Diary of an Ugly Duckling (20 page)

thing again,” she said, a little surprised by the

plaintiveness of her own voice. “Tell me I’m doing

the right thing . . . by becoming an Ugly Duckling.

Maybe . . . maybe . . .” Audra struggled with the

words. “Maybe I’m okay the way I am . . . maybe I

shouldn’t be doing this after all.”

There was a second’s hesitation on the other end

of the phone, then Shamiyah said, “Why? Are you

having second thoughts?”

“Well, yes,” Audra admitted. “I mean, he said I

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

163

was beautiful. He said I had grace and humor. Me!

Maybe—”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Shamiyah said re-

assuringly. “You’re building yourself a brand new

future, Audra. I mean, look at the confidence you’ve

gained already. A few weeks ago, would you have had

the nerve to invite this Bradshaw guy to the show?

Would you?”

Audra considered. “I don’t think so . . .” she said

at last. “No.”

“See what I mean? The changes you’re making on

the
outside
are giving you the courage to make

changes on the
inside
!” she enthused. “Imagine what

you’ll be like when you’ve completed the whole pro-

cess. You’ll be a powerhouse, Audra! An absolute

powerhouse
!” Audra imagined her nodding so hard,

her head full of springy curls were dancing a jig.

“Don’t let any of this stuff he said confuse you.”

“But maybe he’s right. I mean, I have lost weight.

It’s been really hard, but I know I look better. Be-

sides . . .” She swallowed. “This lightening thing

makes me nervous. Maybe I’ve done enough al-

ready. Maybe I should just quit.”

“All because some guy said you were ‘beautiful

just the way you are,’ ” she said, pitching her voice

in a mincing imitation that made the words sound

shallow and lifeless. “Come on, Audra. That one’s

right up there with a ‘good personality.’ It’s code for

‘not my type.’ ”

Audra frowned. “But he asked if he could call me

sometime—”

“He asked you to his daughter’s party, too. Had

he talked to you since? No.” Shamiyah answered

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Karyn Langhorne

herself before Audra could get her mouth around

the word. “Heck, he wasn’t even looking for you to-

day. You said yourself he just happened to work a

double shift. If it hadn’t been for that, you still

wouldn’t have heard a word from him—”

“But he’s been dealing with a lot of family prob-

lems. With Esmeralda and—”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve got some things to
learn
about

men, Audra.” Shamiyah sounded like she was

rolling her eyes. “Let me lay some
knowledge
on you,

sister girl.” She paused for dramatic effect, using the

silence as well as in any movie scene. “When a man

is really
into
you, he can
find
his way to your tele-

phone and your workplace and your front door. It

doesn’t matter what
else
is going on his life. When

he’s really interested, he’ll find a way to make
sure

you know it.” She let that sink in a second before

adding in her worldly, know-it-all way, “I bet when

he first met Esmeralda,
she
didn’t have to spend

three months guessing what was going on with him.

I bet
she
didn’t have to wait until she
happened
to run

into him at work. No way. I bet he was sniffing

around after her with his nose wide open!”

“What you’re saying makes sense, Shamiyah,”

Audra agreed. “It’s just . . . I don’t know. I believed

him, I guess—”

“You believed him,” Shamiyah repeated the

words, her voice heavy with skepticism. “Well, I

guess we’ll just have to wait and see what he does

next, then, right? We’ll have to see if he calls. He’s

got your phone number, right?”

Audra squirmed a little. “I don’t know,” she ad-

mitted. “I don’t think so.”

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

165

“Let me get this straight. He said he’s going to call

you, but he doesn’t even have your phone number?

Gimme a break, Audra!”

“I said I didn’t know, Shamiyah,” Audra ex-

ploded in frustration. “He might have it. Just be-

cause I didn’t give it to him doesn’t mean—”

“Did he look you in the face this time?” Shamiyah

interrupted. “Did he look you in the face . . . or did

he spend most of the conversation staring over your

shoulder, or at your chin—anywhere but dead on?”

Audra sighed. She would have given anything to

be able to contradict her—to offer evidence in Brad-

shaw’s defense. But there wasn’t any. She could

count on one hand the times Bradshaw had shown

her his eyes in the course of their conversation, and

those had been startlingly brief.

“You’re doing the right thing, Audra,” Shamiyah

said in the silence, her tone returning to calm reas-

surance. “You are absolutely doing the right thing!”

There was another short pause before she continued

with a slight giggle. “And even if you’re not, you’ve

signed a contract, so that’s pretty much that. Now,

get yourself over to the gym, sweetie. When your Art

Bradshaw sees you again, he’ll be eating his heart

out with regret!” She paused a moment and when

she spoke again, her voice had assumed a very dif-

ferent tone. “How’s your mother? How’s Edith?”

Audra rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask.”

Chapter 14

June 24

Dear Petra,

It’s my last day here in New York. Tomorrow I fly to Los

Angeles and the process begins.

I’m a little nervous, but mostly, I’m ready to go. Ma’s

been driving me crazy—scolding me one minute for

being a fool, and pleading with me the next. She

knows the only chance of stopping me now is to come

clean, but she still won’t do it. I’m beginning to think

she never will.

And Shamiyah was right: I haven’t seen Bradshaw

since that day. He hasn’t even called. She seems to

think he just needed someone to talk to that day, and I

was convenient. Just like he needed someone to

buffer for his daughter on the night of her party . . .

and I was convenient. That’s me: Miss Convenient.

