’t have my genes, you know. Takes her hair and complexion from her father, God rest his soul…”
Breathe in love.
Breathe out hate.
I repeated the mantra in my head, tuning out my mother’s voice as she continued to toss tiny needles of hurt in my direction.
Alize Renee Jones Anderson Wright Morris Adams Montgomery was a former supermodel, soap opera star, and B-movie starlet, with hopes and dreams of someday being the next Julia Roberts, before she got knocked up by my sixty-two-year-old father when she was only nineteen. My birth apparently ruined her life.
Of course, ruined was a relative term. If ruined meant marrying a multimillionaire who conveniently died of a heart attack a year later, leaving his young widow the bulk of his entire estate, then yeah, I ruined her life.
“Would you like your lips plumped, darling?”
“No!”
She pursed her overly plumped lips together. “We’ll pass on that for now, Carlos darling. Let’s focus on making her not look so dull. Is there anything you can do about freckles?”
I sighed and leaned back in my seat, wishing my salad would come so I’d have something to pick at. From the corner of my eye, the hottie guy shifted in his seat.
Looking in his direction again, I froze when our eyes met in the reflection of the bar’s mirror. He looked so familiar. Why was he familiar? I glanced down at the hat beside him and remembered — he was the same guy I bumped into in the alley.
How embarrassing.
Among all the other traits the gene fairy forgot to pass on to me from my mother, grace was also one of them. While Mom could walk all day in stilettos with a book on top of her head, I had to wear wedge heels or no heels. Otherwise, I’d be flat on my face.
Sinking into my seat, I sat back up straight when Alize snapped her fingers at me, giving me the look. I didn’t get the look often because I didn’t often see her anymore. I think it was a relief to us both. She didn’t need to be reminded that she was nearing middle age and I didn’t need to be reminded of my many failures.
Like now.
My senior year in high school, she bought a small apartment for me to live in from the settlement of divorce number three. The day after I turned eighteen, I moved there to be closer to school, and I hadn’t spent a single night under her roof since.
The waiter arrived, sliding our salads in place. I practically dove for my fork and speared a cherry tomato with about ten times more vengeance than the vegetable — sorry, fruit — deserved. I popped it into my mouth and bit down hard, loving that I now had something to do.
Thirty more minutes.
I could survive thirty more minutes.
With an embarrassingly loud, “Au revoir, my darling,” Alize set down the phone. Good heavens. Didn’t she realize Carlos was a Spanish name?
From across the table, she beamed at me. “Success!”
I fake-beamed back. “Yay!”
“Your appointments begin at nine next Saturday morning, and you’ll finish up at three.”
Six hours in a salon? No, thank you.
“The designer I told you about has a plethora of custom designs you can choose from. Stop by her shop tomorrow and select one. I’ll text you her address and let her know to expect you.”
Nope. Not doing that either.
I stuffed a huge fork full of lettuce into my mouth as her thumbs flew over her keyboard. My phone pinged, and she gave me a satisfied look. “There. All settled. How lucky are you to have me as a relative?”
Do you mean mother? I’m a lucky, lucky girl indeed.
I was still chewing, giving me an excuse to not answer when she splayed her red-tipped fingers onto the table. She leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement.
Oh no, what next?
“I have a brilliant idea. I’ll have Winston pick you up, and the two of you can go together! Let me contact him now.”
I stopped chewing as she picked up her phone.
No. No, no, no.
I shook my head fervently and chewed harder, willing the food to disappear from my mouth so I could scream at her to stop. Frantic, I lunged over the table and slammed my hand down over hers. It was the first time I’d touched her in years.
“No! I won’t be in the same room with him let alone in a car with him. Are you out of your mind?”
She looked genuinely surprised. “Why ever not?”
I gripped her hand harder. “Because he tried to rape me,” I hissed. “Remember?”
She yanked her hand away and rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. You young girls are so sensitive nowadays. You think a strong hand from an alpha male who knows what he wants is something to be afraid of? Rape!” She scoffed. “You should be down on your knees thanking the universe that a man like that is interested in someone like you. Did you know that the government is getting ready to pay billions to have access to some of the tech equipment his family owns? And there’s rumors that Winston will be running for governor. Just think, you could be the First Lady someday.”
My heart was beating so hard, I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. The periphery of my vision dimmed, and my fingers tingled, signaling my fight or flight response.