“S-S-Sorry. No d-d-diet.”
A wry snort erupted from Magda’s mouth. “Of course you wouldn’t need ‘diet’ anything. Whatever you have is fine.”
She followed Opal into the kitchen, and before Opal could suggest the lounge as a better option, sank into the chair opposite Sera at the small dining table.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Magda held out her hand for Sera to shake. “I’m Magda—a friend of your mom’s.”
Friend? Presumptuous, much? Opal let it slide and waited for Sera’s reaction to this glamorous woman who would turn even Sienna Mitchell—the most painfully snobbish person Opal knew—green with envy.
Sera hesitated, and Opal figured it was because she felt uncomfortable calling a strange adult by her first name.
Magda smiled. “I do have a last name, but my friends call me Magda.”
Sera glanced sideways, obviously still unsure. And when Opal nodded, she gravely shook Magda’s still outstretched hand. “Hello, Magda. I’m Seraphine.” A pause while she nibbled her lip, and then with a rush, “But my friends call me Sera.”
Hmm. Interesting that Magda had been put on Sera’s “possible friend” list.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Sera,” Magda said.
Opal rummaged in the fridge for two sodas. She set them on the counter and as she turned to grab a glass, Sera said, “I think I’ve got it now. Can you test me on this last word, please, Mommy?”
“I’ll do it,” Opal heard Magda say. There was a longish pause and then, “Wow. That is one yucky word, Sera. Your teacher must have been in a real bad mood when she set your homework.”
“She was,” Sera said. “The Bunnies wouldn’t stop giggling and she got real mad. She said she was gonna give us all detention if we didn’t quiet down.”
“Bunnies?”
“The popular girls in my grade. They’re real mean to everyone. And they all dress the same and try to look the same, too. One of them even got her mom to dye her hair blonde.”
“Stupid,” Magda said. “Kids your age shouldn’t being dyeing their hair.”
“That’s what Mommy said when I asked if I could dye mine.”
Opal squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Sera didn’t have the easiest time at school but Opal had hoped she’d gotten over this dyeing her hair thing. Because merely changing the color of her hair wouldn’t make Sera acceptable to girls like the Bunnies. It’d take the right clothes, too. And a nicer house. Not to mention a mother with a more socially acceptable job. Sera didn’t stand a chance at being admitted to their inner circle. And, having met a couple of Bunnies, Opal couldn’t help feeling grateful for that. Those little girls could give a stereotypical bitchy cheerleader-type in any current TV show a run for her money.
When she opened her eyes again Magda was saying, “Well, your Mom’s right, Sera. To dye your hair blonde would take a lot of nasty chemicals that would strip out all that lovely vibrant red. They also smell really bad and can burn your skin if you’re not careful. Some people are even allergic to the chemicals. But the worse thing is, your hair keeps growing in its natural color, so you’d have to keep on dyeing it every few weeks or you’d have a very unattractive bright red skunk-stripe. And if you decided you didn’t like the new color and wanted to go back, it’d be really hard to find a dye to match your beautiful natural one.”
Huh. That little speech was somewhat surprising considering Magda didn’t have a single gray hair despite her age. Opal had picked Magda as the type who’d be all for giving little girls a makeover to fit in with their peers.
“Veronica has a dark brown skunk-stripe,” Sera said. “It looks weird.”
“I bet,” Magda said. “Embrace your hair, Sera. It’s unique and the color is absolutely unforgettable… and I’m just not saying that to be diplomatic. When you’re older, and can style it yourself, girls are gonna envy the hell out your hair. In the meantime, leave all that carry-on until you’re old enough to know how to make good decisions about your body. Now, let’s try this word you’ve learned, shall we?”
Opal’s lips twitched at the “diplomatic” dig. And then she smothered a groan. Dammit, she was really starting to like this woman. She fished a drinking straw from the cutlery drawer and popped the tab on one of the cans.
“You have to ask me to spell it, Magda,” Sera said. “Then I make a picture of it in my head and spell each letter aloud, okay?”
“Okay. Spell ‘misbehavior’ for me, please, Sera.”
“M-i-s-b-e-h-a-v-e-i…. No. Um… h-a-v-i-o-r.”
