“Have you talked with your father?” I asked.
“Yes, I called him yesterday. And he told me that she’s not his problem anymore. He suggested that I find a way to get her into rehab. I reminded him that I’m a fourteen-year-old girl, not a thirty-year-old woman—and that I don’t even know how to go about getting her into rehab, if she’d even be willing to go. What I do know is that my mother is motivated by money. So? I asked my father if he’d wave a few million dollars in front of her face to get her into rehab. Maybe five million up front, then five million once she’d successfully cleaned her ass up. And do you know what he said to me?”
“I don’t think I want to know . . .”
“You don’t, because all he did was laugh. Ten million dollars is nothing to my father, Julia, even if it could mean saving my mother’s life. When I told him that things were getting worse with her, I thought at the very least he’d help me help her if I reached out to him, but no fucking way. He said that he’d ‘never give that bitch another dime,’ and that she could go to hell as far as he was concerned. Then he said that I’d always been a resourceful kind of girl, and that he believed in me to figure all of this out on my own. But I can’t, Julia. So, I’m calling you to see if you have any ideas.”
“Do you have any family in the city?” I asked.
“Yes. My mother’s sister, Pauline, lives here.”
“Are they close?”
“They used to be, but when my mother turned into a drunk and started pushing everyone close to her out of her life, they pretty much lost touch.”
“Does she love your mother?”
“They used to be best friends!”
“Here’s what I know about families, Pepper,” I said. “Sometimes, if there is a dire situation at hand, they will step up their game because of the relationship they once had with a family member. Does Pauline know how bad things have gotten with your mother?”
“It’s been so long since they’ve talked, she doesn’t know that it’s gotten this bad, that’s for sure.”
“Then reach out to her. Call her now and ask her to come over as soon as possible. Talk with her first, let her know what she’s about to walk into, and then tell her why you’re afraid for your mother, especially since starting today, you’ll be out of the apartment for the next three months.”
“See?” Pepper said. “I never even thought of that. That’s why I called you—thank you.”
“I think your aunt needs to see your mother at her worst, Pepper. Is your mother still in the bathroom?”
“Yeah, she’s still sleeping it off. I couldn’t get her up this morning.”
“Call Pauline now, tell her everything, and allow her to see Savannah as she is now. Do not touch your mother, even if she is lying in her own vomit. I know that sounds cruel, but I think that’s your best bet when it comes to Pauline. She needs to see her sister for herself so she’ll agree to intervene while you’re away.”
“I’ll do that,” Pepper said with a tremor in her voice. “Thank you, Julia.”
“Now, listen to me,” I said. “Are you packed? You need to be at the house by noon.”
“I’m packed, but I can’t leave my mother this way.”
“Do you need my help?”
“With moving?”
“With anything.”
“Let me call my aunt,” she said. “If she agrees to come over, I’ll text you. And then maybe you can come here by ten or so, and help me get my head on straight while we drive over to the house. Because, Julia, despite all of this bullshit with my mother, I need to bring my A game when I walk through those doors, because those bitches are going to be waiting for me.”
“I’ll be waiting for your text,” I said to her. “I’ll jump into the shower now. In the meantime, call Pauline, get her over there, and we’ll see where this leads.”
“OK,” she said. “I’ll text you as soon as I know whether she’s coming over. But what if she doesn’t?”
“Text me either way. We’ll figure this out, Pepper. Even if I need to speak to your mother or Pauline myself.”
I SHOT OUT OF BED.
I showered, got dressed, and pulled myself together. After that, I had a cup of coffee, and then I spoke on the phone with Harper, who gave me some helpful insights into how to deal with Savannah should I need to confront her on Pepper’s behalf.
I hadn’t signed up for any of this, but Harper and I both agreed that if Pepper needed me right now, I had to be there for her.
Which I wanted to be, because I felt for that girl.
From what I could tell, Pepper’s hostility and aggression was born out of suffering through the throes of her parents’ horrific divorce. It likely also was due to the lack of love they had showed her throughout those difficult years.
When Pepper and I talked this morning, I could hear beneath the steel in her voice that at her core, she was a child who was hurt and afraid, and not simply the spoiled, bitter beauty I’d first come to know.
She was only fourteen years old, and I knew that her competitiveness was her trying to make a name for herself to overcompensate for being dealt a raw hand when it came to her screwed-up parents.
No amount of money or fame would ever mend Pepper’s broken heart, and even though I knew for a fact that she wanted the former more than the latter, I also had to wonder how long it would take for her to understand that neither money nor fame would ever make her feel fulfilled as a human being. Because when it comes to fame and fortune? In this industry, those are never the answers to anything but paying your rent.
I was just beginning my second cup of coffee when my phone dinged. I reached for it on the kitchen counter, saw that it was a text from Pepper, and read it with bated breath.
Pepper: My aunt came right away, and she’s here now.
Me: Are you OK?
Pepper: I’ve been better. But my mother is off the bathroom floor, she’s in her bed, and my aunt is letting her have it.
Me: Does your aunt understand the gravity of the situation?
