Craving Perfect (18 page)

The sooner I got used to being Callie Collins and applying the right shade of lip gloss for my skin type, the better. Hey, I got everything I ever wanted—the beauty, the body, even the boyfriend. Why should I be worried about a guy I only dated once?

“Thanks, Kirk.” I swallowed hard again. “I’ll be at Mario’s. No problem.”

“Well, let me know if you want to make any changes. We can always send someone else.” His tone was doubtful.

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

Kirk nodded, scribbled something on his clipboard, and turned to leave.

“One last thing,” I said.

Kirk turned, and then Julie. Kirk’s glance met mine, his eyes posed above his clipboard while Julie stopped brushing my cheekbones with an enormous feathery brush that, frankly, tickled.

I felt a sheepish grin spread across my face. “Do you two like scones?”

Julie followed me from my dressing room into the studio, presumably to apply another layer of blush to the two layers already shellacked to my face.

No doubt I needed it.

Standing before cameras tended to drain the blood from my face. Delivering the weather was definitely out of my comfort zone. And now I had two minutes to figure out how to use something called a green screen. I’d heard the production crew talking about it the last time I was on the set.

Don’t faint. Don’t faint. You can’t faint,
I chanted to myself as I listened to my heels click against the white tiled floor from my dressing room all the way to Studio 1.
And don’t forget you’re Callie Collins! You can do this. You’ve got to do this.

I tried desperately to channel the
real
Callie Collins, along with all of her broadcasting expertise, because I was pretty sure she was stellar in front of cameras and chatting with millions of people as they sipped their coffee and ate their microwavable meals. At a time like this, it didn’t help much that my best skill was baking the perfect pastry.

I lifted my chin and continued to concentrate on breathing, mindful of my hyperventilation tendencies. Mercifully, this time around, the hot bright room loaded with black and white electrical cords, cameras, and wires didn’t seem so foreign. Maybe this time it wouldn’t end so badly.

I swallowed and rubbed my hands together to stop the trembling.

“You sit over there, Callie,” Julie prodded gently. She motioned to the chair behind the anchor desk in the middle of the room. Three people buzzed behind the desk as they checked and double-checked two green screens that looked like a giant Etch-A-Sketch.

“Anything wrong?” Julie asked.

“No,” I exhaled. “Not really. I always get a little jittery just before I go on.”

Julie shrugged her shoulders. “Only natural, I suppose.”

With my breathing still in check, I made it to the chair and sank down. The same tall, bearded guy from the last time sprinted across the floor.

“Hey, Callie. You ready?” His question was rhetorical. Instead of waiting for my honest answer, he fastened a tiny microphone to my collar. It felt like a noose. “Hey, Julie.” He nodded at her.

“Whassup,” Julie said, removing a tube of foundation from her make-up bag. “Just need to do a quick touch-up.”

“No problemo,” he said. “We’ve got a few minutes.” He turned to me. “You’re all on your own today. Kirk told you, right?”

I nodded.

“Good. Even got you doing the weather.” Big smile.

“Yeah, about that…” I began.

“David! Come take a look at this,” bellowed a voice from behind one of the cameras. “Not sure if we got Camera A on-line or not.”

David sprinted to the back of the room and started examining a clump of twisted wires as thick as a tree trunk. I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him.

“Don’t worry, Callie,” Julie whispered. “You’ll do fine.” She dabbed my forehead with a pink sponge.

“Thanks.” I forced a grin but my voice cracked a little. “All I’ve got to do is read the teleprompter, right?” I paused. “How hard can that be?”

“How would I know?” Julie winked at me. “I just make you look pretty.” She patted my shoulder and stepped off the platform. “Hey, don’t forget about those scones. Raspberry is my favorite.”

My chest lifted. If I got through this newscast, I’d make myself a double batch of raspberry scones. Triple! In fact, that would be the new deal I’d make with myself. If I didn’t pass out over the empty folders strewn strategically across my anchor desk every day, I’d treat myself to a raspberry scone and no one had to know. My little secret. That seemed like a fair trade.