“One more time,” Magda said. “Just to be sure.”
“M-i-s-b-e-h-a-v-i-o-r. Misbehavior.”
“Correct!”
Opal turned around in time to see Sera give Magda an enthusiastic hi-five. “I got it right, Mommy!” she crowed.
Opal carried the second unopened can and a glass to the table. She set them in front of Magda, and tousled Sera’s hair before pulling out a chair. “W-W-Well done, sweetie. W-W-Would you l-l-like to w-w-watch TV for a b-b-bit?”
Sera’s gaze flashed to the can of soda. Opal wasn’t surprised to glimpse longing flitting across her daughter’s face. Soda was saved for special treats. She pointed to the opened can and the straw on the counter.
Sera’s eyes went huge. “A whole can?”
Opal nodded and held up a finger to indicate “just this one time”.
“Wow. You must need lots of time for a grown-up talk with Magda, huh?” Sera was already out of her chair and reaching for the can.
“Ch-Ch-Cheeky monkey. Scoot!” Opal made shooing motions.
“I promise I won’t spill any on the floor. And I’ll do the rest of my homework after Magda leaves.”
Opal took a seat. Magda was watching Sera nursing the can in both hands like it was something infinitely precious. Opal knew her daughter’s brow would be scrunched with concentration and the tip of her tongue would be poking from between her lips. And she would look so endearing she’d melt hearts.
Magda swiveled in the chair. “Your daughter’s a little sweetheart,” she said, her voice harboring a warmth Opal felt compelled to believe was genuine. “She’s got fabulous genes. Loads of potential.”
“F-F-For wh-wh-what, exactly?”
Showing reckless disregard for her manicure, Magda popped the tab on her soda and poured half a glass. She offered the can to Opal. “If I drink a whole one I’ll be making restroom stops all the way home. And some of those public restrooms are plain nasty.”
Opal accepted the can and set it on the table. She traced the condensation on the label with a fingertip while she waited for Magda to fill the silence.
“I’m a fan of plain speaking,” Magda said. “So I’ll get right to the point. I’ve been in the fashion industry longer than you’ve been out of diapers. I know you used to be a damn fine model. I know you went by the name Jordan Cast. And I want yours to be the face and body and name that launches my new range. I’m planning a limited launch first up. Jeans. Then casual wear, lingerie, perfume, sunglasses—the works. I want Jordan Cast. I want you. And I’m prepared to offer you an obscene amount of money, and the most generous contract terms you’ve ever seen.”
God. Opal had expected a cleaning contract offer. And sure, it had crossed her fertile mind there might be some teeny tiny remote possibility that Magda had unearthed some evidence of her past relationship with Rick, and was here to dig for dirt in the hope of discrediting his campaign for mayor. Or something. But she’d never in a million years expected this.
She picked up the can and gulped the contents until the burn from the fizzy drink got too intense and she had to pause to take a breath.
“Don’t bother telling me I’ve got the wrong girl, and that you’re not Jordan Cast.” Magda took a dainty sip from her glass and leaned back in her chair, a picture of poise and composure as she fixed Opal with her too-knowing, steely-gray gaze. “Friend of mine sent me photos of that fashion show you did in Brooklyn recently. Of course I recognized yo
u instantly.”
Opal’s heart plummeted to her toes. Yep. That rash decision was coming back to bite her on the ass big-time. She swallowed a couple of times and eventually managed a hoarse, “Why m-m-me?” Which should have been followed by something to the effect of “there are a heap of other girls to choose from who’re still in the business” but she figured Magda would get the gist.
Magda stared at Opal like she’d grown another head. Then she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and laughed. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“No.”
“It’s been almost a decade and you should have been… I don’t know, run-of-the-mill? Awkward? Terrible, even? But those photos are something else. You’re sexy on camera. But there’s an innocence about you, too. And the camera loves you. Hell, you even made Stella North’s designs look a million bucks. And believe me, her creations are nothing I haven’t seen before. In a word, boring.”
Ouch. Opal winced at this harsh condemnation.
