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course, that he was just back from his honeymoon with wife number three, socialite Adrian Hughes, and that people were already betting on how long the marriage would last. Not that I would wager on another couple’s union. Hell, I hadn’t even bet on my own.
    Meanwhile, it turned out that the pressing matter was a personal favor, which for someone with my training meant only one thing. “Of course I’d be happy to do Adrian’s makeup,” I said. “Does she have a special event coming up?”
    Although he was sure Adrian would love to take me up on the offer, this favor was, well, bigger. Seems her daughter was interested in learning the makeup trade and Adrian would be so grateful if I took Sierra under my wing for a little while. “Sierra?” I winced. “As in Madre?”
    Thing about being asked a loaded question by Simon is thatit is never multiple choice. More like fill-in-the-blank with only one right answer. Whatever Simon says you do. Still, he couldn’t expect me to say yes without clarification. Were we talking a few days? A few weeks? Did she have experience? Did she understand she’d have to be at work before dawn?
    Given the chance, I would have marked his answers wrong. Sierra was a twenty-two-year-old college dropout who moved to New York with her mother only because the judge at her bail hearing remanded her to parental supervision due to her inability to function outside rehab.
    “Look, I’m shooting straight with you Robyn. Adrian and I could really use your help here, so I’m bringing her in tomorrow. We gotta get this kid off the party wagon.”
    “The party wagon.” I gulped. “Tomorrow…Wow. So when did she become interested in makeup? Was she working in the business out in LA?”
    “That’s a no. She’s never worked.”
    “So much for comparing medical plans.”
    “What can I say? The family’s loaded. But don’t misunderstand. She’s got a lot of enthusiasm for this. You know kids. They love being around celebrities. It’s glamorous.”
    “Not at five A.M .”
    “She’s cool with it.” He cracked his knuckles. “It’s probably when she gets in anyway. Oh, and one other thing. She has to be called by her full name.”
    “Fine. I can’t really think of any nicknames for Sierra.”
    “No, I mean her whole full name. Sierra Paige Mather.”
    “Wait. What? Why?”
    “Must be a California thing. Who the hell knows.”
    “But that’s crazy.”
    “I found if I say it really fast, Sierrapaigemather, all three names blend together like one of those long Indian names.”
    “Simon, some mornings I can barely say my own name…I’ll just call her cutie.”
    “It won’t work.”
    “Why not? Who doesn’t like being called cutie?”
    “Wait until you see her.” He puffed out his cheeks.
     
    The buzz from Gretchen’s dressing room made my stomach churn. At first I thought it was hunger pangs, as I’d been so nervous about my performance at the bar mitzvah, I hadn’t eaten a thing. But that wasn’t it. The nausea stemmed from recognizing two familiar voices.
    “Oh my God.” I walked in on my mother slathering pink lotion on Gretchen’s face. “What are you doing?”
    “I wasn’t sure how long you’d be.” Gretchen’s eyes remained closed.
    “Not you. I meant my mother. Mom, step away from the talent…”
    “Relax, Robyn. I’m very much enjoying this refreshing treatment…I understand your mother taught you everything you know about makeup artistry.”
    “That’s right.” My mother winked. “Dear, I noticed you’re out of witch hazel. Remember I told you, always keep an extra bottle on hand. It does wonders for—”
    “Thanks Mom. Really. You’ve been a huge help…Do you remember where the greenroom is? I think you’ll be more comfortable in there.”
    “Don’t be silly,” Gretchen said. “We were just chatting about mah-jongg. I haven’t played in years…used to love the game.”
    “I was just saying how I’m moving in with you. Temporarily,