same for Camilla.
Calla, unlike Flora, forces small talk on Camilla, eventually softening her up. I eavesdrop on their conversation to keep from obsessing over Talent, but I still wonder if I should just call him. I may have snapped the burner phone with his personal number programmed in half, but I memorized it after reading his nightly text messages over and over. And I can always call his office at Ridge & Sons.
Camilla suddenly laughs out loud, and I look over to see her with a head full of foils and a glass of champagne in her hand. She covers her mouth to hide her laugh but drops it to speak animatedly with Calla. I’m envious of the ease in which she talks to other people. The contrast between her true personality and the person treating her stylist like she’s the only other person on the planet is impressive. Unlike myself, who’s totally embodied Cara and lost Lydia somewhere along the way. If Camilla’s going to bend the rules, I hope she never loses the ability to keep the two sides of herself separate.
“Is she your sister?” Flora asks. “You look alike.”
“No,” I answer and don’t elaborate further.
My haircut finishes well before Camilla’s makeover. I wait in the reception area and flip through a magazine I don’t read. The only thing on my mind is Talent Ridge, and the longer this goes on, the more frustrated I become with myself. If I did build the courage to call him, what would I say?
Hey, Talent. Are you up for a relationship with a slut—literally?
If he agreed and we attempt to function as a normal couple, the implications if someone recognizes me and opens their mouth would be disastrous for us both. Or if we continue to casually fuck, when does that end? When he meets someone he loves? Someone he can live normally with? Lydia two months ago was cold enough to accept an arrangement like that, but I don’t think I have the heart now.
What about me? Is Talent willing to entertain the idea of sharing his woman with six different men a week?
How much longer do I have this life in me? I feel it slipping.
“What do you think?” Camilla beams before me, doing a circle to give me a look at her hair from all sides. She runs her fingers through her ends and says, “I don’t think my hair has ever been this soft before. I can’t believe it’s mine.”
The blonde highlights around her face deepened the warmth of her God-given hair color, and the tonal contrast is natural passing and stunning. She looks older, stands taller, and she’s well on her way to bring this city to its knees.
“Looks good,” I say, offering a small smile.
“Good?” She clicks her tongue, tousling her hair at the root. “Cara, I look more like you and less like me. Who knew a little color could change so much? Check out all this volume I have now.”
Yael drives us from the hair salon to Hush for the next part of Camilla’s transformation. Inez isn’t in the office today, but her best esthetician is aware of our visit and is ready for us when we arrive. She leads us to a private room and hands Camilla a plush robe and a pair of slippers.
“Please undress completely and cover yourself in this,” the esthetician requests in a calm manner. The room smells like eucalyptus and is lit in a warm orange glow. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Camilla waits for the esthetician to excuse herself before she asks, “What’s going on?”
“Waxing,” I say. I take a seat in the corner.
She toes her shoes off one at a time. “What? Like, my eyebrows?”
I nod.
Pulling her shirt over her head, she mumbles, “I’ve never had my eyebrows waxed before. I wasn’t aware it’s something I need to be naked for. Must be a rich people thing.”
I fight to keep the grin from my face, choosing to remain indifferent for as long as possible not to tip off the poor girl. She’s never had her brows waxed, and now she’s minutes away from sitting through her first Brazilian.
To be fair, her brows will be waxed after her puss—
“Knock, knock.” The esthetician cracks the door open to peek inside. Once she spots Camilla swathed in the robe, she enters entirely. “We met when you were our receptionist, but in case you forgot, I’m Jessica, the senior esthetician here at Hush. Inez has instructed me to