To keep herself calm, she asked the stylists questions. Kelli had been doing Jo’s makeup for events for more than twenty years. Mai’s mother did Jo’s nails for the first Emmys she ever went to, back when she was fourteen. That was the year Emma was born.
Lunch arrived as Emma’s nails were finishing drying. Mai made her let everyone else get a plate before she was allowed to, just in case.
Emma salivated over the spread while she waited. It was a variety of appetizers. There was toothpick caprese salad and spring rolls and three different types of bruschetta.
“Is that seriously pigs in a blanket?” Kelli said as she loaded her plate. “Jo, are you losing your refined taste?”
“I love pigs in a blanket!” Emma said.
“I believe they’re technically cows in a blanket,” Jo said. “They’re kosher.”
“Sweet!” Emma said, even though she didn’t keep kosher. She would’ve eaten them anyway, but it was nice Jo took it into consideration.
Kelli smirked and Emma shrugged at her. Pigs in a blanket were delicious, kosher or not, refined or not.
When Emma finally was allowed to get her plate, she piled it high, couldn’t say no to anything she saw. There wasn’t enough room. She would have to come back for dessert.
“You know, Ms. Jones,” she said, “not to advocate nepotism or anything—but my sister owns a bakery. Next time you need mini cupcakes.”
“Does she now?” Jo asked. She had zero pigs in a blanket on her plate.
“Yep,” Emma said. “Floured Up, over in WeHo.”
“Talk to craft services tomorrow,” Jo said. “See if we can’t get her some business.”
Emma grinned around the bite of spring roll in her mouth.
* * *
—
Jaden did Emma’s hair after lunch. He talked the whole time. When he broke for a moment to find some product in his bag, Emma glanced over at Jo, who was getting her toenails done.
“And you said I was going to talk their ears off?”
Everyone laughed, except Jaden, who either didn’t hear or at least didn’t seem to mind. Once he’d found the product, he was back to explaining this fight his sister had with his mom earlier in the week.
After hair came makeup. On a normal day, Emma wore a swipe of mascara and lip balm, maybe concealer if she had an especially bad pimple. She was a little afraid of Kelli and her menagerie of liquids and powders and brushes. But Kelli was gentle, and she explained everything she was going to do before she did it, like she could tell Emma needed to know what was going on.
Kelli worked on her eyes, and Emma was surprised at how comfortable she felt, here in a suite with her boss and all these stylists, getting ready for an awards show. She had her inhaler in her purse—and she still wasn’t sure how she was supposed to carry anything to the ceremony—but she wasn’t feeling anxious for the time being, so maybe she wouldn’t even need it.
Kelli finished brushing something onto Emma’s lids. “Open,” she said.
Emma opened her eyes. She opened her eyes and saw Jo across the room, in nothing but Spanx and a bra. Emma immediately closed her eyes again. Kelli cleared her throat.
“Open.”
Emma opened them again, studiously not looking at Jo. All of her comfort disappeared. She was glad for the layers of foundation and whatever else Kelli had already put on her cheeks—maybe the way Emma blushed wasn’t noticeable. Kelli seemed too focused on Emma’s eyes to care much.
It wasn’t that Emma saw anything she shouldn’t. She would’ve seen more had Jo been in a swimsuit. It was just—it was a lot of skin. And it wasn’t that Avery was right, because she wasn’t. Emma did not have a crush on Jo. But Jo was an objectively beautiful woman, all creamy skin and surprisingly long legs for such a petite person. So Emma was a little flustered, was all. She was glad when Kelli told her to close her eyes again.
By the time Kelli finished, Jo was nowhere to be seen. Emma breathed a sigh of relief.
“Your dress is in that bedroom,” Kelli said, gesturing to the door on the right. “I’ll bring in jewelry choices when Jo’s picked hers.”
Emma hadn’t considered jewelry. She didn’t consider it much then, either. She simply went to get dressed. It wasn’t until she was adjusting the zipper and Kelli and Jaden came in with a box that Emma realized just what “jewelry” entailed.
“It’s Martin Katz on loan,” Kelli said.
Emma stared at the open box. She couldn’t do anything else. There must have been tens, maybe hundreds of thousands of dollars of diamonds. Emma almost sat down on the edge of the bed. She was grateful she hadn’t put her heels on yet.
“I . . . ,” she said, and couldn’t come up with anything else.
Jaden reached right into the box of diamonds and picked out a bracelet. “Girl, wear this,” he said. “You don’t need a necklace with that high neckline. Let’s find you some earrings, too.”
Emma looked at the bracelet he held out to her. It was strand after strand of small diamonds. Jaden shook it in her direction, but she just stared, slack jawed.
Kelli took pity on her and reached for the bracelet. “First red-carpet jitters is all,” she said, fastening it around Emma’s wrist.
It wasn’t red-carpet jitters—first or otherwise. This had more to do with the fact that the bracelet probably cost more than her entire wardrobe, all the clothes she owned put together. What if she lost it? What if a diamond fell out? She could be a buffer. She could be good at her job. But she couldn’t possibly wear this.
And then Jaden held up earrings, little dangling teardrops.
“Yes or yes?” he said.
“You guys, I can’t—” Emma started.
“You can,” Kelli said gently. “Put them on.”
“We did not spend hours making you up so you can get scared of some rocks and not look perfect, babe,” Jaden said.
Put that way, it was easier for Emma to wear the earrings. She had to—it would be rude to not look her best after everyone worked hard to make her look good. She focused on that rather than on how much the jewelry must cost.
And she did look good. Once she had the earrings in, she slipped on her heels and checked out the full-length mirror. She had been a little afraid, before this, about fitting in. She had been afraid she’d look obviously out of place with all the glamorous celebrities on the red carpet. But she looked the part, her hair in perfect chestnut waves over one shoulder. The bracelet balanced her look from the opposite wrist, and the earrings sparkled. She looked like she belonged.