Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
“What made you change your mind?” Holli hated admitting that she was wrong, so it must have been something pretty serious.
“It was when Deja called me out on something I hadn’t even realized.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“My feelings have been hurt for like, five months,” I pointed out.
“Okay.” She exhaled loudly then admitted, “I’m jealous, okay? You don’t have any responsibilities anymore. You don’t have to worry about bills, you don’t have to worry about grocery shopping or rent or how you’re going to pay for your wedding. I mean, I’m not doing terrible or anything. I’m actually doing better than I ever have. But during a financially tight spot for us, I sat there and watched you buy a purse that cost more than I make in a year, like it was nothing. So, I’m jealous of that.”
I didn’t know how to address this, when it was laid out so plainly in front of me. “First of all, I still have responsibilities.” That had been what had bothered me the most, so I wanted to get it out of the way. “Maybe my survival doesn’t depend on my paycheck, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to work and make a life of my own.”
“I figured that out when you and Deja started talking about a magazine. You’re not just doing that because you feel bad that she got fired, right?” Holli tilted her head in an expression of mild suspicion.
I scrunched up my face. “No. If you haven’t noticed, I’m persona non grata in the fashion journalism world, too.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got your whole book thing.” She sat up straighter. “How is that going, by the way? I saw that it made the New York Times list.”
“It did. We had cake.” God, that sounded so stupid. Like I didn’t even care about my success. But I didn’t, and Holli was probably the only person on the planet who would understand that. “The writing thing isn’t for me. At least, not memoirs. Not books at all. It’s so lonely working by yourself, and the constant second-guessing.”
“Yikes.” Her eyebrows rose as she took a sip of coffee.
“I just need to get back to doing what I’ve always wanted to do. I know how it sounds to say, “Oh, I’ll just walk away from this amazing opportunity that millions of people are working hard for every day, but it wasn’t really my success. People bought that book because of who it was about, not who wrote it. And I don’t want that. I want to build something from the ground up.”
“You’re preaching to the choir. I wouldn’t be able to live my life without modeling. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I know I say I could quit at any time, but I’m addicted.” A flash of trouble squinted her eyes. “It’s harder now, though. More competitive. Before last year, I could take any job. I could do car shows, or stock photography shoots. Now that I’ve walked in a couple major shows and done a huge print campaign, I can’t go back to that other stuff. But there are hundreds of other models at my level who have more experience, and more practice navigating the industry. I feel like a little fish in a big pond, and the big pond has fewer job opportunities.”
“I’m sorry, Holli. I wish I had known.”
“Well, I didn’t tell you. I need to be better about that. Trust me, Deja has informed all about my uncommunicative tendencies.” Holli rolled her eyes. “Can we just be friends again? I know it’s not fair to put you on the spot like this—?”
“Yes, oh my god, yes.” I almost lunged across the table to hug her. “I need you. You’re one of the most important people in my life—”
“It was like getting my arm cut off in a freak elevator accident,” she finished for me, in the way only Holli could describe something. “And you weren’t going to be at my wedding.”
“When are you getting married?” I hoped it wasn’t very soon; I would need time to warm Neil up to the idea of going. Not that my going would be dependent on his attendance. If he didn’t want to be there, then that was his problem.
“August twenty-third,” she squealed. “Oh, Sophie. You should see the venue. We’re getting married at the Tribeca Rooftop. Deja’s dad is loaded. I mean, not Sophie Elwood loaded—”
“Sophie Scaife, thank you very much.”
“You know what I meant. Anyway, he’s paying half, and Gabriella is paying the rest.” Holli did a little happy dance in her chair. “It’s going to be romantic. You should see our dresses!”
“I can’t wait!” I was so happy our fight was behind us, but the victory was tinged with sadness. “I wish I could have been there for you.”