Dietland (9 page)

The elevator doors closed behind me. I stepped to the silver doors and rang the bell. A number of seconds passed, but there was no sound or hint of a human being on the other side.

I was about to ring the bell again when I heard the faintest noise. I pressed my ear to the door.
Click-clop, click-clop.
The sound grew steadily louder.
Click-clop, click-clop,
like a horse in a Western film.
Click-clop.
I listened for a minute longer and realized it was the sound of someone wearing high heels, approaching from a great distance.
Click-clop.

“Coming,” a voice called, and then one of the doors opened slightly and a head popped out. “I am Julia Cole, manager of the Beauty Closet. How may I help you?”

“I'm Plum. I don't know why I'm here.”

The woman opened the door, allowing me entry, but she didn't speak. I stepped inside and what I saw made me gasp. The Beauty Closet was hardly a
closet.
You could easily fit a 747 inside it, perhaps two. For as far as I could see were steel shelves reaching to unknown heights, with blinding lights overhead; it was like a supermarket on the grand scale of a temple constructed by the Babylonians. Ladders on wheels were positioned in each aisle, extending so high that the tops of them were whited out by the lights, as if they were ascending into the sky. There were signs at the end of each aisle—
LIPS, LIDS, LASHES, HAIR
, and so on—and each shelf was lined with black lacquered trays filled with products.

“You call this a
closet?
”

The woman stood before me, wearing a silky mauve blouse and cream-colored slacks that ended just above her ankles, with heels on her feet. Around her slender waist was a black canvas tool belt, filled with brushes and tubes of lipstick.

“For you,” she said, handing me a metallic tube. On the bottom it said, “Juicy Plum.”

Julia motioned for me to follow her. We walked down the Lips aisle, which was subdivided into sections for lipstick, gloss, liner, and balm; each of these sections was subdivided by color, with swatches on display, like the inside of a paint store. Taped to one of the shelves was a handwritten sign:
LIPS: MINORA AND MAJORA
, with an explicit illustration of a vulva. “Just a little humor,” Julia said when she saw me looking.

In the middle of the aisle were two stools on wheels, where Julia and I sat. “To answer your question, we call this the Beauty Closet for old times' sake. When the Austen Corporation was founded on this site in 1928, Cornelius Austen's daughter was put in charge of organizing the cosmetics for the two fashion magazines Austen published at that time. It was just a way to keep her busy until she found a husband. She was well liked, always offering tea to those who visited her in the closet. The Beauty Closet became an Austen tradition.”

Julia adjusted her tool belt to prevent some makeup brushes from slipping out. Above her head was a shelf labeled
LIPSTICK/MATTE/BURGUNDY.003LMB
. I wondered if Julia had devised this Dewey Decimal System for cosmetics.

“What's all this makeup for?”

“There are fifty-two stories on top of us. We publish nine fashion magazines, known collectively as the Nine Muses, as you know, and we also produce many television programs and all sorts of other things. There are a lot of women on our pages and on our air, and all of them need makeup. That's what we provide here.”

I glanced around, trying to take it in, and shivering slightly.

“It's chilly in here so the makeup doesn't melt. I'm used to it by now,” she said. “Before we go any further, you must agree that what I say to you here is confidential.”

I nodded.

Julia reached into her belt and withdrew a folded paper. “On May eleventh, writing under an assumed name, I sent this message through the Dear Kitty portal of the
Daisy Chain
website:
Dear Kitty, I consider you to be one of the great intellectual minds of our time, so I would like to ask you a question. Who is more oppressed—a woman covered from head to toe in a burka or one of the bikini-clad models in your magazine?
”

I thought for a moment, and then the memory of it swam to the surface. “I remember. That wasn't the usual type of message.”

Julia continued. “Three days later, I received this reply:
It pleases me that you think about such issues. I don't normally receive messages from girls like you! You pose an interesting question, one that I'm not sure I can answer. One woman covers her body, while the other exposes herself. You could think of it as two sides of the same coin. Thanks for writing to me!
”

Julia folded the paper and slipped it back into her tool belt. Hearing her read the words of Plum-as-Kitty made me self-conscious.

“I knew this message was not written by Kitty. I had no expectation that she would reply personally, of course, but it was immediately clear that this message was not written by the regular sort of person Kitty would hire, one of the beauty bots who make up her staff. I wanted to find out who had written this message, which wasn't difficult. I called her assistant, Eladio, who blabbed all in a matter of minutes. Once I knew who you were, and that you worked from home, I sent Leeta to learn about you. She's my intern. I lured her away from
Glamour Bride
last fall.”

Leeta.
At last, she had a name. “She doesn't strike me as the
Glamour Bride
type,” I said, envisioning the combat boots and scary makeup.

“She has no interest in glamour or brides, I can assure you. Her internship there was purely a means to an end.”

“Is she here?” I hoped that she wasn't. She knew too much about me. She had seen.

