“Why not? I can do it faster with help. You’re being awfully difficult about this.”
“I’m not! It’s just that he’s too well known and I’m sure he doesn’t want to be linked to me in the media. Is there anyone else you can get to take you?”
Ridley thought back to the day of the cookout. While it had been overwhelming to meet so many people at once, she was glad she’d gone now.
“Yeah, I think I know a few people who wouldn’t mind helping out.”
* * * * *
“SO, WHAT’S IT like to have a sister? As much as I love Matt, there are just certain things I can’t talk to him about. What’s her name?”
Ridley waited patiently for Mara to finish applying yet another layer of lip gloss before answering. Mara had been more than happy to come over and “glam-ify” her after she’d gotten off work. She’d given the excuse that she was trying out ideas for her next blog column. Mara, it turned out, was a fan of the “Legs” blog, and more than willing to help out.
They’d been immersed in the guest room for the past thirty minutes while Ridley tried on and rejected each of the outfits Mara had brought with her. After Mara had finally just pulled one of the tops over her head forcefully, they were now working on makeup. She’d never known there could be so many pots of crap used just to paint a face.
“It’s, uh, Rina.” She mentally crossed her heart. It wasn’t actually lying, right? Just omitting a letter.
“Is she a model, too?”
“No, she’s my complete opposite, actually. We’ve always been best friends despite being so different. But it’s not easy when your sister is smarter, more confident, and more popular than you are. It's living with constant comparison and feeling like you never measure up.”
“Do you feel like she treats you that way?” Mara asked, her voice raising a couple of octaves. She looked like she was insulted on Ridley’s behalf.
“No, no. She’s my biggest fan. She’s always defended me. The same way Matt has always defended you."
Mara blew out a breath. “He has always defended me. Maybe that's part of the problem. I never stood up for myself, so now he doesn't believe I can stand on my own two feet. I wonder if I've been as much of the problem as he has by leaning on him too much.”
“Matt just needs time. He’s been protecting you from guys your whole life and now he’s supposed to pretend he doesn’t care one of his friends has seen you naked?”
Mara cringed. “Ugh. You’re right. I didn’t really think about how much harder it would be that I was dating someone he knows so well. I’m sure he remembers every bad thing Trent’s ever done and feels like he needs to warn me.”
“Since he can’t, he ends up putting his fist through walls,” Ridley added.
“I asked Jackson to talk to him,” Mara muttered. Then she turned Ridley to the mirror gently. “What do you think?”
Ridley leaned forward and inspected her newly long lashes, flawless skin and rosy slicked lips. “Wow. I look so… shiny.” She couldn’t imagine wearing makeup just to hang around the house but Raina always had. She hadn’t even worn this much makeup when she went to prom.
“Thanks so much for your help, Mara. I’ll give your stuff back as soon as I get more clothes from the house. I just didn’t want to go out looking like a bum. If I do, there’ll be a tabloid picture of me tomorrow claiming I just left rehab.”
Mara rubbed her hands together. “No problem. I had fun. I’m channeling my mom for this project. She placed as high as first runner up in the Miss Columbia pageant back in the seventies. This was before she met my dad and came with him to the U.S. She still talks about how close she was to that damn crown. She was always so disappointed that I didn't want to do the pageant thing.”
Mara picked up a silk headband and then held it against the loose top Ridley was wearing. After staring at it for a minute, she apparently changed her mind and tossed it back on the dressing table.
“I don't blame you. The thought of all those people staring makes me want to throw up.”
“But isn’t that what it’s like to model?”
Oops.
“Um, kind of. Luckily, I don’t do a lot of runway work.”
“I guess it’s different if it’s just you and the photographer, huh? Although, I could get over it if I had legs like yours.”
Ridley raised an eyebrow. “Considering how Trent looks at you, I'd say you're doing just fine. I only wish someone would look at me like that.”
“Well, you can stop wishing. Someone does look at you like that.” Mara stared at her until Ridley laughed.
“Stop. It’s not like that. Jackson and I are, well, we’re nothing actually. He’s amazing and I like him a lot but I don’t have any illusions about where this is going. He doesn’t want a long-term thing and I’m just passing through, anyway.”
“You don’t really think someone followed you here, do you?” Mara asked. Ridley had told her a little about the accident. There was something about Mara that made her extremely easy to talk to. Which was dangerous, in more ways than one.
“I don’t think so. The police are investigating, so the best thing I can do is stay out of the way and try to move on with my life. I’m sure that’s the real reason Jackson asked me to this event. I think he just wanted to take my mind off things.”
