Page 94 of My Lucky Star
Cem headed to the stairs, taking us up three stories. One side of the staircase was open, revealing the smallest inner courtyard I’d ever seen, with nothing but grass and rubbish on the bottom. A few windows dotted along the walls offered the neighbors clear views of each other’s bedrooms. Everything looked original, but in a rather creepy way.
We reached a heavy-looking door with iron bars, and Cem knocked. After a moment, footsteps echoed on the other side and the door creaked open.
Light from the apartment flooded the dim stairwell and gave a golden halo to a small woman of my age who beamed at us. “Cembey!Hosgeldiniz!”
That’s as far as I could follow, before the conversation became a happy flow of foreign babble. Melis had dark curls and a round face and wore a beautifully tailored pantsuit with a low-cut silk top. Its wild pattern gave off an artistic vibe and perfectly matched the mood of the apartment.
Turkish rugs and chandeliers dominated the hallway. We left our shoes at the door but weren’t offered slippers. Faint cigarette smoke, mixed with something sweet, lingered in the air. As in Cem’s house, various wall and ceiling lamps, all lit, filled my vision, but here, the decor was a mix of historic and eclectic. I could have studied the overload of colors, patterns and art for hours, but hearing my name, I tried to refocus.
“Allah, Allah!It’s Burcu! But not.” Melis stared at me for a moment in stunned silence, then gave me a delighted smile. “So nice to meet you, Aria! I’m Melis.” She leaned in to kiss my cheeks and gave me a hug.
I returned her warm greeting somewhat awkwardly. “You, too! Thank you for... whatever you’re doing for us.”
“Oh, you thank me later. If it works out!” She let out a bubbly laugh and guided us into the living room. Another huge chandelier hung from the ceiling and a long, plush, orange couch ran along two walls. Right in the middle stood a clothing rack bursting with bold colors. Scary colors.
Emir dropped onto the couch, pulling his laptop from the bag he always carried. “You have an hour before the hairdresser gets here. You need to find something for Soho House,” he told Melis.
“It’s a high-end restaurant. Requires membership,” Cem explained without a hint of enthusiasm.
I nodded in terror, and he took my hand. He’d been holding my hand almost nonstop, probably enough to qualify as clingy. But as soon as he let go, I missed his strong, warm grasp. Maybe I was the clingy one.
“Relax,” he whispered. “We’ll get through this, and then...” He looked over his shoulder at Emir, his face conflicted.
I knew he wanted to look beyond this, imagining a future where everything was different. But if we succeeded and he got the role, I couldn’t see myself fitting into his plan, no matter how much he wanted to believe so. Still, I’d be part of his journey and that had to be enough.
Melis gave us a meaningful look, grabbed the clothing rack and wheeled it out the door, gesturing for me to follow. “We’ll be in the bedroom.Görüsürüz.”
I gave Cem a quick smile before I slipped away. This was it. I would transform into Burcu and take the deception to the next level.
The bedroom delivered another explosion of color with a deep red bedspread and a matching art print with wild, intertwined flower shapes in place of a headboard. “Is it yours?” I pointed at the artwork. “It’s beautiful.”
Melis’s eyes brightened. “I was supposed to sell it, but I couldn’t. So, I sold the headboard.” Her laugh was a little sad.
She had a resilient, no-nonsense air about her I instantly liked.
I glanced at the skimpy dresses, staring at me in yellow, gold and the kind of green they keyed out in movies. The kind of dresses that needed silicon straps to stay on hangers. I’d watched enough of Cem’s TV show to know that Burcu was a size or two smaller than me. “I’m not sure I can fit into any of these. Can you show me the one that’s the most... forgiving?”
Melis laughed. “These are not for comfort. Think of it like wearing a piece of art. You become part of the creation.” She gestured wildly with her hand, like painting something on a canvas.
I swallowed, resigning to my fate.
After half an hour of grueling fitting room work, I’d lightly destroyed one dress and discarded two that neither of us could zip up. Feeling like the Christmas ham, I accepted the next option – the golden evening gown with an incredibly deep V neckline. “Is the idea to show my bellybutton?” I asked.
“Shush.” Melis waved her finger. “It’s not that bad. We’ll add some tape.”
“What, to extend the material?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, to keep it from slipping.”
I sighed. “If all else fails, maybe you can cover me with the tape?”
She shook her head and released a deep sigh. “I need to make some tea,” she announced and left me with the dress.
“Sorry, I’m very tired,” I mumbled at her receding back. I’d lost all control over my behavior. The jet lag had returned, making it hard to stand upright. I kept eyeing the bed, wishing I could keel over, but I was also hungry, and a restaurant had been mentioned. Although, it was probably a pretentious establishment with tiny portions.
To my immense relief, the golden dress fit. It wasn’t as short as the others, but the deep neckline meant I couldn’t wear a bra.
Hearing Melis re-entering the room, I stepped out from behind the clothing rack, my only privacy screen, channeling all that was left of my inner goddess.