I drew back another breath through my teeth.

“Okay, people. Let’s get this party started!” David yelled from behind one of the cameras, raising his hand in front of him like a New York traffic cop. “We’re on in five…four…three…two…” He held up his forefinger and pointed to the teleprompter.

“Good afternoon, everybody,” I heard myself say. “Welcome to KSUN News and thanks for joining us today. I’m Callie Collins. Sean McCarthy has the day off.”

So far, so good.

But inside, my chest pounded like a stampede. I licked my lips, tasting gloss, and continued to read the teleprompter. David motioned to another camera with a flashing red light above it.

Instinctively, I turned—not flawlessly, but I turned.

“Here are the top stories today…” My dry eyelids reminded me that blinking was important. Never mind that the bright camera lights made it like staring into the center of the sun.

David folded his arms across his chest and smiled while he listened. I took this as a positive sign. At least I hadn’t fainted. Or vomited. There was still time, though.

I still had to do the weather.

“The mayor of Phoenix traveled to Washington D.C. today…” my voice continued, “where he met with members of Congress…”

It was like having an out of body experience but somehow I made it to the first commercial break before I took a much-needed deep breath. It was probably the longest five minutes of my life. I barely remembered what scrolled across the teleprompter.

“How’d I do?” I half collapsed over the desk as David leaned his thigh against it.

“You’re doing fine, Callie.” He nodded encouragingly as Julie dabbed my face again with another tiny sponge. “You’ll do the weather after the break.”

Julie then proceeded to comb my hair away from my eyes. More hairspray. My nose wrinkled at the toxic chemicals swirling about my face.

“Yeah, about that…” I said, trying to find the right words as I struggled against the aerosol. “I had a thought. I was thinking—”

“Hold that thought, Callie.” David lifted from the desk like he’d been shot with a Taser. “We’re back, people!” He tapped his earpiece and raised his other hand in front of him as he counted down from three and sprinted behind the camera.

I cleared my throat. “Welcome back, everybody, and thanks for staying with us.” Like before, my eyes remained superglued to the teleprompter. David put his forefingers on either side of his mouth, a reminder to smile.

I smiled. Sort of. My cheeks felt like they were cracking beneath all the make-up.

I cleared my throat again. “We’ve got a beautiful day for you today. Highs today into the 70’s, lows dipping into the 50’s.”

David’s eyes grew bigger as he pointed to one of the green screens behind me, but I didn’t budge from the desk. I didn’t push away from my chair. Or stand.

I couldn’t.

Blame it on yellow sandals. And my wobbly knees.

My hands gripped the corners of the desk like it was a buoy in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I was planted in my chair and staying put.

I ignored David’s stunned expression and continued to read the teleprompter. There was no way I was going to stand in front of those screens and point to states and maps and arrows and low pressure squiggly lines like I knew what I was doing. At best, I’d look like an escaped chimpanzee doped on Red Bull.

“Tonight, look for clear skies, low humidity and very little wind…” I smiled sweetly as David’s eyes turned into the equivalent of a major freak out.

Jeez, he was pissed.

But he continued to listen; I didn’t give him any other choice. I imagined that he was secretly contemplating what bodily harm to do to me once I finished the weather report.

“Stay with us, folks. We’ll be back right after this short commercial break.” I tilted my head and gave the cameras a final smile before the red light above the camera turned off.

As soon as it did, my head dropped to my desk, landing on the fake wood with a soft
thump
.

I did it…I did it!
I screamed inside my head.
I actually freaking did it!

David stormed over to my desk. “What was that all about?”

I lifted my head.

“Why didn’t you walk over to the map?” His eyes blazed. “We had all four of them ready to go for you. All you had to do was point.”

Despite three layers of lip gloss and lip liner, my lips, like my throat, tasted dry. “I wore yellow sandals today.”

“What?” He stepped back, his eyes lowering to my feet.

“I wore the wrong shoes.” My shoulders shrugged. “Would have looked bad.”

