“Still…” My sister shrugs.
I don’t bother to point out she didn’t go either, since it’ll only escalate into a battle, with three of them ganging up on me. She barely finished high school, as her modeling career kept her too busy for something as plebian as going to school.
“Does it matter? With Josh wrapped around your fingers, surely he’ll give her some slack,” Mom tells Katt.
“I’ve been working for him for three years.” It’s like I’m talking to an empty room—nobody’s looking at me.
“There are plenty of younger and prettier assistants,” Dad says finally, swallowing a prawn.
It’s very difficult to grind your teeth while smiling. “Assistants actually have to be able to perform.”
Mom snorts. “How hard can grabbing coffee be? And doesn’t AI do everything else? Once they figure out a way to get computers to brew coffee, you won’t have a job.”
“Please.” Katt places a hand over Mom’s arm. “Let’s not be so judgmental. Besides, it’s better that she works for Josh. I can trust her to keep an eye on him, if you know what I mean. Even if he means to stay faithful, there might be other women trying to seduce him.”
The dismissively stated truth lances my heart. I hold my breath for a moment to contain the pang. I’ve been working so hard to get over my unrequited crush on Josh, and every time I think I’m making progress, something happens to show that I’m not. Still, Iwillget over it. It’s for my own good—my own mental and emotional health.
But first, I have to stop Katt and Mom. Otherwise, they’ll continue and plan out the entire wedding between her and Josh, and I’m not ready to smile through it yet. “Anyway, when are you going to know for sure about the role?” I change the subject to something the family can’t resist.
Katt immediately perks up. “Hopefully in the next month or two.”
“That’s amazing.”Go on. Keep talking about yourself.
“Maybe Katt can get you on as an extra. Help you break into the business,” Mom says, leaning forward.
“If Ted Lasker needs somebody who can grind her teeth and smile at the same time…” I say, doing exactly that.
Mom laughs, oblivious. “That’s just someone with a freak talent, not anactress.”
“Yeah. Wonder what that would make the person’s mother?” I say sweetly.
“Probably somebody just as freaky, but sometimes kids never end up the way you want.” Mom looks at Katt indulgently. Dad nods before grabbing more fried rice.
I just refill my empty teacup. I should be used to this more. Katt’s prettier and more successful. More confident too, and acts cute and spoiled around them like a little puppy princess. I’m the opposite. Not pretty enough, not tall enough, not thin enough. Not very bright, either. Too stiff, too awkward. And when I speak my mind, I apparently sound like a bitch, so I’d better think twice before saying anything.
I study my family. They’re chatting and laughing, glowing like the happiest family in the world. I might as well be an outsider.
Maybe the problem is me. I don’t fit in, like a glob of wasabi in a taco.
It’s okay,I tell myself. Soon, I’m going to have my own family, where I won’t be wasabi. I’ll be cheese. Or guacamole. Chad doesn’t make me feel excluded. I feel okay around him.
“Excuse me,” comes a hesitant voice. A visibly pregnant brunette in a wine-colored empire dress stops next to Katt with a slight smile. Her cheeks are flushed, and she bites her lower lip. “You’re Katt Klein, right?”
“Yes.” My sister’s expression couldn’t be more gracious. She believes in maintaining an angelic public persona.
“Ohwow! I’mreallysorry to interrupt. I kept thinking and debating, but I just couldn’t resist. Is it okay if I ask you to sign this for me?” The woman pushes out all the words in a breathless rush, then pulls a pastel-pink onesie and permanent marker out of a glossy white paper bag. “You’re myfavoritemodel.”
Katt beams. Nothing makes her happier than people’s adoration. “Of course. What’s your name?”
“Autumn.” The woman is absolutely crimson with shy joy.
My parents nod with approval. “We hope your baby will be as wonderful as our Katt,” Mom says.
“Oh, is this a family dinner?” The woman grows even more flustered. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. We love meeting Katt’s fans,” Dad says with a broad grin.
My sister autographs the onesie with a flourish. “Here you go. Want to take a picture too?”
