Part 1 (1/2)
Fading Starlight.
Kathryn Cushman.
Dedicated to those in the industry who have supported me from the beginning:.
Carrie Padgett, Julie Carobini, Michael Berrier, and Shawn Grady-writer friends since my very first Mount Hermon conference.
James Scott Bell-mentor, teacher, and friend.
Dave Long and the entire Bethany House team-words cannot express what a blessing you have been to me over the past decade.
one.
At this very moment, Lauren Summers's professional future was draped across the bony frame of a high-strung seventeen-year-old. The living room air seemed to crackle along with the television static as the swirl of pink and silver filled the ancient screen. Lauren grabbed the hands on each side of her-her best friend, Chloe, on the right and Chloe's mother, Rhonda, on the left-and they all waited.
The big moment had finally arrived.
”Oh man, she looks amazing.” Chloe jumped up and made for the TV, planting herself only inches from the oversized box. ”This is so incredible. Isn't this incredible?”
Lauren normally would laugh at her best friend's over-the-top enthusiasm-but not this time. Tonight, she waited for reactions along the red carpet.
Rhonda swatted the air. ”Chloe, will you please sit down? The rest of us would like to see this, too.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. ”Mom, no talking. We need to hear this.”
”And see it. Sit down so Lauren can watch her big moment.”
Chloe let out an exaggerated sigh, but she did come back to sit beside Lauren. She retook her hand and squeezed. Hard. ”It's not every day your best friend's dress is on the red carpet at the VMAs.”
”It's not my dress.” Lauren was finding it hard to breathe. There it was, right there for the whole world to see, every camera focused directly on it.
Another dismissive gesture from Chloe. ”'Course it is your dress. We all know who did all the work.”
Marisa Remington was posing for the cameras. She turned sideways and stuck out her left leg, barely managing to push her high-heeled sandal through the demure slit created by the wrap design of the dress.
”She did that on purpose, didn't she? Stuck her leg out to show some skin, trying to be s.e.xy?” Chloe was quickly shushed again by her mother.
Lauren would have nodded an affirmative answer-because the speculation was indeed true-but she didn't want to encourage further conversation. She wanted to hear this. Every word.
Renee Ross, the red carpet host for the evening, approached Marisa, microphone in hand. ”Marisa, your dress is simply darling. Who are you wearing?”
Simply darling. The word choice was not lost on Lauren, nor would it be lost on Marisa. These awards, more than most, were filled with ultra-s.e.xy, barely there dresses worn by megastars who wanted to display all their a.s.sets to the absolute fullest. Marisa had left no doubt to anyone concerned that she did not want to go to this event looking like a little girl. Since Marisa was the up-and-coming star of the newest preteen television phenomenon, Marisa's handlers were obsessive about a squeaky-clean image for their protegee. Lauren understood their concern, given the fall of some of the previous bubblegum queens who had come before. Marisa, however, most certainly did not understand. In fact, she did everything in her power to thwart any and all efforts to make her appear young and innocent.
Her mother had brought her to Deb Couture and demanded a dress that demonstrated a clear awareness of high fas.h.i.+on but also an appropriate sense of modesty. Marisa had other ideas. The ensuing months had been little short of a bloodbath.
Now, Marisa smiled sweetly toward the camera. ”I'm wearing Deb Couture.” She twisted and turned, showing off the dress to full effect. She spun with a little extra vigor in the direction that allowed the wrap to swing slightly open.
”You look absolutely adorable. Are you excited about your first awards show?”
There was no disguising the look of displeasure in Marisa's eyes, in spite of the perfectly white, toothy smile she displayed for the camera. ”I'm thrilled. I'm just so humbled to be here among so many great artists whose work I admire.”
”Yeah, right.” Chloe at least had the wherewithal to whisper under her breath this time.
Marisa moved down the walkway toward the next stop, and Renee Ross looked toward the camera. ”The amazing twin-sister duo of the fas.h.i.+on world strikes gold once again. Elyse and Rose Debowesky demonstrate their amazing versatility, from Rihanna's daring number to Marisa's sweeter-than-sugar pop confection.”
”Woot! Woot! Did you hear that?” Chloe jumped up and pumped her fist. Lauren released the breath that she just now realized she'd been holding. ”Too bad that reporter doesn't know who actually did all the work. The twin sisters are getting credit that should be pointed elsewhere.”
