Beautiful People | wlw

Twenty-one: Venice

Vera drank half her cup of smooth Italian espresso in one gulp, scalding her throat, then leaned back in the rickety café chair with a groan. "It's too early to be alive."

"Welcome to Venice, babe. No beauty rest for the wicked." Jay sipped his espresso demurely. His big brown eyes were far too bright and alert for so early in the day. He'd even found time to do his makeup, a dramatic swoop of shiny gold eyeliner. It was downright rude of him to look so awake when Vera still felt thick with jetlag.

One more swallow finished the whole of her small cup. "This is fabulous coffee, but I'm offended by the size of it. I could really use a jug."

"When in Rome."

"Did the Romans die of caffeine withdrawal?"

Jay laughed soft as the morning sunlight warming the cobbles beneath their feet.

"Do you ever stop complaining?" Lily muttered from Jay's other side.

Across the narrow canal, a thin woman wearing a long floral coat dress and a spangled yellow headscarf walked briskly at the head of a small entourage. Vera lowered her hexagonal sunglasses to squint over the gold rims. "Am I seeing things, or is that Fatima Bhatia?"

Jay stretched his legs out under the tiny café table, doing a much better job than she of pretending he wasn't staring after the famous designer. "Sure is."

"Oh my god!" Vera craned her neck. "Did she come out of that hotel? Is she staying there? How creepy would it be if I just swam across the canal right now to talk to her?"

"Beyond creepy. I would literally never want to be seen with you again."

Fatima Bhatia rounded the corner and slipped out of sight into a shadowed street. Sighing, Vera dropped her chin into her hand. "I still can't believe she never called me back. I tried so hard."

"Yes, I know, you've been moaning about it for a month."

"I have not been moaning. I just don't understand why she didn't want to dress Carmen or Marina or Andre for the Venice Film Festival."

"She probably thought you were going to annoy her by throwing your designs at her like all the other wannabe designers who harrass her."

"I would not have done that," Vera said, even though she definitely would have done that. After all, this stylist business was only supposed to be a stepping stone to her end game – her own fashion line. Even if she hadn't touched a design for months. In fact, the last time she'd sketched an idea was right after moving in with Sharise. Her creative well was dry as under-moisturized skin. She frowned. "What is she doing here? Do you think she's working?"

"Schmoozing at the parties, probably." Jay shrugged, gold tassels on his sleeves glittering as they caught the light. Vera had picked that shirt for him. "I bet she's going to that yacht party Andre's producer is throwing tonight. Everyone who's anyone will be there."

"God, tell Carmen that, please. Somehow we can't convince her to go."

"Yeah, somehow. A certain blonde-haired somehow who also happens to be the only reason you care if she goes."

Vera huffed and rolled her eyes. "This is literally the party of the season. I still can't believe Carmen doesn't want to go just because Marina will be there."

"Isn't that the whole point of your matchmaking scheme? To make all this nonsense go away?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Jay laughed. "Oh, I forgot. The real point is so that you can tell everyone you work with all the biggest Hollywood stars and don't have to sneak around anymore."