When Life Gives You Lululemons by Lauren Weisberger Page B

in the looks department—not even with the advantage of being nearly a decade younger. At thirty-seven, Karolina still turned heads each and every time she stepped outside. While Regan’s body was trim and fit, Karolina’s was slamming: curvy and tanned and sexy and tight—quite literally the stuff of fantasies for boys and men worldwide. Regan’s bouncy bob framed her pretty face and showed off her translucent skin; Karolina’s wild brown waves tumbled down her back and grazed the very top of her buttocks and seemed to suggest that she had always just climbed directly out of someone’s bed. Pretty versus hot. Brilliant versus sexy. Ivy League humanitarian versus high-school-dropout lingerie model. All-American privilege and upbringing versus peasant roots and a slight but persistent Polish accent.
    Karolina may have stayed there all day, clicking madly, but she had female matters to address. She slipped on her favorite boots, a massive Canada Goose down jacket, and a pair of outdated glasses from the kitchen drawer. In the car, she commanded Siri to take her to the nearest drugstore, which directed her to Whole Foods instead. Unwilling to continue driving, Karolina parked and braced herself against the frigid January wind as she made her way to the front door in the darkness. As though the cold wasn’t bad enough, it had to get dark in the middle of the day. Had that happened in Bethesda too? Why did it seem so much worse here? And was that creepy guy standing just inside the entranceFaceTiming someone, or was he holding his phone up like that because he was taking her picture? She shivered, unwilling to know the answer, and had begun a frantic search for the toiletries aisle when she heard a familiar voice.
    â€œOh my God. Karolina!” Miriam materialized, pushing a cart, her cheeks adorably red from the cold but her expression one of concern.
    â€œHey, fancy meeting you here.”
    â€œKarolina! You look homeless . What’s going on with you?”
    â€œI have my period.”
    Miriam frowned. “Is that code for something? Or—wait. Are you relieved? Or upset? Are you still trying?”
    Karolina laughed and it sounded bitter even to her own ears. “Yeah, only for seven years now, and you can see how well that went.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
    â€œNo, please, it’s fine. I’m here to buy Tampax.”
    Miriam looked relieved. “How are you doing otherwise? I’ve called and texted you the last two weeks, but . . . Anyway, I didn’t want to stop by unannounced.” She made a show of looking Karolina up and down. “But I probably should have.”
    Karolina waved her hand but the tears had already begun. “I’m fine,” she said, wiping her eyes.
    â€œOh, honey. Come here,” Miriam said, and although Karolina was embarrassed to be sobbing at the local Whole Foods, it felt so wonderful to be hugged. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here now.”
    A petite woman in a workout outfit pushed a cart with a toddler past them. As the little girl shoved Cheerios in her mouth, the woman couldn’t disguise the fact that she was staring at Karolina. Not sneaking little glimpses but staring openly, head swiveled, mouth agape.
    â€œYes?” Karolina asked her. She was certain that directly confronting the woman would shame her into looking away, but it had no effect whatsoever. The toddler screeched and pulled at her mother’s sweat-wicking shirt, but still the woman stared at Karolina.
    â€œYou’re Karolina Hartwell,” the woman murmured, trancelike.
    â€œCan we help you with something?” Miriam asked more politely than Karolina would have liked.
    â€œIt’s just—you were my favorite model ever. I’ll never forget, I saw you at the Victoria’s Secret fashion show . . . what? That was like a hundred years ago. When you were