Page 132 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“She’s going to fixthatin five minutes?” Evelyn says under her breath.

“She’s a miracle worker with the makeup,” Sadie says.

I glance at Deirdre, who gives me a kind nod, and I rush off toward Belinda.

“I’m not sure what you can really do,” I say. “I fell asleep on a paint tarp.”

“Yes. We all saw that.”

There’s a noted change in her voice. It’s not... harsh.

“You might’ve cast me as the Evil Stepmother, but today I’m your fairy godmother.” She starts toward the stage door that leads downstairs to the dressing rooms. “I’ve got makeup downstairs. You’ll look, well,aliveat least, in no time.”

I rush behind her, trying to keep up and finding I’m getting surprisingly out of breath. I wonder why, out of everyone who lives at Sunset Hills, I’m the one in the worst shape.

Once we’re downstairs, Belinda opens the door to one of the small dressing rooms and pulls a bin off the shelf. She points to a chair and flips on the bulb lights around the mirror. “Sit.”

I do as I’m told, watching as she starts pulling makeup from the bin. “Why are you helping me?”

“No talking,” she says. “Down here, I’m the one in charge.”

I press my lips together to conceal a smile.

She pulls out a bottle of foundation and starts dotting it on my face with a sponge. “I was impressed with how you handled things.”

My eyes flick to hers, but she doesn’t look back. “You were?”

“Every show has its challenges. I’ve been in more than a few, as you know.”

Itfeelslike she’s trying to be nice, though she still seems to be handing me her résumé. I wonder if this is insecurity and choose to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“But a flood in the theatre? That’s a new one.” She pulls blush from the bin. “Especially for a first-time director.”

She dots the brush into the powder and starts swiping it on my cheeks.

“But you took charge,” she says. “I believe in giving credit where credit is due.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a breath mint. “You need this.”

Something about her bluntness mixes with my embarrassment, and I have to laugh. “Thanks.” I unwrap it and stick it in my mouth.

“I’ve been hard on you,” she says, sighing and still fussing over my face. “But calling your friend and getting the news here—that took guts. You’re really going to let them do a story on you?” She swipes eye shadow over my eyelids.

“If it helps the show, then yes,” I say.

She inches back, and I open my eyes. “You surprise me, Rosie Waterman.”

I smile ruefully. “You surprise me too.”

“Good.” She clicks a compact shut. “I’dhateto be predictable.” She adds a few finishing touches, and then she’s done.

I sit back and admire her work. She hands me a comb, which I run through my messy waves, and when I’m finished, I almost feel like I didn’t sleep on a hardwood floor.

I stand, and Belinda gives me a quick once-over. “I suppose that’s as good as it’s going to get.”

“Just when I thought you were nice.”

“You look thirty-foot pretty.” She quirks a brow, then explains, “Pretty from thirty feet away.”

I shake my head, but she’s not done.

---