gives me an incredulous look. “I wasn’t going to say that. But since you’ve put it out there so elegantly…” He looks me up and down and waggles his eyebrows. I slap at his arm as he ducks playfully.
“Alright already. I’ll do it. But my ass isn’t really that big. It’s my boobs I’m worried about,” I say before I realize who I’m saying it to. Carla walks into the room and giggles as she catches the end of my statement. I glance back at Luca who now has a come-hither look on his face. Holy hell. I probably just made his entire week. His expression changes once his gaze drifts over to where Carla stands. She’s wearing her light brown hair in a high ponytail, and she has on a black tee shirt and jeans. She almost passes as my twin minus the tight ballerina bun, of course. Oh yeah, and my jet black hair paired with my fair skin makes most Goth girls look tanned.
I think of the assistant I met the other day, the Adonis who helped me out with my asthmatic attack. I can’t help but to get a little giddy inside when I think of him being at the showing today. I can’t believe I’m really doing this, my first truly big break.
* * *
Inside La Scala’s dressing room, I prepare to get dressed in the costumes Luca and I prepared for the coordinator of the show. He’s a big-time child prodigy named Alek Dostov. Carla assists with putting my makeup on.
“Boy how I wish I had your eyelashes. There are enough hairs in them for you and me both. You don’t even need mascara,” she says as she carefully moves the brush over my lashes.
I move my head back a bit and narrow my eyes. “Are you coming on to me? Because if you are, then I should probably tell you that I prefer blondes.”
“Signora Angelo,” she gasps, her cheeks turning a fiery red. “I mean, Erin.”
“What? Gentlemen prefer blondes. Why can’t classy women prefer them?” I tease. Her body is so tense that I’m thinking she’ll pass out if I don’t tell her I’m kidding. “Carla. Relax. Like, I’m joking, okay?” A disappointed look crosses her round face. I turn so I can stare directly at her instead of a reflection in the mirror. “What’s wrong? I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t. Not really. It’s just...I. My parents don’t know that I...”
What she’s trying to say hits me like a rock. “Ah, I get it. You were hoping I wasn’t joking because you like women. And you’re afraid your parents will disown you if you tell them. Am I close?”
Sighing, she moves around to face me. “Oh, Erin. I’m so afraid they’ll hate me. In my home, these types of things aren’t taken so lightly. And my girlfriend, Trina grows more impatient with me every day.”
I take her hands in mine. “Tell them, as soon as you can. Your parents will still love you. They won’t risk losing you, even if they get angry for a while, they won’t really turn their backs on you. Family bonds run deep. Disowning a child is like stabbing your own heart. They should be thankful you’re still around.” I’m staring off into space as I think of my parents and especially my mom. Blinking a few times, I refocus on Carla.
“Grazie, Erin.” She takes my hand and shakes it hard. “I’ll tell them soon. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“You do that.” I inhale and we both laugh. “Now back to making me beautiful so I can compete with the giraffes. And hold that chin up, Carla. Remember confidence is the key to all the world’s treasures.”
“Got it.”
I scoff a laugh. “I sound like a mom, don’t I?” She starts fidgeting. “Tell the truth now.”
“Maybe a little bit. You’d make a good mom.”
“Uh-huh, I’m sure I’d make a great mom at my ripe old age of twenty one,” I tease.
* * *
By the time Carla finishes my makeup, my nerves kick in. I have this awful habit of bouncing my left leg up and down when stress gets the best of me. Luca says my fidgety leg issue distracts him in our meetings. Rafe, one of his two older brothers and my former Fashion Design and Apparel instructor, says the same thing. If I’m not bouncing one of my legs, then I’m biting the right side of my lower lip. Today I’m doing all