“I’m not! It’s just that he’s too well known and I’m sure he doesn’t want to be linked to me in the media. Is there anyone else you can get to take you?”
Ridley thought back to the day of the cookout. While it had been overwhelming to meet so many people at once, she was glad she’d gone now.
“Yeah, I think I know a few people who wouldn’t mind helping out.”
* * * * *
“SO, WHAT’S IT like to have a sister? As much as I love Matt, there are just certain things I can’t talk to him about. What’s her name?”
Ridley waited patiently for Mara to finish applying yet another layer of lip gloss before answering. Mara had been more than happy to come over and “glam-ify” her after she’d gotten off work. She’d given the excuse that she was trying out ideas for her next blog column. Mara, it turned out, was a fan of the “Legs” blog, and more than willing to help out.
They’d been immersed in the guest room for the past thirty minutes while Ridley tried on and rejected each of the outfits Mara had brought with her. After Mara had finally just pulled one of the tops over her head forcefully, they were now working on makeup. She’d never known there could be so many pots of crap used just to paint a face.
“It’s, uh, Rina.” She mentally crossed her heart. It wasn’t actually lying, right? Just omitting a letter.
“Is she a model, too?”
“No, she’s my complete opposite, actually. We’ve always been best friends despite being so different. But it’s not easy when your sister is smarter, more confident, and more popular than you are. It's living with constant comparison and feeling like you never measure up.”
“Do you feel like she treats you that way?” Mara asked, her voice raising a couple of octaves. She looked like she was insulted on Ridley’s behalf.
“No, no. She’s my biggest fan. She’s always defended me. The same way Matt has always defended you."
Mara blew out a breath. “He has always defended me. Maybe that's part of the problem. I never stood up for myself, so now he doesn't believe I can stand on my own two feet. I wonder if I've been as much of the problem as he has by leaning on him too much.”
“Matt just needs time. He’s been protecting you from guys your whole life and now he’s supposed to pretend he doesn’t care one of his friends has seen you naked?”
Mara cringed. “Ugh. You’re right. I didn’t really think about how much harder it would be that I was dating someone he knows so well. I’m sure he remembers every bad thing Trent’s ever done and feels like he needs to warn me.”
“Since he can’t, he ends up putting his fist through walls,” Ridley added.
“I asked Jackson to talk to him,” Mara muttered. Then she turned Ridley to the mirror gently. “What do you think?”
Ridley leaned forward and inspected her newly long lashes, flawless skin and rosy slicked lips. “Wow. I look so… shiny.” She couldn’t imagine wearing makeup just to hang around the house but Raina always had. She hadn’t even worn this much makeup when she went to prom.
“Thanks so much for your help, Mara. I’ll give your stuff back as soon as I get more clothes from the house. I just didn’t want to go out looking like a bum. If I do, there’ll be a tabloid picture of me tomorrow claiming I just left rehab.”
Mara rubbed her hands together. “No problem. I had fun. I’m channeling my mom for this project. She placed as high as first runner up in the Miss Columbia pageant back in the seventies. This was before she met my dad and came with him to the U.S. She still talks about how close she was to that damn crown. She was always so disappointed that I didn't want to do the pageant thing.”
Mara picked up a silk headband and then held it against the loose top Ridley was wearing. After staring at it for a minute, she apparently changed her mind and tossed it back on the dressing table.
“I don't blame you. The thought of all those people staring makes me want to throw up.”
“But isn’t that what it’s like to model?”
Oops.
“Um, kind of. Luckily, I don’t do a lot of runway work.”
“I guess it’s different if it’s just you and the photographer, huh? Although, I could get over it if I had legs like yours.”
Ridley raised an eyebrow. “Considering how Trent looks at you, I'd say you're doing just fine. I only wish someone would look at me like that.”
“Well, you can stop wishing. Someone does look at you like that.” Mara stared at her until Ridley laughed.
“Stop. It’s not like that. Jackson and I are, well, we’re nothing actually. He’s amazing and I like him a lot but I don’t have any illusions about where this is going. He doesn’t want a long-term thing and I’m just passing through, anyway.”
“You don’t really think someone followed you here, do you?” Mara asked. Ridley had told her a little about the accident. There was something about Mara that made her extremely easy to talk to. Which was dangerous, in more ways than one.
“I don’t think so. The police are investigating, so the best thing I can do is stay out of the way and try to move on with my life. I’m sure that’s the real reason Jackson asked me to this event. I think he just wanted to take my mind off things.”
