Beautiful People | wlw

Twenty-seven: Idol

Fatima Bhatia looked around as Vera stepped out of the crowd. One curved eyebrow arched in a question.

With a slight smile, Sharise touched her fingers to Vera's back and drew her close. "This is Vera."

Did that sound like Sharise had been talking about her before she arrived? Vera couldn't tell. When Sharise removed her hand from her back she felt a little sick, but she stuck out her own hand and said hello. Her voice came out calm and confident, which was a small relief.

Light gleamed on a dozen rings as Fatima Bhatia waved her hands. "I hate introductions. They make me itch."

A little befuddled, Vera took her hand back. "Okay, uh." Fighting the overpowering urge to gush about what an honor this was, she managed only the super-lame, "Enjoying the party?"

"Hm. The show has been amusing." Bhatia tilted her head, gold glittering at her ears. Up close, her beauty was a little less intimidating. One of her eyebrows had more curve than the other, and for some reason that made Vera feel slightly better. She gestured towards the bar, where Ellie had been trapped into conversation by her date. "You were talking to Elaheh. Have you known her long?"

"We only met once," Vera said, glancing at Sharise.

"I see. Beautiful but difficult, that one. Tell me, Vera, have you ever seen her on a runway?"

"Not in person, but I've watched coverage of all your shows, and she-"

"No, no, not Elaheh," Bhatia interrupted, saving Vera from devolving into total fangirl mode. She spread her hands towards Sharise, fingers wide. "You see it. The elegance. The strength. Magnificent. And yet she will not lend me the gift of her beauty. Never once in all these years has she agreed to walk in one of my shows. I keep asking, and every time. Refused."

"You flatter me," Sharise said.

"I am always serious about work."

Vera's brain felt like a screen stuck on loading. Bhatia had wanted Sharise to model for her? She thought about the thousands of times she had gushed about her idol to Sharise and suddenly felt very foolish.

Sharise's small, indulgent smile suggested they'd had this conversation many times before. "You know that modeling isn't for me."

"Yes, you chose acting, and then Carmen, as though you cannot do both." Bhatia nodded slowly. "The industry is not the same as you remember. It is becoming less narrow. Certainly, there are many who wish it would remain the same. But what is art without innovation? Without many voices sharing what they have to say?" She lifted her palms. "When you say this about modeling, I hear your mother's poison."

Sharise frowned down at the glass she held, one giant spherical ice cube and a twist of orange peel in a rippling copper liquid. Like the martini she'd been carrying earlier, the drink was just an accessory; no lipstick marks marred the rim. "Have you talked to her lately?"

"I see her sometimes."

A passing server offered an exquisitely arranged tray of tiny things more sculpture than food. Vera grabbed one and stuffed it into her mouth to prevent herself from saying something stupid. She felt uncomfortably like she was eavesdropping.

Finally, Sharise said, "Is she well?"

"She is lonely, but that is a problem of her own making."

Sharise nodded once.

"Shall I tell her you asked?"

"No. Thank you."

Still chewing, Vera put her hand on Sharise's shoulder and squeezed briefly.