Diary of an Ugly Duckling by Langhorne, Karyn (general ebook reader .txt) 📕

into a quick smile as he spotted Au-

dra at her place at the top of the table, but he said

nothing, just quickly took the first seat on her left.

Three more lab-coated professionals followed: a

blonde woman who looked more like a TV soap-

opera version of a doctor than most of the actual

ones Audra had met, then a gray-haired older man

with a tough action-hero physique, and last, a

stocky, barrel-chested black man whose shaved

dome of a head instantly reminded her of Art. All of

the white-coated figures looked familiar . . . but it

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was the black man who locked eyes with Audra in a

protracted stare, as if he could see through to her

skeleton.

She didn’t have time to explore that feeling, how-

ever, because following the white-coated figures was

a whole crew of others. A rangy, muscular woman

wearing the kind of crop top that only a woman

with a flat six-pack of a stomach could carry off

swept in, fussing with a straight mass of shoulder-

length black hair. She was followed by another trim

woman, her short, gray hair worn close to her head,

who seemed more interested in the sheaf of white

paper in her hand than her fellow human beings in

the room. Two more women followed her: a petite

brunette woman wearing a pair of expensive-looking

eyeglasses and a sober blue suit who smiled at Au-

dra as she took a seat by Shamiyah on the left side of

the table, and a Hispanic-looking woman with a

mass of henna-colored hair streaming down her

back. She carried a thick clipboard jammed with pa-

per and was talking a mile a minute to someone be-

hind her. That “someone” turned out to be not just a

single person but an army of young-looking men

and women holding devices of all kinds. Two black

professional cameras rested on the shoulders of two

of the men, while two others carried some kind of

sound devices that looked like sophisticated ampli-

fiers. A set of young women carried what appeared

to be microphones dangling from a couple of long

silver poles. To her surprise, there were several

younger men holding nothing at all, and what ap-

peared to be a small army of young women holding

little black boxes Audra did not recognize until they

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plopped themselves in front of each of the white-

coated figures and proceeded to open them, reveal-

ing a bigger collection of makeup, makeup brushes

and makeup paraphernalia than Audra had ever

seen outside a department store in her life.

“Shamiyah!” The Latina shouted the name, an

edge in her voice that made Audra jump in surprise.

The woman sounded like a furious drill instructor

on a bad hair day. Shamiyah popped to her feet like

an automated soldier, an expression of out-and-out

fear on her face that didn’t jibe with her earlier

confidence.

“Yes, Camilla?”

“I thought I told you to arrange the chairs so that

the cameras can get the entire panel at once—”

“I tried but—”

“I don’t want to hear that! I want to see the chairs

arranged so the camera can pick up the entire panel

at once!” Camilla nearly shouted, snapping her fin-

gers with impatience.

“But—” Shamiyah began again until Camilla shot

her a withering look. Shamiyah folded her lips.

“That’s my fault,” the black-haired doctor said

mildly, rising. “I asked if we could hold this meet-

ing here because my schedule is so tight . . . but the

table’s not long enough for us to get that kind of

shot, Camilla. Do you think we can figure out an-

other way to get what you need?” His eyes flickered

around the room again. “I see you’ve got two cam-

eras, so, maybe we can station one guy at each end

of the room and—”

“Thanks, Alan. I’m sure we’ll figure something

out,” Camilla gave him a warm enough smile, shot

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115

Shamiyah another evil glance, then addressed the

production crew. “Maybe if we can station cameras

at both ends of the room?” She offered, repeating the

good doctor’s suggestion verbatim. “Don’t worry

about the images on the TV, we can edit them in

later. And for the most part, let’s not worry about

shooting the subject. If we use this footage at all, it

will be for the segment when the panel of experts

discusses the necessary changes, so what she says

won’t matter—”

“Camilla!” Shamiyah hissed, jerking her head to-

ward Audra.

Camilla stared blankly at her like she had no idea

what Shamiyah’s problem might be.

“Uh . . . this is Audra Marks,” she offered in a

prompting sort of tone as if to remind the woman

that her “subject” had a name.

Audra prepared her face for greeting . . . but the

woman never even turned in her direction.

“I know who she is,” Camilla said, taking the first

seat on Audra’s right and leaning back to allow a

young makeup artist with blue dye spiking her hair

to do her thing. “We’ll tape an introduction when

she arrives for surgery,” she muttered as the girl dot-

ted and dabbed and swiped colors over her face.

“That’s supposed to be our first meeting, and it’ll be

more authentic that way.”

“But—”

Camilla waved her fingers in impatient dismissal.

“She’s just here for us to look at today,” she snapped.

“If she doesn’t agree to the proposal, we’re not go-

ing to take her anyway, so—”

“So, the sooner we get on with the discussion

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process, the better for all involved,” interrupted a

sonorous male voice.

The entire table seem to turn as a group toward

the speaker. Audra knew without having heard it

before that the voice belonged to the black doctor.

“You’re absolutely right, Dr. Jamison,” Camilla

said, using her deferential tone again. She shoved

the makeup girl aside and tossed her mane of

thick hair again before opening her notebook. She

snapped her fingers, shooing the makeup crew out

of the room, and summoning Shamiyah to her side

in a single gesture. Taking her cue, Shamiyah pro-

ceeded to dole out several small folders to the men

and women seated around the table as though she

were the secretary, and not a producer in her own

right. Audra watched in confusion, feeling once

again that nagging uncertainty, but she kept her

mouth shut.

“I trust you’ve all had a chance