Nenita Dietz is holding forth to a group of people, and we wait patiently at the side until she pauses. She looks amazing. She’s in a massive blue fur coat and spiky metallic boots. Her long, dark wavy hair is shining with red and gold highlights under the spotlights, and she must be wearing at least three pairs of false eyelashes. From here she looks like a fairy princess.
“Nenita Dietz.” Aran says pleasantly. “Let me present Becky Brandon.”
“Becky!”
As I take her hand, I feel like I’m meeting the queen. I mean, she is the queen of Hollywood stylists.
“Hello!” I gabble nervously. “I love your work. Actually, my background’s fashion too. I was a personal shopper at Barneys and I’d love to get into styling and I’m such an admirer of yours. Especially of Clover. The clothes were exquisite.”
I’ve mentioned Clover because it’s a very low-budget film that she did a few years ago, which most people haven’t even heard of, and I’m hoping to get some brownie points. But Nenita doesn’t seem interested in my opinion of Clover.
“You.” She points at me with narrowed eyes. “You’re the young woman who saw Lois stealing and told the world.”
“Um, yes. I mean, no. I only told one person … or maybe two.…”
“Lois is a wonderful girl,” she says with emphasis. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Her words feel like a slap, and I start backward.
“I didn’t mean to cause any harm,” I say hastily. “And I honestly didn’t tell the world—”
“You’ll bring bad karma into your life, you realize that?” As she leans forward, I can see that her eyes are all yellowed, and her hands are a lot older than her face. She actually looks quite intimidating.
“Lois’s doing fine, Nenita,” says Aran. “You know that.”
“Bad karma.” She fixes me with her yellow gaze and jabs a finger at me again. “Bad karma into your life.”
I’m trying not to recoil in horror. I feel like she’s putting a curse on me.
“Also, your dress is dated,” she adds disdainfully, and I feel a prickle of outrage on Danny’s behalf. “Nevertheless,” she says, as though bestowing upon me a massive honor, “I can see that you, young woman, are like me. When you really want something, you have to have it.” Her eyes run appraisingly over me again. “You may call me.”
She hands me a silver-edged card with a telephone number on it, and Aran raises his eyebrows.
“Well done, Becky!” he murmurs. “Nice job!”
I stare down at the card, feeling a bit dizzy. I’ve done it. I’ve actually made contact with Nenita Dietz.
The crowd is moving toward the movie theater entrance, surging around us, and a bulky man bumps into me, causing me to drop my bag. As I stand, I see I’ve been split up from Nenita and Aran, and the crush is increasing. Girls in black suits are circulating, telling everyone that the movie will start soon; could they please take their seats. Feeling a bit like a zombie, I follow them in. The foyer is crowded with people and cameras and journalists, and I just let the throng propel me forward. A pleasant young man shows me to a seat in the auditorium, where I find a complimentary bottle of water and some popcorn and a circus-themed goody bag.
I’m here! I’m one of the in crowd! I’m in a top seat at a premiere! I have Nenita Dietz’s card and an invitation to call her!
So … why do I feel so hollow? What’s wrong?
My leather seat seems chilly, and the air-conditioning is making me shiver. As music starts blasting through the speakers, I jump. This should be the biggest treat ever, I keep telling myself. Suze’s voice is ringing in my ears, I hope you have the time of your life, and my own defiant reply, I will.
But the truth is: I’m not. I’m sitting in a cold, dark room full of strangers, about to watch a movie I don’t want to see, without any friends or family to share it with. I’m not famous. Everyone was calling me Betty. I’m not Betty; I’m Becky.
I finger Nenita’s card to reassure myself. But even that feels toxic in my fingers. Do I want to work with that scary witch? Do I want to be her? I feel as though I’ve reached the oasis mirage in the desert. I’m scooping up sand and I’m telling myself it’s fresh and pure water … but it’s not.
I’m breathing harder and harder; my thoughts are whirling round my head; I’m gripping the armrests of my seat until my fingers hurt. And suddenly I’ve had enough. I can’t stay here. I don’t want to be here. I have other, far more important things in my life than a red carpet and celebrities. I have my family and my friends and a problem to sort out and a husband to win back and a best friend to help. That’s what I have. And I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to see that.
I have to leave. Right now.
Muttering apologies to the people around me, I get up and make my way to the side of the auditorium. The seats are full by now and a man in a dinner jacket has just started making a speech at the front, and all the attendants are giving me odd looks … but I don’t care. I need to get out. I need to talk to Suze as soon as I can. She probably hates me. I don’t blame her. I hate me too.
Nenita is still standing in the lobby with Aran and a few others, and as I look at her anew, I feel a sudden revulsion. No, worse: outrage. How dare she try to curse me? How dare she dis Danny? As she’s turning away to enter the auditorium, I tap her on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, Nenita,” I say, my voice shaking slightly, “I’d just like to rebut a couple of things you said. Maybe I shouldn’t have betrayed Lois—but you should know, she isn’t exactly the girl you think she is. Second, I reckon people who try to give other people bad karma get bad karma themselves. Third, my dress is not dated. Danny Kovitz is a very talented designer and all the young fashion bloggers are going wild over it, so maybe if you don’t like it, you’re the one who’s dated.”