Pepper: Julia, she saw my mother curled up on the bathroom floor, so if that doesn’t tell her everything she needs to know, bitch is blind.
Me: How can I help?
Pepper: My aunt promised me that she’d find a way to take care of my mother while I’m gone. I believe her, because that’s just who she is. She’s a good person.
Me: What do you need from me now?
Pepper: Can you come here at eleven? Obvi, our driver is prepared to get me to the house at noon. But as I said earlier, I need to be on point when I step foot into that house, because those bitches are going to be eager to slay me. That’s not going to happen. And since you appear to be sane, I need to be around sane people right now. Catch my drift?
Me: Got it. I’ll be there at eleven.
Pepper: Loves it. And thank you, Julia. I really mean that. Yes, your makeup skills are shit, but since your heart is clearly made of gold, I’m going to do you a solid and give you a free makeover on the drive over. So wash your face and make sure that you have nothing on it when you arrive, because Pepper’s about to have at it!
Me: OMG!
Pepper: You should be excited, because I’m going to turn you into a siren! Because after this morning? You and I both need to own today. See you soon, lovecat.
And then she was gone.
I checked my watch and saw that eleven o’clock was only an hour away—and I’d already applied a full face of makeup for the day. But since I believed in Pepper’s skills when it came to applying makeup, I went into my master bathroom, washed the makeup off my face, then I looked up at my reflection in horror after everything had been scrubbed off. I mean, I’d applied my makeup to be “Hunter ready.” But now that Pepper was going to have at me, I couldn’t help but be concerned.
What in the hell is she going to turn me into? I thought.
A siren . . .
What does that even mean? A hooker?
It wasn’t long before I knew .
. .
“GIRL, YOU ARE SO PALE, you look like a goddamned snowflake,” Pepper said when she exited the apartment she shared with her mother. “I mean, are you even eating properly? Taking vitamins? You should be doing both, because you look as if you’re about to faint.”
“You told me to wash my face,” I said as I stepped out of the taxi and moved toward her on the sidewalk. As she came up to me, I hugged her.
“I did, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to see a ghost,” she said with a smile as she kissed me on both cheeks. “But just like you had my back this morning, I totes got your back when it comes to beating your mug. You’re pale because you’re a blonde. But just you wait, because you don’t even know what I can do for you!”
“How are you?” I asked her in a low voice, as her massive suite of Louis Vuitton luggage was wheeled from the building and lifted into the trunk of the stretch limousine parked at the curbside.
“Ready to get the hell out of here,” she said. “That’s for fucking sure.”
“Pauline is still with your mother?”
“She is, but I don’t want to get into that. In fact, I can’t even talk about it after this morning, because things are getting worse—and all of it just worries and upsets me. I’m sorry that I pulled you into my sorry mess of a life this morning, Julia, but my aunt is one of the good ones, and I know that while I’m gone, she’ll see to my mother. So? Because of that? Can we please just move forward?”
“Of course we can,” I said. “But even so, if you need me, I’m here for you.”
“Thank you. Now, get in the damned car,” she said in a voice straining to sound light. “Because I need to start baking your face sooner rather than later. You’re a pretty girl, Julia, but I’m about to turn you into a knockout. And the more time I have to work on that mug of yours? The better.”
“Getting in the car,” I said.
“Right behind you, girl.”
When we were in the back of the limousine, I saw at once that Pepper wasn’t joking when it came to going all in with my makeup. She pulled her Prada handbag off her shoulder and opened it wide so I could see its contents—and everything in it was product.
“My God,” I said as the limousine pulled into traffic. “You’re like a personal Sephora.”
“I mean, obvi . . .” she said with a flip of her hair.
“You need all of that to put on your face?”
“Is that even a question?”
“But your face looks so natural,” I said.
“I’m totes down with that compliment,” she said.
“Everything in your bag holds secrets my mother never told me,” I said.
“As if that’s an excuse,” she said with a smirk. “I mean, come on, Julia! You’ve lived in the city for years—and you work at CAA for God’s sake. How in the hell have you missed the cosmetic gene?”
“I don’t know?” I said with a shrug. “I thought I was doing OK.”
“Well, you weren’t. But that’s fine! As millions have learned from my makeup tutorials on YouTube, you are about to be enlightened! Because this bitch,” she said as she tapped a finger against her chest. “She’s spilling the tea today. You’re about to get a master class in how to apply makeup.”
“Please, enlighten me,” I said. “What have I been doing wrong?”
“Just about everything? So, before I start, I need to know the mood you want to work today. Professional? Professional with a bit of sex tossed in? The siren I talked about earlier? Or full-on slut?”
“I think we both know that the latter is out. But professional with a bit of sex tossed in? I could get into that, especially since the show you’re about to be on kind of represents that.”
“Done,” she said as she dug into her bag. “Let’s do this shit. I’ll do a fresh face, a smoky eye, a pouty lip, and highlights, sheen, and glamour galore!”
“How do you even know how to do any of those things at your age?”
“I don’t know—maybe because I started doing this shit when I was, like, nine? When my parents’ marriage started to go to shit, I pretty much just stayed in my bedroom and learned how to do makeup. It was my way of escaping their escalating, ugly drama.”
