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Anger pushed through her shaky words like she was trying to decide whether to throw the phone down or pound it against the dashboard until it shattered. “Matronly…ma-tron-ly…I don’t even know what that means in this context. Huh, I could be a mom? I am so far from that. So, who got it? Oh, shit, Vee’s text, it was Shaina? So basically, they went with the body without an ounce of fat…but he thought I was the best actress, but then, I look like a mom…” Her voice cracked.
She held the phone, shifting in her seat again. “Yes, I know, Ana, please, no pep talks. I’ve just been told I look too old for a part, too mature, too developed…matronly. Ugh, I fucking do not look matronly. Boobs do not equal matronly. I know, I know…”
I looked over just as she wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, her throat moving like she was trying to prevent any more tears from escaping.
“Yes, we can talk about that job tomorrow. Do they have my information? I mean, can you tell them I have tits?” she spat out. “I know,” she said, clicking off the call before tossing her phone on top of her purse.
Holy shit, what in the hell do I say, how the hell do I negotiate this? I’d been with other models when something didn’t come through, I’d heard Jessica Ortiz take a rejection call, but what had just been projected onto her would cut deep, and I knew it. Fuck. I was sitting here, not knowing how to feel, waffling between; thank God she didn’t get it, and I want to go beat the fuck out of Bernardo Cappuccino or whoever said those things about her. “Ummm…hey, there’s the store, I…”
“I’m not hungry. Eating is the last thing I should be doing. I just spent the weekend eating and drinking. Isn’t that enough?” she said, her jaw quivering. “Don’t you understand? You heard everything.”
“Hey, you have to eat something. I can make a salad or get some fruit,” I said, turning the SUV into the parking lot.
“No, didn’t you hear all that? It’s code for: she’s too big, her shoulders are too broad, her tits aren’t cute and perky. Did you get a load of those childbearing hips? Matronly, that’s the word they used, matronly,” she hissed, her voice oozing with venom.
I parked and turned off the SUV. “No, Rae-kale, you’re perfect. Please don’t let all of that bullshit…”
She snapped her head toward me. “Don’t let it what? Eat at me? Mess with my head?” She clicked open her seatbelt, then said, “Sure, sure, I’ll do what I’ve been doing for years, block men’s bullshit assessments of my body out, just tell myself it doesn’t matter, but, in this case, it does. Because I don’t look like some prepubescent woman-child, I’m not getting the part. But they’ll be sure to call me when they need some buxom mom. Hey, maybe I can get a role as a pregnant wife. What the hell?”
God, you would be beautiful pregnant shot into my brain, but I had the good sense to keep my mouth snapped shut as she unraveled in front of me.
Tears were brimming in her eyes as she continued, “So I guess my days of sucking up to men aren’t over. I didn’t take my top off at the audition, so I wonder, but no, they wouldn’t have wanted to see my matronly tits.”
“Babe…” I started slowly, taking in her statement. It pissed me off that they’d even suggested she take her top off. Fucking Hollywood.
Her finger jabbed the air. “Are you happy, are you? Happy I didn’t get it? Now you don’t have to think about me and Bernardo. Well, I guess you didn’t have to worry about that anyway, he likes them younger looking than me, like high school girls, not…” She waved her hand over her body, her eyebrows narrowing as if figuring something out. “But you knew that, right?”
“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never even had a conversation with the guy.”
“Hey, Jessica is super thin, she’s…” Water spilled from her eyes. “Were you always trying to fatten her up, too? Maybe that’s why…”
I threw my hand up and said, “Stop, stop fucking talking, don’t do this…don’t get personal…don’t do it. It’s not fair, this isn’t about me. Don’t make this about us, it’s about…”
“What? What is it about?” She screamed so loudly that I thought I felt the car shudder.
No way was I falling for this bait; she was hurting, and I wasn’t going to be dragged into a bullshit fight with no chance of resolution, only the potential to hurt each other. I turned the car back on, found the country station, then turned to her. “Rae-kale, I’m going to grab a few groceries. I’ll be right back,” I said, jumping out without giving her a chance to reply. I heard a sob as the door shut behind me. I hated this inconsolable shit, but what could I say? Nothing, I could say nothing. Walking around the car, I saw a few teenage girls staring at me. One yelled, “It’s him, and he’s with her.”
Another said, “He’s mad. Don’t be mad, Jake Skyler, we love you.”
I faked a smile, picking up my pace to get inside the store, grab a few things, and get out of there.
I rushed through the store, replaying the phone call in my head, imagining what Ana must have been saying on the other end and how shitty this whole situation felt. My dad was a master at navigating this kind of stuff with my mom, my sisters—hell, even with me. When something felt like the end of the world and I would lose my temper, he had this way of talking to me so that I didn’t feel patronized, only comforted. I didn’t have that gift, but I racked my brain thinking about what I could say. There was no way for me to frame this in a way that would make her see things differently. I knew there was one person she’d listen to; I wanted it to be me, but that day had not yet come, so I pulled out my phone while I pushed the cart with one hand.
Jake: Matt, we are almost back at my place. I'm hoping you can call Rakell in about thirty minutes. She needs to talk to you. Thank you…Send
Chapter Twenty-One
The tears continued to bubble up, spilling down her cheeks faster than she could angrily wipe them away; she couldn’t stop them. She wanted to hit something, to scream at someone.
Jake opened the back of the SUV and placed two bags of groceries on the floor without glancing her way, then jumped into the front seat. She watched him purposely avoiding her stare as he started the car. His chest puffed out, then deflated with a sigh. He had to be relieved; of course, he was. His ex-girlfriend had publicly run off with Bernardo Cappuccino, which had to have been demoralizing. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you happy I didn’t get it?” She sniffed, her eyes boring into him. “I mean, there has to be a sense of relief.” Her voice was steady but edging with challenge.
He pulled onto the street, focusing his eyes on the road, his jaw tight, lips pursed like he was contemplating an answer.
It gnawed at her that her boyfriend was probably grateful—boyfriend—the relationship I’d just declared to the world… “Oh shit,” she whispered to herself, taking out her phone.
Rakell: (to Ana) Do you think my Jake post on Instagram hurt me?…Send
As she pushed send, she focused her eyes on Jake. Hadn’t he hoped she wouldn’t get this, but then, he hadn’t said anything; he’d swallowed his thoughts so you wouldn’t be preoccupied with it.
