“No, no, no. We already talked about this. Kev and Tate will be there. We want people to talk. Young, sexy, carefree is what we’re going for. You need to bring someone that will get people talking. We want more spotlight, not less.”
“Fine.” I tried not to growl the word.
“Do you want me to call Jenny? Ask which of her firm’s clients are looking for buzz?”
“No. Don’t do that.”
She paused, clearly considering my options. To my horror, she suggested, “Even if you go as friends with Tom, people will take notice.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Fine.” She sounded disappointed. “But we’re running out of time.”
A knock sounded on the door to the trailer, and I sat upright from my bunk. “Listen, I’m going to let you go. I just wanted to make sure you got the draft.”
“Okay. No problem,” my sister said, sounding distracted. “Talk to you later. And reconsider that spread in Playboy magazine.”
I bit my tongue, not wanting to argue with Marta. I’d already turned down that request six times. I didn’t want to have to defend my position. Again.
I moved to the door, which Dave had cracked, and signed off with a chipper, “Okay, goodbye.”
Dave waited until I’d set down my phone before saying, “It’s Susie, here to do your makeup.”
“Okay, sounds good.” I yawned, stretching as I stepped back to give Susie room to pass. I motioned to the coffee machine. “There’s coffee if you need some, but that’s the last of it.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Sienna, babe, it’s almost 4:00 p.m. If I drink that stuff I’ll be up all night.”
I sat in my chair and yawned again while she set to work pinning up my hair and applying the undercoat. My mind began to wander—predictably to Jethro—and the now constant sad ache in my chest had me sighing.
“Why the heavy breathing?” Susie frowned at me, her tone and expression full of concern.
“Just tired.” I gave her a smile meant to reassure.
She did not look reassured. We weren’t precisely friends, but we were friendly co-workers. It’s hard to truly be friends with someone when you pay that person’s salary.
Lifting her impeccably manicured and triply pierced left eyebrow, she ceased applying my makeup and demanded, “What’s going on with you?
“What?”
“How long have we been doing this? Four years now?”
“Almost five.”
“You’re depressed,” she accused, her tone holding no room for argument. “You haven’t asked me if I’m moist for the last ten days. For the record, I was once. But you never asked. What’s going on? And don’t tell me, ‘Nothing.’”
I held her gaze, not wanting to explain my funk or relinquish my shoebox of sadness. If I explained my funk, then I might leave my funk. I wasn’t ready to leave this funk; I wanted to wrap myself in its funkiness forever.
“Either you tell me what’s up or I’ll make you look like Bette Davis.”
And she would, too.
“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you what happened.” I gathered a breath for courage. “I met—”
“A man,” she finished. “It’s always a man. Tell me about him.”
So I did. I spent the next several minutes giving her the whole story, which ended up being a surprisingly short story. While recounting the details I realized Jethro and I hadn’t spent much time together, not enough time to warrant how I felt.
“He didn’t want to see you again after finding out who you were? Do you think it’s because you lied at first?” Of course her questions would be blunt and to the point.
“I didn’t precisely lie.”
She looked unimpressed. “Honey, he thought your name was Sarah for more than a week.”
“Anyway,” I said, knowing she was right about my dishonesty. But there was nothing I could do about it now. “I don’t think it was my lie of omission, not really. I think he saw firsthand what life would be like if he dated me, and it scared his cute beard off, and I don’t really blame him. I think he came to the conclusion I wasn’t worth the effort, and that was that.”
Susie flattened her lips, clearly thinking this over, then shook her head. “Nah. I don’t think so.”
“Well then what could it be?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think that’s it. I doubt he considered you not worth the effort. He’d have to be an idiot to think that, and this guy doesn’t sound like an idiot.”
I slumped in my chair, staring forward. She was right. Jethro wasn’t an idiot.