“I’ve never thought about it.”
“Well, think about it. He’s a super hottie. Anyway. I am doing actual work for them. I’ve done book publicity too, like I mentioned. I could do, and don’t take this the wrong way, Juliana, but I could do like an image makeover on you.”
“Image makeover? You think I need an image makeover. Shelly, do you even know what LookBook does? I practically invented image makeovers.”
“Oh, sure! Yeah. I know you did. For clothes. I’m talking more about makeup. Everyone can use a little objective help.” Shelly looks carefully at Juliana and purses her lips. “I mean. You’re like a whole different person, stylewise, than you were in college. Which is a good thing, no offense. And obviously tracks with your business. But have you ever considered eyelash extensions?”
“No.”
“You totally should. Those gorgeous dark eyes of yours... a Medium Glam set would really make them sing.”
Juliana isn’t sure she wants her eyes to sing—but she grants that Shelly’s eyelashes are attention-grabbing. The lashes seem to have their own life, their own range of motion. “Is that what you have?”
“I get the Mega Glam.” Shelly blinks—oh, how she blinks! “The longest ones they offer. That’s how I like to roll. But honestly, you don’t need a lot. You’ve always been Gorgeous with a capitalG.Youjust didn’t know it, back in college. I mean, that Thanksgiving at Mary Ann’s—” Juliana wants to hold up her hand and say,Stop. She doesn’t want to think about that Thanksgiving at Mary Ann’s. She doesn’t want to think about Mary Ann at all.
She’s likeobsessedwith my momis what she thinks about when she thinks about Mary Ann. She remembers Mary Ann saying that, and Shelly laughing.
“And now you do know how gorgeous you are,” continues Shelly. “That’s it. Same face, different attitude. Different bank account, obviously. Maybe... maybe it’s more of a touch-up. A touch-up can be for any reason, you know.” Shelly pauses, tips her cup back toward her lips one more time. There’s no coffee left, so the ice hits against her teeth. “Okay, to be honest, I sort of need the work. I’ve been piecing things together, but that only goes so far. I don’t want to go back to New York. And we’re thirty-two now, and I look at you, and I look at Mary Ann, and you guys are cruising, just like all set, doing your thing, living the dream. And I—well, I guess I’m a little bit stuck.” Shelly’s mouth twists in a sad way.
What makes Juliana say what she says next? Is it again that desire to have the upper hand, to feel like more than that college freshman out in the cold, hands pressed against the metaphorical glass, peering into a place where everyone else is gathered, warm and safe? Or maybe Juliana simply wants a friend, and here is potential friend material, available for purchase. Everything is available for purchase. (Almost everything.)
“Sure, Shelly,” Juliana says. “I’m sure I could use you.”
Shelly’s whole aspect changes. She sits up straighter. Her eyes sparkle. Even her lashes stand at attention. How easy, Juliana thinks, it is to make some people happy. “Really?”
“Really. I could use some extra help, going into a big fall.”
“Big fall?” Shelly squeals.
“I’ll have my assistant contact you, draw up a contract for somefreelance work. There will be a nondisclosure agreement in there, but that’s standard.”
Shelly holds up a hand like a Girl Scout taking a pledge. “Oh, I told you, I’m a vault.”
“Right,” says Juliana. “A vault.” And finally, on that dubious note, Shelly stands, deposits her cup into the recycling bin, bids goodbye to Maggie. Finally, they are leaving. Finally, Juliana can be alone.
As they walk to Shelly’s car, Shelly says, “I’d love to hear more about why you changed your name. Now that I’m on the inside.”
What have I done? thinks Juliana. I’ve put Shelly Salazaron the inside.“I already told you,” she says, as kindly as she can manage. “I just wanted a fresh start, for the business. There’s really nothing more to it than that. People do it all the time.”
“Honestly, it doesn’t even matter. That’s our mantra in PR. All that matters are the parts we show.” (Juliana has worked with a lot of publicists over the years, and she’s never heard this mantra. But okay.) “It’s sort of like when a lawyer for someone accused of murder doesn’t want to know if the person actually committed the murder, because that would take away their ability to do the whole innocent-until-proven-guilty thing.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” says Juliana, and her heart starts to pitter-patter.
“Oh,Iknow that!” Shelly looks closely at Juliana as she unlocks the car. “I mean, I think I do.” She stares so long and so hard over the hood of the car at her, really gazing deep into her eyes, that Juliana starts to feel uneasy.
Several wretched seconds pass, until finally Juliana says, “What?”
Shelly bursts out laughing and says, “Nothing! I’m just playing with you! Oh my gosh, yourface. But nevertheless, the point stands. My job is to worry about your future, not your past. Hop in.”
Juliana doesn’t exactly hop, but she does at least slide into the car. Is she reverting to her old college self, unsteady and bewildered?How can shestop? Shelly takes the back way, avoiding Water Street, and when they reach the intersection of Old Town, Dodge, and Corn Neck she turns, expertly avoiding a couple of cyclists who have drifted too far from the edge of the road. “Good beach day,” Shelly observes. “Still pretty quiet. Wait until you see how absolutelynutsit gets here after July Fourth.” They pass the Yellow Kittens, McAloon’s, the Beachhead, the pavilion at Fred Benson Town Beach.
When Shelly pulls up the long drive to Juliana’s house, Juliana opens the door and gathers her phone, her water bottle, her resolve. Then she sees that Shelly has turned off the ignition and is getting out herself.
“I’ll pop in and see the house.”
“Oh,” says Juliana. “I’d love you to. It’s just that I have a call with L.A.—”
“Don’t worry about it! I can totally entertain myself.”
