Bellamy's Redemption

“Hi,” I said. Nickie ignored her.

“I’m Marissa,” said a short brunette with big horse teeth. “I’m from Miami.” She made herself at home in the shower, emerging moments later in a sparkly salmon colored gown.

“Are you one of us?” asked Nickie.

“What do you mean?” asked Marissa.

“Are you going to be on the show?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. You don’t look like you belong here. What are you, four eleven?”

“No. I’m five feet tall. I belong here as much as any of the rest of you.” She evaluated herself in the mirror, looking worried.

Nickie shook her head and applied another coat of mascara.

“I think you look nice,” I said to Marissa, feeling awful for her.

“Ladies, the limo will be arriving to take you to meet Bellamy in twenty minutes. Please get into your evening gowns if you haven’t already,” yelled a voice from the master suite.

“Can I have a little privacy?” asked Amy.

“There is no privacy here,” said Nickie. As if to prove her point, she stripped down to just a thong and began thumbing through her evening gowns.

I had been planning to wear my hair up, but I noticed that all the other girls were wearing their hair down in big curls or loose, wavy layers. I followed their lead as best I could in the short amount of time I had; I scrunched my hair with some borrowed mousse, trying to emulate the other women’s beachy waves. I didn’t have a curling iron with me, which, apparently, was how these styles were created. Honestly, I didn’t even know people still used curling irons. They made me think of high school. Giving up on my hair, I put on some tall, strappy sandals and clipped a lizard shaped doodad to my ear. Unsure what else to do, I hauled all my stuff back out of the bathroom and sat down beside the food, nibbling on some cheese cubes and strawberries.

Caj had gotten ready in the master suite while we were all piled on top of one another in the bathroom. Her gown was gold and white and very tight. He shoes were silver, but somehow they worked with the dress. Then, as she crossed an ankle over the other, I noticed the soles had a cool, silver and gold Egyptian pattern on them, further linking them subtly to her dress. How stylish and clever of her. She wore just one bracelet on her upper arm. Her dark brown hair was flat ironed perfectly straight. Though her eyes were heavily lined, she had on barely any other makeup. I casually blotted my thick lipstick onto a cocktail napkin, trying to fight the feelings of inferiority.

One by one the other women joined us in the master suite. First Marissa, a stubby pink sausage. Then Amy, dazzling in a lime green gown. Finally Nickie emerged, looking positively stunning in an emerald green strapless gown. If she could keep her mouth shut, she might win the whole thing.

“You all look fannn-tastic,” said the woman who had reattached my mic.

“Are you ready to meet the man of the hour?” Five glasses of champagne appeared, one for each of us. There was clinking and giggles and for a brief moment I felt a strange bond with these four women. The next thing I knew, we were back outside, heels clicking on flagstone pavers, our arms getting goosebumpy from the cool night air and anticipation. I looked down below me at Los Angeles, realizing this was really, really happening. We all got back in the limo, and we were on our way.

Chapter 12

“Oh my God! There he is,” squealed Marissa.

We hadn’t driven far, but we were already at Bellamy’s mansion. Caj clutched at my arm, her eyes wide. “I’m so incredibly excited,” she whispered. I tried to catch a glimpse out the window, but all the other girls were blocking me. The limo was stopping. I wasn’t ready for this at all. I was so nervous I could barely catch my breath. Noooo, said the voice in my head.

The door opened and Marissa was the first one out. We watched her sidle up to Bellamy, with a timid yet saucy little swagger.

“Awkward,” whispered Caj.

“There he is,” said Amy. Finally, I was able to really see him. Something in my gut twisted a little, perhaps it was all those Bloody Marys, but Bellamy looked rather… ordinary. And short. Honestly, Marissa didn’t seem that much shorter than him! She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a big hug, then handed him something.

“What is she saying?” asked Caj.

“What is she giving him?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Amy.

“Did any of you bring him anything?” asked Caj.

Before anyone could answer, the limo driver opened the door again and Nickie exited.

“Do you think she can behave herself?” I asked.