“Leeta had to go out of town unexpectedly. Now, let me take this opportunity to apologize for her behavior. Yes, I sent her to follow you, but you must understand that the work I do here is highly sensitive. I wanted Leeta to scope you out, to get an idea of your daily routine, to see if she could tell what kind of person you are. I can't trust just anybody, and I wanted Leeta to see if you'd be friendly to our cause.”

“What cause?”

“My point is that after speaking with Leeta and reading the journal she kept, I fear that she might have behaved inappropriately, that she might have intruded upon your life and . . . unsettled you.” Julia reached deep into her tool belt and withdrew the red spiral notebook that Leeta always wrote in while she was following me.

“Let me see that,” I said, grabbing for the notebook, but Julia put it back in her tool belt.

Rebuffed, I said: “I could have called the police.”

“Then why didn't you?”

I had no good answer.

“Again, I'm sorry for what happened,” she said. “You weren't supposed to notice Leeta.”

“But sending her to spy is okay?”

“She was not spying. She was getting to know you.”

“Without my knowledge?”

“In the beginning, yes.”

I wondered if I was the victim of a practical joke. If so, Julia was quite an actor. “Why did she give me Verena Baptist's book?”

“Leeta took it upon herself to do that. She grew fond of you and wanted to reach out. She thought you might appreciate the message of the book.”

“Do you know Verena?”

The doorbell rang. Julia was startled and slid back her chair, hitting the shelf behind her; tubes of lipsticks rained on her head and spilled all over the floor. “Shit,” she said. “Come with me.” Julia ran in a trot toward the entrance, as fast as she could in the heels. Someone was banging on the door. “It's Tamryn Suarez-O'Brien,” a woman shouted. “Is anyone in there? Open this door!”

“She's a producer on
Lingerie Live,
” Julia whispered to me.

Tamryn Suarez-O'Brien teetered into the closet on purple snakeskin heels, drumming the fingers of her right hand on her enormous pregnant belly. “What took you so long? You know I can't stand up for very long,” she said to Julia, but she was looking at me.

“Who are you?” Tamryn rolled her eyes over me.

“She works for Kitty,” Julia said. “She came down to get some lipstick.”

“Yeah, well, I hate to pull rank, but I need some perfume and I can't wait. All morning I've smelled something horrible. You know,
BO.
I was wondering who it was that smelled so bad, then I realized it was me.”

Julia led Tamryn to the perfumes, leaving me alone. I picked up the clipboard hanging at the end of the Lips aisle:

