“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“The pleasure’s all mine. You look pretty. Now could you turn around for me?”
I turn, feeling self-conscious and slightly stupid. Is she judging me? Probably. Now that I think about it, I have a mustard stain on the butt of my jeans. Some jerk spilled a huge glop of mustard on a yellow chair at a restaurant, and I wasn’t able to get all of it out.
“I presume you need the works?” Josephine says once I’m facing her again.
“The works” sounds like a scary verdict. Guess my having shaved this morning didn’t earn me any bonus points.
“Yes,” Kim says. “She does.”
“At least you called me early enough. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to help. You also need hair and makeup. Not sure if we can fit in a facial, but your skin’s gorgeous. Exfoliate regularly?”
“Yes,” I say with a smile, relieved that glamorous Josephine approves of something.
“Well, it shows. Okay, let’s get going. And Nate’s card?”
“Yes?”
She opens her palm.
I hesitate, unsure if she’s asking me to hand it over. He never said I could just give it away to somebody.
“Sweetie, I can’t make you shine if I don’t have the money. I promise I won’t lead you astray. After all, it’s my reputation on the line.”
I inhale deeply. I don’t have much time left. And I have to trust her to make me over before it’s too late. “Okay.” I give her the card.
Her fingers curl around it, the nails glittering. Somehow the sight doesn’t reassure me at all.
Chapter Eight
Evie
I should’ve known it wasn’t going to be a normal kind of experience, like where you and your friends go to a store, try on prom dresses, giggle and share opinions. Not that I’d know anything about that, since I never got to go. My mom couldn’t afford to buy me a dress—or anything else that a prom entailed—and I told her I couldn’t go because I hurt my ankle and wouldn’t be able to dance anyway. It was a ridiculous lie, but she didn’t probe too much, probably because she knew why I was doing it.
Josephine doesn’t give me time to change, saying it doesn’t matter what I wear. I shoot a pleading look in Kim’s direction, but she says she has to work because Salazar wants he
r to plan the most perfect getaway for his wife, no expense spared, and he’s already rejected four of Kim’s proposals.
So it’s just me and Josephine in the Lexus as she takes me to a huge black boxlike structure. I don’t think it’s a warehouse, but it certainly doesn’t look like your regular store either. It’s a good thing Josephine is driving, because I’m pretty sure I would’ve gone right past it.
“Let’s go,” she says, stepping out of the car.
I follow, not really having much choice. I tell myself the place doesn’t look like a place you’d dump bodies. Which isn’t that reassuring anyway.
The door opens, and we step into a brightly colored interior. Lightly veined marble covers the floor, and the pale cream walls have recessed nooks with green plants.
A tall, slim Asian woman comes out. She’s dressed to the nines, just like Josephine. Maybe there’s a secret tribe of women who spend all day looking perfect.
Unlike Josephine, the woman has her hair cut diagonally, the slanted edge razor straight. She hugs Josephine and they exchange air kisses.
“What a surprise. I thought you weren’t coming today.”
“Wasn’t on my schedule,” Josephine says. “But there’s an emergency.”
The woman pulls back. “Ah. So this is…?”
“The emergency,” I say, as though it isn’t totally obvious. “I’m the emergency.”