Did she want me to engage her when it came to that? On the sidewalk, she’d pretty much said the opposite. So, I simply offered my face to her. “Have at it, my golden child.”
“Julia, you slay me.”
“Sorry?”
“Let’s just say that I dig your vibe,” she said. “You’re funny—and, oh honey, do I need funny in my life right now.”
“Pepper, if you need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. I’m happy to listen to anything that’s concerning you.”
“What I need to talk about is making you look gorge, and maybe enjoying some dishy girl talk so that my head is in the right space before we arrive. I need to be at my best before I walk through those doors, Julia. We both know that. So, when it comes to doing your makeup? That’s kind of like meditation to me. And, my God! How it will help me forget my shitty morning with my mother. So! Chin up, because I’m about to turn you into a woman that—oh, I don’t know—Hunter will never forget.”
Stunned, I just looked at her.
“Sorry?” I said to her.
“Oh, girl, please. Hunter is totally hot, and we both know it. And by the way, just so you know? You were far from subtle when you checked out that massive package of his the day we first met. Not that I can blame you, because that man is seriously hung. I mean, seeing that monster of his swinging this way and that in those tight Levis also pretty much did me in.”
“Pepper,” I said. “Hunter and I are just two professionals working hard to make sure you join the Teens seamlessly. That’s all there is to it. Sure, he’s a good-looking man, but men like him are a dime a dozen when it comes to this city.”
She sprayed my face with some sort of tonic before she started to dab foundation on my cheeks, forehead, and neck with a rounded sponge.
“If that’s the case, then why did you go out on a date with him last night?”
“Excuse me . . . ?”
“Julia, come on! I’m a pop culture junkie. Before the drama with my mama this morning, I saw both of you on some of my favorite blogs, posing for the paps at this big shindig held for his father last night.” She clocked me with a glance—and then she served me with a knowing wink. “And good on you, cookie, because I have mad respect for you if you hooked that particular python.”
“It’s not like that,” I said.
“Pepper might be thinking otherwise . . .” she singsonged.
“No, you need to know why I even agreed to be there for him last night.”
“Julia, I could give a shit about your private life, OK? All I’m saying is that if you managed to catch his eye with your shameful makeup and wearing a two-year-old gown? Brava, honey! But now, if you’ll allow me to teach you the ways of makeup magic? Shit, I’ll have you two married within a month. Or preggers with his baby by the end of the year. I guess we’ll have to wait and see about that. Now, shut your mouth tight, don’t say another word, and lift your head for me, because before we know it, we’ll be pulling up to the house, and this bitch needs to blend your makeup so you don’t look like a damned fool.”
Incredulous, and not wanting to say another word to her about my time with Hunter last night, I did what I was told. I listened as Pepper walked me through every single step of the makeup routine she said would best suit me if I followed her rules, and even though I retained everything she had to say about contouring and the like, my gut still felt as if it had been punched.
Yes, Hunter and I had been photographed by the paparazzi. But because we worked behind the camera—and not in front of it—I never believed for one moment that those photos would be sent out to the masses.
But they had.
Our ‘date’ had been documented.
And what would that mean for us going forward?
“So, an
yway, now that I’m about to do your eyes, just how hot do you want to look for Hunter today?”
Fuck my life . . .
“I, uh, well . . .”
“Got it, girl,” Pepper interrupted. “Professional, yes, but also so smoking hot, he’s totally going to want to take you into his office and bend you over his desk.”
“Pepper!” I said.
“Whatevs, Jules. The jig is up. And when he sees you after I’m finished with you? His cock will be up, too.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JUST BEFORE WE ARRIVED in SoHo at the corner of Prince and 565 Broadway, where The Terrible Teens would be shot in its luxurious loft, Pepper removed a hand mirror from her bag and gave it to me. With a sense of trepidation, I looked into the mirror to see what she’d done to me. And when I did? I saw how seriously gifted she was. Truth be told, I was floored.
“Oh, my God,” I said as I looked this way and that in the mirror. “Pepper, what have you done to me? I’ve never looked this good—as in never.”
“You can thank the years of hard work I put into learning my craft while hiding from my deadbeat parents in my bedroom,” she said to me with a wry smile. “Do you really like it? I mean, I’ve given you a seriously bold red lip, and I’ve put just enough gloss on those lips so they look perfectly pouty in ways that don’t say ‘prostitute.’ And then there are your eyes, which I enhanced with just enough smoke for day—but not for evening, which is something altogether more dramatic. To boost your professional career, what I tried to create for you is what you’ve become with your new job at CAA—a powerful woman who must look powerful. Someone who is never to be dismissed. I know that you’re new to being an agent, but if you’re going to own that title when it comes to representing CAA? Honey, as far as I’m concerned, this is your new look, because people will start to notice you even more than they already have if you carry on with it. Your new mantra needs to be this—makeup is power, because that’s the damned truth. Looking your best and your boldest will change your life. I came up with this look for you because it says that you’re a strong, confident, sexy woman who needs to be taken seriously. Do you think I captured that for you?”
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