Diary of an Ugly Duckling by Langhorne, Karyn (general ebook reader .txt) đź“•
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catch the last flight out of LaGuardia tonight? I’ll set
up all your meetings for tomorrow and we’ll put you
on a plane back to New York tomorrow night. Can
you do it?”
“What do you mean you’re going to California?”
Edith said slowly. She’d already slipped off her
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
91
shoes and dug into the plate of beef noodle casserole
Audra had left for her. “You don’t know anybody in
California—”
“You don’t know who I know,” Audra told her.
“Besides, I’m not asking for your permission. I’m a
grown woman. I’m telling you: I’m going to Califor-
nia and we need to work out how we’re going to
take care of Kiana while I’m gone.”
Edith quirked an eyebrow at her and frowned.
They weren’t getting along any better, but at least
things were no longer alternating between yelling
and screaming and frosty silence.
“I suppose I can ask the Quintanas to watch her
until I get home from the salon,” she muttered, her
eyes still fixed dubiously on Audra. “How long you
gonna be gone?”
“Call them.” Audra waved the phone under her
mother’s nose and glanced at her watch again.
“What’s the hurry? What’s going on?” She sur-
veyed Audra. “You’re not running out to Holly-
wood for some old-time movie fantasy bullshit, are
you?”
“No, Ma—”
Edith peered at her, taking in her faded sweats and
comfortably ripped T-shirt before asking, “You ain’t
going out there to meet a man, are you? You’re on the
computer all the time these days. You meet someone
on the Internet? Is he out in California? Because if
that’s what’s going on, you need to watch yourself.
Just because you lost a few pounds doesn’t mean
you’re some Hollywood diva, ready to handle your-
self around some man you’ve never even met—”
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Karyn Langhorne
Audra slammed the phone back down and
whirled on her. “You were always nagging on me to
lose some weight. Then when I lose some, you ac-
cuse me of being full of myself?” Audra rolled her
eyes. “What do you want from me? Make up your
mind, Ma!”
Edith frowned. “Well, sure, the weight loss looks
good, but—you know what I’m saying.” She hesi-
tated. “After that fiasco with that guy from your job
I’d think you’d learn your lessons about pinning
your hopes on men you hardly know.” She crinkled
her nose into her forehead with the effort of mem-
ory. “What was his name? Art something—”
Audra stiffened. She had barely seen Art Bradshaw
since that night, now that she’d been reassigned to
another shift. He hadn’t made any efforts to get in
touch, either.
Which was just fine, Audra told herself. One less
distraction. And thinking about his daughter, Es-
meralda Prince and that awful night at that cavelike
bar made it easy to wolf down lettuce leaves and
fruit instead of cookies.
“This has nothing to do with Art Bradshaw,” she
told her mother.
“I knew it!” Edith proclaimed, nodding vehe-
mently. “Some Internet guy—”
Audra shook her head. “No guys, Internet or oth-
erwise. I’ve sworn off.”
“Then why you gotta go to California?”
Audra gave a noncommittal shrug that she knew
would drive the older woman absolutely crazy.
“You got your secrets . . . I got mine.” She picked up
the phone again. “Now, if you don’t mind, please
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
93
dial the number. I’m leaving right now. There’s a cab
waiting for me downstairs.”
Which was how Audra ended up on a late flight
from LaGuardia to LAX, ensconced in a first-class
seat with only her little black bag and a stack of
fashion magazines as companions. Inside the bag
were a change of panties and a toothbrush.
Audra pushed any thoughts of Art Bradshaw or
her mother to the back of her mind and focused on
the magazines in front of her with the diligence of a
law student preparing for the bar exam. Shamiyah
had given her an assignment—to find the image or
collection of images that would make up her ideal
face and body for final “Reveal” . . . and she was de-
termined to show the folks at Ugly Duckling exactly
what kind of diligence they’d get if they picked one
Audra Marks for their television show.
The plane touched down only minutes before
midnight. A man in a black, liveried car service uni-
form and holding a small sign bearing the words
a. marks stood waiting at attention as though ex-
pecting royalty.
“That’s me,” Audra said stepping up to him. “I’m
Audra Marks.”
The thin man looked her up and down, from her
short, scraggly hairdo to her rumpled black pants as
though he considered her highly unlikely in every
aspect of the word. Audra stored up the look,
adding it to the stockpile of images that was her
daily fuel and waited for him to get himself together.
“Your luggage?” He asked in a voice like the ob-
sequious servants in Audra’s ancient movies. Audra
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Karyn Langhorne
couldn’t help but wonder if he spent hours listening
to himself on a tape recorder to get that sound.
“This is it,” Audra patted her little black duffel.
“I’m all set. I mean—” She attempted a jovial smile
just to see if this little man would answer it with a
smile of his own. “Hey, it’s just one night, right?”
“Of course,” he agreed blankly, reaching for the
black duffel.
“That’s okay. I got it,” Audra told him, tugging
the thing just out of his reach.
Once again the thin man looked her over with an
expression of indifference mixed with disapproval.
Apparently, he preferred women to arrive with a full
set of luggage for him to carry and a toy poodle yap-
ping in a handbag. But all he said was, “Very well,
madam. Follow me, please.”
It was after midnight Los Angeles time and even
later in Audra’s mind when they drove off the
grounds of the sprawling airport and hit one of the
city’s many freeways. Grateful not to have to navi-
gate her way to the hotel on her own, Audra sank
back in the dark leather seat of the car and closed
her eyes. Perhaps tomorrow she’d have a few min-
utes to herself to see something of the sights of L.A.,
but for now she wanted nothing more than to lay
her head on a soft pillow somewhere and sleep.
When at last they pulled
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