Page 95 of When I Picture You

“I’ve seen it.” Renee fumbled for something complimentary. “It was very … affecting.”

“Please,” Tatiana snorted. “It was trash.”

“Maybe a little,” Renee agreed. “Chess Waterston directed it, right? He was almost signed on for Lola’s, but she wouldn’t work with him.”

“Lola’s a smart girl. Smarter than me. I knew Chess was skeezy. But my management loved him, and I had just gotten out of rehab. Have you been to rehab?”

Renee shook her head.

“It’s therapy seven days a week for months. When I got out and my management said a film would let me tell my own story, I thought, Perfect! My story was all I’d been thinking about.” She pointed along, spiky nail in Renee’s direction. “Do not agree to doanythingyour first week out of rehab. I gave Chess a lot more access than I should have.”

“It sounds exploitative,” Carolina said, in her Dutch accent. “I know that upsets you, but it’s important to say. In my industry, young women get taken advantage of all the time.”

“Carolina’s started an organization for model’s rights,” Lola said as an aside to Renee.

“The young women in your industry are literally children, Carolina.” Tatiana rolled her eyes. “I was twenty-six. And I’m the one making money off the doc. Was I exploiting myself?”

“You were made to do something you weren’t comfortable with.” Carolina’s eyes were enormous on her fine-boned face. “That is not right.”

“I own my bad decisions,” Tatiana said testily.

“This is why women need to fight to tell our own stories,” Rosalie interjected. “Your film should have been an empowering experience, Tatiana. But women still aren’t allowed to be the complicated, messy, authentic people we are. It’s why I always wanted to produce.”

“That’s what Renee and I are trying to do,” Lola said. “Tell my storymyway.”

“You have an incredible platform,” Rosalie said. “What are you planning to say?”

Lola adjusted her bangs and glanced at Renee.

Just tell them.

She was cut through with a sudden, piercing desire for Lola to be honest. These women wouldn’t care if she was bi. Rosalie was practically asking her directly.

Just tell them—fuck it. Tell them.

“We’re keeping that under wraps for now,” Lola said.

25

The next morning, Renee woke to Lola dropping a kiss on the back of her neck. The room was dark. She mumbled good morning but Lola had already crawled out of bed for her shower. The time change was killer. It felt like 5 a.m.

“Go back to sleep,” Lola said.

Renee rolled into the warm spot where Lola had been lying and mushed her face into the pillow. Lola’s day was packed with appointments—a meeting with the swimwear people, then shopping with her stylist before the charity gala. Renee was off until the evening.

White noise from the shower filled the room, but Renee couldn’t fall back asleep. She curled her legs up to her chest, so her body was a compact ball in the center of the bed.

She couldn’t stop thinking about last night. Leaving the restaurant, Rosalie led the way, then the newly single Lola, her arms linked with Tatiana and Carolina. Renee brought up the rear—which made sense, because the paparazzi needed their shots of the girl gang, not Lola’s documentary director. It wasn’t fair to be bothered that she hadn’t been able to hold Lola’s hand. Just like it wasn’t fair to be disappointed that Lola hadn’t told Carolina and Rosalie who Renee truly was to her.

After all, Renee had never really been in the closet like Lola was: she’d stormed out at fourteen and never looked back. She didn’t truly understand what it was like for Lola. But it still seemed to Renee that confiding in her friends would have been a reassuring first step on this journey.

Lola returned wrapped in a robe and immediately stubbed her toe on a suitcase.

“You can turn the light on,” Renee said.

“You sure? I don’t want to bother you.” Lola’s voice was hushed, though Renee was clearly awake.

Renee reached for the bedside light herself.