“Wow,” Trace gushed. “That’s awesome. I’m just a waitress...Well, you know, at least until I make it big. What about you, Calla?”
I did not want to admit the reality—that I’d been living off the modest advance for my first novel, but had recently depleted it, plunging myself into a mild financial crisis.
“Um, I’m between things right now,” I said.
Trace nudged me. “I get it. All of us hanging in the balance until we become superstars.”
“Wait, what?” The word superstar felt like an odd choice to describe a successful author.
My question hung in the air unanswered as another new arrival walked into the lounge.
A girl dressed in a flowing, all-white two-piece set waltzed in, her long black hair in braids that hung almost to her waist. “Hey everyone,” she called out. “I’m Rachel,” she greeted us, and in return, we all introduced ourselves.
I was beyond grateful she offered us each an outstretched hand instead of trying to pull us in for hugs.
“You’re stunning,” Trace said. I couldn’t help but notice Sofia eyeing Rachel up and down, sussing out the competition.
Brady stood in the entrance to the hallway. “Ladies, you’re doing great. If you could just migrate over to the couch by the fireplace and continue chatting for a few minutes, the host will be in shortly.”
“Thanks, Brady!” Trace called.
“Calla, right?” Rachel asked, as we all followed Brady’s instructions and made ourselves comfortable by the fire.
I nodded before remembering I needed to speak more. “Right.”
“You seem nervous,” she observed.
“Do I?”
“You’re balling up your fists so tight in your sweater, I’m worried you might rip it,” she pointed out.
I immediately released my hands. “I guess I am a little nervous. And right now, I’m wishing I hadn’t worn this stupid sweater.”
Rachel shrugged. “I was thinking how jealous I was of your outfit. You look comfortable.”
I stifled a groan. “You are not jealous. I look like I’m headed to the grocery store. Meanwhile, you literally look flawless.” I gestured at her.
“Thanks.” She tugged at the white fabric. “I wasn’t sure what to wear. They gave us no indication of what the first day would entail.”
“I know. I tried to get something out of Brady, but he gave me nothing,” I said as we all leaned forward in our seats. “They tried to get me to change into a dress. Like, for what?”
“Same!” Rachel exclaimed. “I didn’t want to, just in case there was some kind of surprise competition. I need to move.” She gave Sofia’s skintight dress a once-over.
Sofia giggled. “Move? All I cared about was looking as hot as possible.”
Rachel shot me a look with raised eyebrows, and I tilted my head. What kind of writing competition would involve that much movement? I looked over at Trace, who now also appeared perplexed.
“What’s all y’all’s favorite genre?” she asked after a moment of silence.
“Probably romance or fantasy?” I responded quickly.
She gave me a funny look. “I meant music, silly.”
“Oh.” It was a strange question, but I suppose it was nice to get to know these women. We’d be spending the next few weeks together, after all. “I guess I listen to mostly folk, indie-type music.”
“R&B for sure,” Rachel said.
“Pop,” Sofia said. “I’ll listen to anything that’s Top Forty.”