Magda sighed and drummed her nails on the tabletop. And when she spoke it seemed more as if she was speaking to herself than Opal. “I need to come clean with Conrad about Stella sooner rather than later. He dotes on that girl. But she’s arrogant and not especially talented, which to my mind makes her irredeemable. She needs a wake-up call, and he needs to quit letting her use him to get ahead. It’s becoming embarrassing.” Another sigh. “But even a ball-breaker like me doesn’t like disappointing her friends.”
Hang on. Conrad was a personal friend of Magda’s?
God, what a mess. Poor Annie. If Stella’s aspirations were doomed to failure, she was highly likely to embrace her inner bitch and make Annie’s life even more difficult. It wasn’t easy at the best of times being married to a significantly older man whose youngest daughter resented the hell out of you.
Opal must have moaned out loud for Magda reached across the tabletop to pat her wrist. “I know you’re friends with Conrad’s new wife. And you’ve probably guessed Conrad sent me those photos, hoping I’d be so impressed by Stella’s designs I’d concede to mentor her. You probably feel like you’re caught in the middle, correct? Don’t stress. I’ll handle Conrad and Stella.”
She absorbed Opal’s startled expression and waved an elegant hand. “And please don’t blame Annie North for giving up your address. My PA, Emilie, loves a challenge. When she figured out the identity of the girl in the photo, and why I wanted to find you, she just about wet her panties with excitement. She’s a force of nature when she sets her mind to something. Annie didn’t stand a chance.”
Duly noted that Emilie, PA extraordinaire, was a woman to be avoided at all costs. Opal chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering how to let Magda down easy. Best to tell the truth. Or as much of it she was willing to reveal to a woman she’d just met. “M-M-My st-st-stutter. I’d b-b-be a l-l-liability.”
Magda’s incisive gaze softened. “If you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here. And I give you my word I’d never betray your confidence. I can also recommend an excellent therapist.”
“T-T-Tried speech th-th-therapy.”
“I’m talking about my personal therapist. She was attached to a special victims unit for a few years before she set up a private practice… which is the reason I sought her out.”
Nausea churned in Opal’s belly and she’d hazard a guess her expression right now was stricken.
Whoa. Nice move, Magda. But I don’t know you well enough to even consider bonding over the two of us being victims. And if you think that revelation is going to make me open up and spill my guts after all these years, you can think again.
Some things were better left buried.
Magda waited a bit for Opal to process—or confess—and when she remained silent, nodded and tactfully changed the subject. “I could see you being an excellent advocate for young people with speech disabilities. But interviews could be limited to print-only if you preferred, with a mandatory confidentiality agreement signed by the journo stating that your stutter not be disclosed. No TV or radio or anything that made you uncomfortable. You would call the shots, Opal. And frankly, you being publicity shy might add to your mystique and help boost the label.”
Magda fished a folder from her tote and passed over a sheaf of documents. “Here’s the offer. The important part is in the second paragraph of the cover letter. The rest is the usual legalese but don’t take my word for it. There’s a check attached to cover any legal fees incurred when you get this contract checked over before you sign. I’ve also listed three attorneys I feel comfortable recommending to negotiate it for you. I’ve not personally been represented by any of them so there’s no conflict of interest, and in my professional opinion they’re all damned good at what they do. But you should choose whomever you feel comfortable with. I understand you’re acquainted with Desiree Grant?”
Opal jerked in her seat.
“No, she didn’t tell Emilie anything about you.” Magda’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “She was quite blunt about declining the request, too. Emilie was most put out—I think she met her match with Desiree. You’ve got one hell of a friend there, Opal. So perhaps ask Desiree to recommend someone.”
She might just do that. Opal glanced at the check designated for legal fees and gulped. It seemed overly generous, but she’d been out of the loop for so long what did she know? And, as if the Fates were pulling strings, who should be at the top of the list of recommended legal professionals? None other than Annie’s husband, Conrad North.
“If you’re thinking my friendship with Conrad will make him less likely to work exclusively on your behalf,” Magda said, “think again.”
The wryness in her tone made Opal glance up from the sheaf of papers.
