Vegas Envy by J. J. Salem Page A

before adding, ‘It’s so bad that you can’t even pay for this hotel room.’
    If Envy had been standing, her knees would have gone weak and triggered a collapse. Already her mind was in desperation mode. She had to make money, dignity be damned. One of the disposable celebrity magazines – US Weekly, Star, OK! – would pay for the privilege of an exclusive interview. She could visualize the headline splashed across the cover: ENVIED NO MORE – RICH STAR, POOR STAR. Humiliating, yes, but still an instant way to make some fast income. Suddenly, the realization sunk in that it was all up to her now. She would have to make the call, negotiate the terms, haggle over the price, and schedule the time and place.
    January had just said out loud what Envy had known deep down for several days. Her situation was beyond bleak. It was terrifying. That’s why she had gone about the tough business of firing her agent, manager, publicist, and lawyer. Professionally, she had plummeted. Financially, she had met her Waterloo. And putting aside the fact that all of this had happened on the watch of her so-called power team, the simple fact was that she could no longer afford to pay out their percentages from any future earnings. Right now Envy needed every dollar she could get her hands on.

    CHAPTER TWO White Envy

    She was born in the nowhere town of Faxinalzinho in Brazil’s South, the daydreaming daughter of a husky mechanic and a quiet shopkeeper. From an early age her mind was focused on the big city of São Paulo. She would climb trees to escape her bullying cousins and stare up at the sky, imagining the possibilities that existed there for modeling, acting, glamorous surroundings . . . In short, the beautiful life.
    If only for Envy’s relentless badgering, her parents cobbled together the money to pay for a modeling class two hours away in Erechim. She was 16. But even then she had the curves, the attitude, and the green-eyed blonde-bombshell looks – all the makings of an 80s supermodel. Photographers lost their minds over her exotic miscegenation. With Arab, Portuguese, and Indian blood on her mother’s side and Italian and German ancestry on her father’s, Marcelia Envy Kuerten generated instant buzz and excitement. From first day to last, she was the star student of the course.
    When a scout for Ming Management spotted her at a bus station, life changed forever. She was dispatched to São Paulo and within days began posing for international editions of Vogue and Elle. One afternoon her overwhelmed handler at Ming slashed a violent black Sharpie line through MARCELIA and KUERTEN and proclaimed her simply . . . ENVY, a marketing move that created a little earthquake in the demimonde of modeling. The phones never stopped ringing – more fashion magazines, catwalk shows for Prada, Chanel, and Calvin Klein, plus advertising work for cosmetic and retail giants. By the time she turned 19, Envy was living in New York, hovering near the upper echelon of the industry, and deflecting come-ons from Sylvester Stallone and Bruce Willis in the VIP room of Tunnel.
    During the 90s, her career flourished alongside the top girls of the decade – Christy Turlington, Linda Evangelista, Naomi Campbell, Kate Moss, Claudia Schiffer. Envy found ways to possess a mass audience with iconic moments that revealed her special brand of Brazilian charm and personality. There was the hilarious Pepsi Super Bowl commercial with skateboarding teens, the jet-setting romance with filmdom’s reigning superstar, the bestselling book that was part memoir, part beauty and exercise plan, and the inspiring charity work on behalf of AIDS sufferers.
    The public’s interest and affection allowed her to branch out into exciting new arenas. In 2001, she was offered her first leading role in a movie – a harmless bit of romantic fluff called 1,000 Kisses. It opened on Valentine’s Day the following year, topped the weekend box office, and went on to gross over