David rolled his eyes. “The audience doesn’t see your feet, Callie. You know that! They don’t see anything below your waist.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

I felt my face drain. Had he realized that I was an imposter? I swallowed. “Well, I get tired of watching the weather people stand
in front of
the maps. I’d rather
see
the maps. Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t our viewers? The weathermen are always standing in front of all the good parts, like tomorrow’s temperatures.” It was sort of true. And it was the best excuse that I could dream up on short notice.

David shook his head, annoyed. “Yeah, well your audience tunes in to see
you
, not the maps. Next time you decide to play producer, how about giving me a heads-up, okay?” His eyes demanded my agreement.

“Sorry, David. You’re right. I should’ve let you know. My bad.”

With his jaw still clenched, he stormed back to his place behind the camera where he counted down the last segment of the half-hour program.

And all I could think of was, I did it. Grace Mills did it.

Sure, I may have been the new resident of Callie Collins’s body, but it was all me behind the laminate-oak desk with the empty prop folders. I actually did the news, even the weather, and I didn’t stumble, faint, or vomit. Maybe being a news anchor and weather girl wasn’t such a bad gig after all.

I leaned back in the chair and allowed myself a tiny, contented sigh. If only my college Communications professor could have seen me, the same one who gave me a D for my oral presentation on Indian cuisine. Looking back, I deserved the grade. It probably didn’t help that I’d vomited in his trash can prior to delivering my speech, which really wasn’t much of a speech. I more or less just read a few recipes out loud to the class.

David’s fingers finished the countdown. I could already taste a raspberry scone. Maybe even two. And I wouldn’t be stingy with the powdered sugar either. That was a given.

Still beaming from my first (mostly) successful newscast, I opened my dressing room door to find a bouquet of irises waiting for me. They fanned out inside a crystal vase on a table near the window. The fresh aroma competed with the other toxic smells that had already taken up residence in the room. But I could still smell the flowers. Next to lavender, irises were my favorite. How would anyone know that?

Perched in the middle of the flowers was a business card with my name in small print. I plucked out the card.

“Alexandra?” I plopped down into my chair and kicked off my shoes. “Well, that’s different.” I didn’t know she had it in her.

Fingering the note, I suddenly felt guilty. I’d been treating her so coldly since I stepped off the treadmill the second time.

I reached inside my purse and pulled out a pink cell phone. I didn’t know her phone number but, as expected, Alexandra’s phone number was on speed-dial. She probably put it there.

I pressed the number
2
key and waited for the ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Alexandra. It’s Gr—” I stopped myself. “It’s Callie. I just got your flowers. They’re lovely. You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

“No trouble, silly. Just wanted to say I’m sorry about this morning. I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about the calorie diary.” A male cough filled the background before Alexandra muffled the mouthpiece.

“Sorry. You’ve got company. I’ll call back—”

“No biggie.” Her tone was uncharacteristically sweet.

“Well, I just wanted to say that I should be the one apologizing. I know you were only looking out for me. Anyway, the flowers are beautiful and we’re absolutely still friends. No harm done.” My eyes drifted to the infamous calorie counter diary in the silver can next to my dressing table. I padded over and plucked it from the trash. “Hey, where are you, anyway? We missed you on the set today.” Well, maybe just I did.

Alexandra cleared her throat. “I decided to take the day off to do some shopping. Hope you don’t mind, but I do some of my best thinking when I shop. It’s my mental therapy.” She laughed but even for Alexandra it seemed a little forced around the edges.

“No problem. Hope you’re having a nice time.”

“Fab. Hey, how’d the newscast go?”

“Went well, I think. I didn’t faint this time.”

Alexandra sighed. “Callie, you’ve only done the news a million times. Enough with the fainting, already.”

“Yeah, well, I was under the weather the other day.” I paused to wrinkle my nose. “Sorry about the pun.”

Silence.

Alexandra didn’t get my pun. We’d have to work on that. More baby steps…

Instead, she asked, “So, what’s on tap for tonight? Maybe I could get us a couple of appointments at the tanning salon? We haven’t been in a while.”