Being Audrey Hepburn

“Okay, this is what I’ll do,” I heard Tabitha say as they seemed finally to have reached an agreement. Tabitha stood up, and Be

On Dr. K’s cue, Tabitha sidled up to the microphone, the way I’ve seen her do in a dozen music videos, and started to sing. But her voice was thin, even slightly off-key. Not the full-throttle vocals that I’ve listened to. I mean, I knew kids in my high school choir and had seen many others on YouTube who could sing better. Dr. K stopped her and asked her to try it again.

I peeled the label off my water bottle bit by bit as Dr. K asked her to try again and again, my image of Tabitha Eden, the big-voiced power singer who hit the money notes with phrasing and emotion, crumbling before my eyes.

“So you’ve never actually had the pleasure of hearing Tabitha sing?” Max asked behind me. He wasn’t asleep after all and must have seen how taken aback I was. I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s not really any worse than the others … Katy or Kesha,” he said. “Or Fergie, for that matter. Ever watched those YouTube vids of Britney with her onstage mic turned on? I was her lead guitarist on that tour.”

“So how does it … get better?” I asked, glad that we were outside Tabitha’s earshot.

“Auto-Tune—it’s like plastic surgery for music, and Be

Tabitha glanced back at me, and I smiled as if everything was great.

“But then if everyone does it, why does she feel so bad about it?” I asked him.

“She shouldn’t. Auto-Tune is like an effect that enables her to sing. She just hates the biz. I mean, they drive her hard, but I think they’re worried if she stops she’ll go off the deep end. And then she’s a brand, everyone’s making so much money, why stop?”

“Hold on, Tabitha,” said Be

Dr. K brought in the backup singers on the following take. Seemingly out of nowhere, Oleta burst into a rising gospel countermelody and the music came alive with soul, giving the song a feeling it didn’t have otherwise. She provided the emotional force that drove the melody, and she knew just exactly how to rock it with her voice, even cracking on the beat. The room was awash in sound—bubbly, infectious, maddeningly danceable, and suddenly soulful. Even Max couldn’t help tapping his feet. Then it stopped and started all over again.

Dr. K seemed like the crazy perfectionist, and Be

As Tabitha removed her headset and came back into the main room, Brit, the receptionist, left Tabitha another tequila.

“Hey guys, don’t you have enough from me?” she asked after a long swallow.

“We need another double,” Dr. K said. Tabitha gave him her saddest pout. “Come on, Tabby, we want a hit, baby. Whatcha gotta do today that’s more important?” Be

“Lisbeth and I are supposed to go shopping,” she said, as if it was the most serious thing in the world. Be

“Oh, cut it out, you little twerp. If you had any balls, you would come with us and I’d buy you some real clothes, instead of that Old Navy shit you wear. But we’d have to spend some of your vast royalty income, and we all know you’re too cheap for that.”

“Owned,” Dr. K said and laughed for the first time all day.

“Okay, okay, I know when I’ve met my match. We’ll double it with Alieya,” Be

“So, can we go?” she asked, on the verge of a

“Sure,” Be

“Ka-ching,” Max said. “Another shiny pop performance, a supercool song, and surefire hit.” That seemed perfectly true as far as I was concerned.

“I’ll be sure to let the boss know,” Doc said, returning to his soundboard.

“Yeah? Well be sure to let him know this, too…” Tabitha said, holding her middle finger up. Everyone nodded knowingly.

As Tabitha prepared to leave, Be

“Hey Lisbeth, here’s my number. I know you’ll dig me,” Be

I couldn’t help being a little embarrassed.

Tabitha was motioning me from the studio exit to hurry up.

“Shopping time!” she screamed in the fullest voice she had used all session.

34

“La Perla first, the one in SoHo,” Tabitha instructed Mocha as soon as we jumped into the limo. “I always seem to be losing my underwear.” She giggled. Mocha turned the limo into the traffic and headed toward SoHo.

“The key, darling,” I said, “is to keep them on until you get home.”

“Yeah, I really should try that, or maybe stuff them in my purse. But sometimes I just don’t have time.” She shrugged as though she were talking about losing a pair of gloves, a scarf, or sunglasses. Mocha cracked a grin in the rearview mirror. So chauffeurs do hear everything.

“So, you don’t hate me?” Tabitha asked, stretching out into the corner of the limo.

“Why on earth would I?” I wondered how much of Tabitha’s insecurity I could take, considering there was my own insecurity to deal with. “That was impressive and wonderful.”

“Britney’s no different, believe me. I sang with her once, and she can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

“Ah, yes, that’s what Max said.”

“Oh. Really?” she said, eyebrows raised. “Well, I guess he should know.”

I hoped I hadn’t put Max in a bad spot.

“Dear, I’m impressed that you can work with those very talented musicians. The process is mind-boggling,” I said, worried that my Audrey sounded a tad old-fashioned.

Tabitha shrugged. The dark cloud that had made her so anxious had lifted now that the studio recording was behind us.

Taking La Perla by storm, Tabitha dropped six thousand dollars on underwear as if she was buying breath mints at the drugstore. I couldn’t help but wonder how many mortgage payments my mom would have made with her underwear money.

Walking the aisles, I found a pair of boy shorts that were stretch tulle for $140. I assumed that these magic panties, in addition to conveying visible benefits on the wearer, bestowed confidence, romance, and sensuality, something that I could probably use.

“When was the last time you bought lingerie?” Tabitha asked. I hadn’t noticed her step behind me.

“Me? I don’t really keep track,” I said. Yeah, once at T.J.Maxx, and once Jess and I went to a sample sale—did those count?

“Well, why don’t you buy some?”

“I keep my underwear,” I said, giving her a disdainful glance and hoping that would put the discussion to rest.

“Tell me the truth, Lisbeth, are you a prude?”

“What? No!” Stu