Shamiyah’s really becoming a good friend—almost

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

167

like another sister. I would buy her explanations for

AB’s behavior lock, stock and barrel if it weren’t for the

movies. It’s weird he watches the same TV I do. It just

seems like we’d have so much in common . . . if only

he’d take the time to find out.

But anyway, on the whole, I’m ready. The only

person I’ll really miss is Kiana. I haven’t talked to her

about it much, but I think she understands.

I’m using up all my accrued vacation and sick time

and taking an extended leave from work. I won’t miss

it. I don’t think I want to be a model when all this is

over, but I wonder how much longer I want to work in

corrections. I feel pulled to try something new . . . but

I don’t know what. Maybe when I look into my own

eyes in a new face, I’ll know.

Sounds like you’re going to be on the move soon

yourself. Maybe things will have settled down in the

southern part of the country by the time your detail has

to make its deliveries. Keep emailing me—I bought a

laptop computer to take with me to L.A. just so we

can stay in touch.

Be careful out there,

Audra

Shamiyah stood at the baggage claim when Audra

arrived, looking fresh and fashionable in a red

top with delicate flounces of lace hanging low

enough to be seductive but high enough to avoid be-

ing too sexy for everyday, another pair of low-slung

jeans and high-heeled red-tipped slides. Audra

took her in from tip to toes, deciding in an instant

that when she was finished with her makeover, she

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Karyn Langhorne

would adopt Shamiyah’s exact style, right down to

the dangling earrings hanging from her perky

brown lobes.

The woman was staring intently at her. “My God!

You’ve lost another what? Twenty pounds?” she

asked, nodding her approval.

“Only ten,” Audra admitted. “I followed the diet

to the letter but”—she grinned sheepishly, donning

a Southern accent—“I loves Ma’s fried chicken.”

Shamiyah laughed. “Well, you won’t be getting

any of it out here.” She appraised Audra again, this

time with the cool eye of her profession. “It defi-

nitely looks good. For real life, I’d say this is the

perfect weight for you. But for television, you’ll have

to lose about thirty more,” she added, her inspection

continuing. “And you really
are
lighter. There’s a

lot more red in your skin now than there was

when we shot the New York footage a few weeks

ago.” She squinted as if that would make the differ-

ences more plain. “You’ve definitely gone from

dark chocolate to milk chocolate . . . but it’s not as

dramatic as I would have expected. From what

Dr. Jamison said, I thought you’d be”—she shrugged

a pretty shoulder—“graham cracker brown or some-

thing by now.”

“I was a little worried I might be white chocolate,

myself,” Audra joked. “He says he’s going to up the

dosage a bit now that I’m here and he can watch for

side effects.”

“Good.” Shamiyah nodded, shaking her mountain

of springy curls. “We want this makeover to be as

dramatic as possible. That’s the best way to ensure

that all the sistahs from Maine to Honolulu tune in.”

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

169

She squeezed Audra’s arm, showing a few tastefully

manicured fingers, then flipped her sunglasses

down from the top of her head and started walking

and talking at a speed many a New Yorker would

have envied. “And that gives you the strongest

chance to be voted Top Three,” she said, leaning to-

ward Audra conspiratorially, and Audra felt like the

two of them were united in a common, secret mission.

“I wouldn’t count on winning the whole enchilada—

that’s probably going to go to one of the white girls—

but I definitely think we can make the Top Three, if

you keep working it. Now,” she said, resuming her

normal voice, “I’ve got a car waiting. Let’s grab the

rest of your stuff ”—she grabbed the black duffel out

of Audra’s fingers and slung it over her shoulder by

its strap—“and I’ll take you where you’ll be living for

the next three months, and then—”

“Girl, we can go to the car now. There’s no more

luggage,” Audra interrupted. “There’s nothing of

my old life I need with me that didn’t fit in this little

bag—underwear, toothbrush, deodorant and work-

out clothes—that’s it. When the surgery is over and

we have the Reveal, the first thing I want to do is go

on a shopping trip. Already set aside a budget.”

Shamiyah draped her slender brown arm around

Audra’s shoulder. “If we play the marketing right,

someone will be
giving
you that wardrobe when

we’re finished. Promise me you won’t spend a dime

without talking it over with me, okay?”

Audra nodded.

“Good girl.” Shamiyah gave her another girl-

friendly grin, then reached into the little red satchel

slung casually over her other shoulder. “And

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Karyn Langhorne

speaking of gifts . . .” she pulled a little black case

out of it. “Here you go.”

Audra accepted the package, her mouth open in

surprise. “What is it?” she asked the box, inspecting

it from all angles.

“Open it, silly,” Shamiyah laughed. “That’s the

best way to find out.”

Audra pried open the case. Nestled inside were a

pair of sunglasses identical to the ones Shamiyah

wore.

“Wow—”

“They’re really hot right now. Everyone’s wearing

them.”

“Shamiyah.” Audra shook her head. “I don’t

know how to thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” She leaned close. “The com-

pany is one of the show’s sponsors, so I got them for

free.” She flipped her own pair down over her eyes

and nodded for Audra to do the same.

Audra settled the glasses on her nose and pulled

her baseball cap down low, then shrugged back into

her long-sleeved jacket. It was so loose now, the

sleeves easily covered her fingertips, blocking their

exposure to the sun. Shamiyah studied these prepa-

rations, shaking her head. “You’re gonna burn up

out here, dressed like that!”

“Dr. Jamison said no sun—”

“But he didn’t say no
style
. We’ll work on it.” The

arm dropped around Audra’s shoulder again. “Wel-

come to L.A., girl!”

“This is it.” Shamiyah swung wide the double