[
NEW ARRIVALS—WEEK OF JUNE 4, 2012
] Afghan Red.00379 All Night Long.00380 Amaretto.00381 Amber Rose.00382 Amorous.00383 Angel.00384 Apache Red.00385 Apple Brandy.00386 Arabian Night.00387 Areola.00388 Aroused.00389 Baby Doll.00390 Baby's Bottom.00391 Baked Earth.00392 Bare.00393 Beauty Queen.00394 Beige Beauty.00395 Belle de Jour.00396 Bitchy.00397 Bite Me.00398 Black Honey.00399 Blackberry.00400 Blaze.00401 Bleed.00402 Blonde Honey.00403 Blonde Venus.00404 Blood Red.00405 Bloomin' Pink.00406 Blush.00407 Blushing Rose.00408 Bohemian Bronze.00409 Brandy.00410 Brownest.00411 Bruised Algerian.00412 Bubblegum.00413 Burgundy Babe.00414 Butterscotch.00415 Buzzkill.00416 C-Word.00417 Café Crème.00418 Candy Apple.00419 Catfight.00420 Cheery Cherry.00421 Cherry.00422 Cherry Bomb.00423 Cherry Popper.00424 Cherry Red.00425 Cherrywood.00426 Chili.00427 Cinnamon.00428 Cinnamon Rose.00429 Cobweb.00430 Cocktease.00431 Coconut.00432 Coffee Addict.00433 Cola.00434 Copper Coin.00435 Copper Dust.00436 Coral Rose.00437 Corpse.00438 Cosmopolitan.00439 Cotton Candy.00440 Cranberry.00441 Crème Brûlée.00442 Crush.00443 Crushed Berry.00444 Daddy's Girl.00445 Dark Diva.00446 Dark Side.00447 Decay.00448 Deep Coral.00449 Devil Woman.00450 Diva.00451 Do It to Me.00452 Dolce Vita.00453 Dominatrix.00454 Dreamy Peach.00455 Dusty Rose.00456 Edible Rose.00457 Empowered.00458 F**k Me.00459 Fairest One.00460 Fire Engine.00461 Flame.00462 Flesh.00463 Forbidden.00464 Foreplay.00465 Freckle.00466 Fresh Moroccan.00467 Frosted Grape.00468 Gash.00469 Girl Trouble.00470 Girlish.00471 Girly.00472 Gold Digger.00473 Gold Dust.00474 Grape.00475 Guava Kiss.00476 Harlow Gold.00477 Hit Me.00478 Honeyflower.00479 Honeyplum Glow.00480 Hot Pink.00481 Hussy.00482 I'm Easy.00483 Indecent.00484 Ingenue.00485 Jailbait.00486 Jilted.00487 Juicy.00488 Jungle Red.00489 Just Peachy.00490 Just Red.00491 Kiss of Death.00493 Kiss Me.00492 Kitten.00494 Lady Like.00495 Lickable.00496 Lolita.00497 Lusty Lady.00498 Maiden.00499 Maple Sugar.00500 Marilyn.00501 Menstrual.00502 Merlot.00503 Mexican Spice.00504 Misfit.00505 Mocha Honey.00506 Mocha Maiden.00507 Mocha Mama.00508 Mochalicious.00509 Moll.00510 Moulin Rouge.00511 Nail Me.00512 Naughty Girl.00513 Nearly Red.00514 Nipple.00515 Only Pink.00516 Orgasm.00517 Pale Pink.00518 Parole Violator.00519 Perfect Plum.00520 Peroxide.00521 Perv.00522 Pigalle.00523 Pink Berry.00524 Pink Burst.00525 Pink Champagne.00526 Pink Flamingo.00527 Pink Heart.00528 Pink Lemonade.00529 Pink Parts.00530 Pink Princess.00531 Pink Rose.00532 Pink Sugar.00533 Pinkapalooza.00534 Pinkest.00535 Plum Brandy.00536 Plum Nude.00537 Plum Passion.00538 Plum Rose.00539 Pomegranate.00540 Porn Star.00541 Pretty in Pink.00542 Prey.00543 Princess.00544 Punk.00545 Pussy Galore.00546 Raisin 'n' Rose.00547 Ramblin' Rose.00548 Raspberry Kiss.00549 Raspberry Swoon.00550 Rated X.00551 Raven.00552 Ravishing Red.00553 Red Apple.00554 Red Devil.00555 Red Grape.00556 Red Indian.00557 Red Lizard.00558 Red Queen.00559 Red Rage.00560 Red Roses.00561 Red Rubies.00562 Red Scare.00563 Red Sherry.00564 Red Velvet.00565 Red Wine.00566 Reddest.00567 Rockin' Raisin.00568 Roman Holiday.00569 Rose Blush.00570 Rose Bouquet.00571 Rose Lust.00572 Rose Pink.00573 Rose Red.00574 Rouge.00575 Ruby.00576 Ruby Addict.00577 Ruby Kiss.00578 Rum Honey.00579 Sangria.00580 Scarlet Diva.00581 Scarlet Harlot.00582 Scheherazade.00583 Screw Me.00584 Seeing Red.00585 Sex Me.00586 Sex Offender.00587 Sexy.00588 Shrinking Violet.00589 Silver Haze.00590 Silver Moon.00591 Skinny Rose.00592 Sleeping Beauty.00593 Slutzilla.00594 Smack Dat Bitch.00595 Spice.00596 Spicy Apple.00597 Spicy Ginger.00598 Spiderwoman.00599 Starlet.00600 Statutory.00601 Stiletto.00602 Stoplight.00603 Strawberry Kisses.00604 Sugar Plum.00605 Sugared Violet.00606 Sun Kissed.00607 Sunlight.00608 Swollen Angel.0069 Tease.00610 Temptress.00611 Tequila Blossom.00612 That's Amoré.00613 Tickled Pink.00614 Tigerlily.00615 Toasted Citrus.00616 Tramp.00617 Turkish Delight.00618 Underage Red.00619 Vamp.00620 Violated.00621 Virgin Scary.00622 Violet Goddess.00623 Violet Vixen.00624 Vixen.00625 Volcanic Violet.00626 Voodoo Mama.00627 Voodoo Queen.00628 Watermelon.00629 Wedding Night.00630 Whisky Rose.00631 White Girl.00632 Wicked.00633 Wild Thing.00634 Wine-oh!.00635 Wounded.00636 Zombie.00637

Tamryn emerged with the desired bottle of perfume. “It sucks being pregnant,” she said as Julia escorted her out of the closet.

When Tamryn was gone, Julia rested her forehead on the back of the doors, closed her eyes, and said, “Cunt.”

She turned to me. “Two years ago I got my Ph.D. in women's studies. No one in this place thinks anything of the fact that I have a doctorate from a prestigious university but now I sort lipstick and mascara in a windowless closet all day. Look at me,” Julia said. “These clothes, these shoes, the highlights in my hair. Please understand that I would never dress this way.” Julia was flushed and sweaty despite the chilled air. She wiped her forehead and fanned herself, then adjusted her tool belt again. Her skin was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes, probably from spending her days in a subterranean closet, away from the sunlight. She looked like someone who worked in some sort of fashion-forward coal mine.

“What does Verena Baptist have to do with this?” I asked again.

“Nothing,” she said, taking the clipboard from me and putting it back on the hook. “No more questions right now.” She moved toward me. “Stand against the wall,” she whispered, nudging me back until I was up against the cool cinderblock. We were the same height and stood eye to eye. Julia's hair, brown with caramel highlights, fell to her shoulders in scoops. She placed her hand on my chin and tilted my head back. “Open your mouth,” she said.