While there was, once again, more than a little truth in what Chloe was saying, the fas.h.i.+on world didn't work that way, and everyone understood that fact. Someone like Lauren had to pay her dues, work hard, and pray that she would be given bigger and better chances along the way. ”Chloe, I did not do everything.”
”Most of it, then. You did the sketch. You did the last-minute details. You are the one who came up with that silver net sash when the powers that be decided the dress was too clingy and s.e.xy. That swath of metallic glimmer around her waist was just the right touch to make sure she still looked innocent, and the netted texture makes it look edgy at the same time.” Chloe looked toward her mother. ”Lauren's been putting in a ma.s.sive amount of hours making sure this dress was perfect, and she was up all night last night working on last-minute details.”
In fact, Lauren had been up most of last night steaming out anything that even looked like it might wrinkle, adding one more sequin here or there, and double-checking the hem st.i.tching. Knowing that Marisa did not like the direction her handlers had chosen, Lauren had gone out of her way to make her as happy as possible.
”Well done, Lauren.” Rhonda clapped her hands. ”That dress is amazing. And to think that my heart-daughter was part of the process.” Rhonda Inglehart was indeed a ”mother-of-the-heart” to Lauren, and Lauren was so thankful to have her.
A commercial for the latest and greatest nationwide calling plan filled the screen, and Chloe said, ”Mom, did Lauren tell you that they've already asked her to get started designing Marisa's dress for the next awards show?”
”No, she did not. Lauren, that is amazing.”
”Actually, I was the only one left in the entire process that Marisa would speak to by the time it was all said and done. They're using me less because of my talent and more because I have managed to avoid offending Marisa.” Lauren shook her head, thinking back to some of the all-out screamfests she'd witnessed between Marisa and her team.
Lauren had managed to stay in Marisa's good graces because she'd truly tried to help the teen star realize her own vision in a way that also stayed true to the aim of her handlers. The little things were what Marisa seemed to appreciate. Lauren could still remember her face when she'd shown her the little hidden pocket inside the sash. It was just the right size for the lucky penny Marisa carried with her everywhere. Marisa had hugged her and said, ”I'm glad someone here actually cares what I think.” That moment was when all the work became worthwhile. All the sleepless nights. All the hours spent trying to get the exact right look to the dress. That little bit of appreciation had made it all bearable.
”Don't be so modest,” Chloe told Lauren. ”Her dress is beautiful, and you know it. That's why you got the next job.”
”Exactly right.” Rhonda stood up and made for the small kitchen in the apartment. ”Time to bring out the banquet?” She pulled open the refrigerator, wafting the smell of hot salsa, quiche lorraine, and meatb.a.l.l.s across the counter and into the tiny living room.
The three women had prepared several platters of finger foods to munch on while they watched the awards show. Lauren and Chloe walked into the kitchen to help put everything out, but Rhonda shooed them away.
”I'll get this. Why don't the two of you do whatever else you need to do to get ready for your guests?” She set a platter on the counter and swatted toward the girls. ”Go on now, I've got it. I'll just put these in the microwave.”
”Guests?” Lauren looked toward Chloe, eyebrows raised.
Chloe tapped her chin and stared just above Lauren's head, as if in deep thought. ”Oh, didn't I mention it to you? Jasper's coming over.” Jasper was Chloe's fiance, and he stopped by Chloe and Lauren's apartment on his way home from work almost every night.
”Do we need to do something to get ready for Jasper?” Lauren looked at Rhonda, waiting for an explanation.
Rhonda's eyes had grown large. She looked toward Chloe with an obvious SOS expression.
Chloe picked up a mini quiche. ”Well, he might have also invited Cody, the new guy at his work, to come join us.” Her voice was as innocent as her actions were guilty. ”Didn't I mention it?”
”No. No, you didn't mention it, as a matter of fact.” Lauren glared at her friend. ”Chloe, you did not just set me up with a blind date again, especially on tonight of all nights, did you? You promised after the last time that you'd stop meddling in my love life . . . remember?”
Chloe shrugged. ”It's not a blind date. We just told him to come over and hang out with us, eat some food, and meet our soon-to-be-famous friend.” There was a knock at the front door, and Chloe moved toward it, still turned toward Lauren. ”The two of you just had to meet. I knew it the first time I saw him.”
”Oh really? And how did you know that?”