isn’t
like they show it in movies.” Mila shook her head. “I used to watch that show, Sex
and the City , and think that if only I made it to New York, life could be
like that.”
“With your looks you could be a model or
an actress,” Janet offered. Flattery was always a good way to get a person to
open up, but in this case she was speaking the truth: Mila was drop dead
gorgeous.
“That’s what I thought, but all the
modeling agencies are of a different opinion. You can forget about acting; the
competition is literally cutthroat. There are girls working at Panther who are
way better-looking than me, and if they can’t get a break, I might as well
forget about it.”
“You’re very beautiful,” Janet insisted.
The waitresses at Panther were drop dead gorgeous, but Mila certainly had
nothing to complain about in the looks department.
“You’re very kind, but I think it’s
important for a girl to be honest about her looks. I’m an eight, but Clarisse,
the waitress who got all the top tables tonight, is a ten. You’re a seven and a
half.”
Janet resisted the urge to snap back.
The last thing she needed was some stupid restaurant hostess to grade her
looks, but her goal was to become Mila’s confidant, so she let it slide.
“Hey, don’t get mad. I wasn’t being mean
or anything. I think it’s important to be honest about your assets. It’s like
when you’re going into a fight, you want to know exactly what’s in your
arsenal. You are pretty, just not model material.”
“Thanks.” Janet began to wonder if maybe
Mila’s difficulty in getting her dream job had more to do with her personality
than her looks.
“I really should stop smoking.” Mila
threw away her cigarette. “I already look like crap from all the hours I’ve
been putting in.”
“Well, then there’s certainly no hope
for the rest of us,” Janet quipped. “You should see the way customers look at
you: the men’s jaws drop and the women’s eyes narrow. If that’s not enough,
Anton is head over heels for you. How long have the two of you been together?”
“About a year.”
“You don’t sound very excited about it.”
“I’m not.”
“So why are you with him then?”
“It’s a long story,” Mila shot back.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just
that I recently broke up with my boyfriend, caught him cheating with my best
friend,” Janet improvised on the spot. “If someone like you can’t meet a good
guy, what hope is there for the rest of us?”
“There’s always hope,” Mila set her lips
in a determined line. “Enough moping around. We’re going to have some fun
tonight. Remember my friend Amy I told you about? She’s going to join us for
drinks. She really knows how to party.”
Mila weaved her way through the
Meatpacking District, surely navigating its cobblestoned streets in the high
heels she had changed into after the end of her shift. Janet silently followed
Mila’s lead, deciding to suspend conversation attempts for the present. A few
minutes later Mila stopped in front of a small bar.
“This is it.” Mila pushed open the door.
The small space inside was packed to the gills. A petite redhead waved at them
from the other side of the bar.
“I see Amy’s here already. Come on!”
Mila slithered her way through the crowd, and Janet followed.
“You’re late!” the redhead mock-punched
Mila in the shoulder.
“Five minutes isn’t late. This is Janet,
the new girl I told you about.”
“Nice to meet you, Janet. I’m Amy.” She
spoke with just a hint of a brogue. Her red hair was swept up in a ponytail,
showcasing her milky white skin and cornflower blue eyes. She was probably no
more than five feet five tall, but her delicate, petite frame was exuding
boundless energy, like a spark ready to ignite into a fire at any moment.
“So nice to meet you, Amy. Mila’s told
me a lot about you.”
“Did she tell you about how we met?”
Janet shook her head.
“We waitressed at