“I’ve known Conrad many years and straight up, wrangling legalese into submission is the equivalent of a legal high for that man. Given the opportunity he would rip this contract apart, rewrite it from start to finish, and happily make me a pauper without batting an eyelid. He can’t be bought or coerced. I respect that about him—always have.”
Magda leaned forward and rested her elbows on the tabletop. “Here’s the thing, Opal. I’ve been screwed over by sneaky contract clauses before. Most people in our line of business have at some time or another. But I’d rather not screw over someone I’m hoping to work with. Crudely put, that’s shitting in your own nest. So am I confident this contract is in your best interests as well as mine? Hell yeah. Would I be happy if you signed it right now? You bet your sweet ass I would. But I want you to be certain, okay? I don’t want you having any doubts or regrets.” She flicked a hand at the documents. “Now hurry up and get to the good stuff.”
Opal flicked to the cover letter…. And nearly fell off her chair. Five-year contract. Option for renewal. And so many zeros it took her a minute or so to translate the figure.
She blinked once. Twice. But the decimal point hadn’t moved. And it was so overwhelming she had to remind herself to breathe. A long-term contract. Working in an industry she’d once loved. Enough money to set her and Sera up for life. She could sell up and buy a nicer house. And Sera wouldn’t have to bus to school. Opal could drive her because they could afford a car. Hell, Sera could even go to a private school if she wanted. And Opal could hire a nanny to look after Sera whenever she had to work.
Enough money to hire a top-notch attorney to fight anything Rick tried to throw at them should he take exception to Jordan Cast resuming her modeling career. She could finally be free of him. That thought alone made her giddy.
“Do you need more time to think about it?” Magda asked.
Opal glanced up to see Sera hovering in the doorway, a question in her eyes. She wondered how much Sera had overheard and how much she understood.
Sera chewed her thumbnail. “If Magda wants you to do some modeling then you should do it, Mommy. ’Coz you were real excited and happy about doing that fashion show for Annie. And I can’t remember you being that happy for a real long time.”
/> Opal widened her eyes to prevent the tears from spilling over. She beckoned Sera, and pointed to the dollar amount on the cover letter. “M-M-Math lesson.”
Sera traced her finger below each zero and Opal could hear her counting them beneath her breath. Sera lifted her head and glared at Magda. Hard. “If this is a joke it’s not very nice,” she said.
“It’s not a joke, Sera,” Magda said. “I promise. I want your mommy to come work for me, and if she agrees I’ll pay her a whole lot of money.”
Opal wrapped her arms around Sera and drew her close. She could feel her daughter shaking. “That’s a whole lot of money,” Sera whispered.
“Yes.” No point beating about the bush. Sera was a smart kid.
“We could buy a house.”
“Yes.”
“One that’s big enough for Dan, too.”
Where had that come from? “Uh—”
“When you’re away working would I have a nanny?”
That, she could answer. “Yes.”
“Do I get to help pick her?”
“Yes.”
“If she turns out to be real mean, will you fire her and pick someone else?”
Opal inhaled sharply. “Absolutely.”
“If you’re away weekends, can me and the nanny come stay wherever you’re staying, too? Sometimes. Not all the time. Unless you wanted us to.”
“I’d love that.”
“Then I think you should do it, Mommy.”
“I think so, too.” Opal glanced overtop Sera’s head at Magda, and damned if Magda wasn’t smiling fit to burst… and blotting her eyes with a tissue.
“So,” Magda said. “We’re doing this?”
“Yes.”
“Can I give you a hug?”
“Yes.” Despite the dampness sheening her forehead, and her stomach doing an excellent impression of a yo-yo, and her chest feeling so constricted that she was panting, she hadn’t stuttered in good long while. She could get used to saying the Y-word.
Magda threw herself out of her chair, sending it skittering across the floor. Opal watched, wide-eyed, as the poised woman indulged in a bout of sprinting-on-the spot, her arms pumping as she crowed, “Yes!” And then Magda exhaled a deep, audible breath, shook her arms like they were limp noodles, rolled her shoulders once, and slinked over to Opal and Sera. She wasn’t allowing herself to smile but her eyes gleamed.
Opal's Wish: Book Four of The Crystal Warriors Series Page 21