by Ellie Rowe
“Security!” he screams from the floor. Serves him right for straddling the chair like a toddler, too. He’s turtled on his back and can’t manage to get up.
“Security!” he shrieks again, and a dumpy-looking gentleman throws open the door, doughnut in hand.
“Whoa, boss, what happened!” He chokes through a mouthful of doughnut.
“Get her outta here!” Bucky shrieks. I grab my purse and stand up.
“Yes, please,” I smile and squeeze past him to exit.
Security (if that’s what you can call him) totters after me until we reach the door. “Thank you, I can take it from here,” I smile and he nods, clearly confused.
“Uh, sure. Nice work, by the way,” he says in sotto voce and chucks a thumb back toward the office. One of the other staff members comes rushing in to see the action and he straightens up immediately. “And, don’t come back!”
“That won’t be a problem,” I head out and decide I need the walk back to my place. I’ve got to get my head on straight; plus, I might as well save some cash from cab fare. I realize too late that there are tears stinging my eyes.
I have to face it.
Any career in my industry is over. Shit, I may even have to leave the city. The pictures went live just a few days ago, including images of the lunch with Roger. Plus, some even more salacious ones from our second night together.
I grumpily bump past some slow-walking tourists. Why is sex between consenting adults such a fucking crime? It’s infuriating! It’s not wrong to fuck. It’s the 21st century, for heavens’ sake.
The walk calms me down, but it’s far too short. What did I expect from a shithole newspaper? Of course, it’s easy walking distance from my shitty apartment. As I round the corner, my chateau comes into view.
Fuck. The whole damned thing is under a tent like it’s the world’s shittiest circus. I clench my jaw and walk up to the notice. Attention! Restricted Pesticide on Premises. No shit, Sherlock. They’re fumigating for lice on zero notice.
Excellent. This is just fucking perfect.
Now what am I supposed to do? I reach for my phone and my fingers find Roger’s number.
No. Not him. He’s been on radio silent since I left.
Did I break up with him without meaning to? I scoff to myself, you can’t break up if you weren’t in a relationship, stupid.
Or, were we? That’s the funny thing about Roger, I’m afraid our adult conversations are few and far between.
Adult-rated sure, but as far as being open and honest about our feelings, we’re both steel traps. Either way, I can’t reach out to him now. Not like this.
But I need help.
I have no clothes, no food, no roof over my head. Everything I own is in this purse and that goddamn apartment. I didn’t want to bother her, but think I have to get in touch with the only friend I have left.
With a sigh, I punch in her number. It rings once before I hear her shriek on the other end.
“Babe! Oh my God, I’ve been so worried about you! I’m sorry I haven’t called, but it’s been a madhouse since you left! Gabby, as you know, is a cunt and I can’t —”
“Hi, Josie,” I shout, laughing. It feels good to hear her voice; her piercing, shrieking voice. “Josie... JOSIE!” I yell over her and hear her mumble something about Facetime.
Oh, great.
“There she is!” Josie claps a hand over her mouth, and I see very real tears well in her eyes. We’ve switched over to video for all of three seconds before she’s crying. Oy vey.
“Oh, Christ, don’t start woman,” I moan as I stare at the screen.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She wails and fans her eyes, “I just miss you is all. I can’t believe this place, after everything you did —”
“I know. I know.” Her appreciation is touching, but she’s still screaming into the phone and the strange looks from passersby are making me nervous. “Listen, I know this is crazy and short notice, but my place is being fumigated for lice —”
“Oh GOD!” She yells, which startles some poor tourists. I mouth ‘sorry’ to them with a shrug and try to shush her.
“It’s not a big deal, I should be able to get back in tomorrow, but Joze… I don’t have anywhere to stay tonight, and I was hoping —”
“Oh my God, come over! Get your ass over here, Natalie! Fuck, it’ll be like a slumber party! Oh my God, I can’t wait, where are you? I’m sending a car!” Her screen pauses as she starts punching in numbers, and I feel a familiar swell in my heart.
This is why she was my best friend at work. Is she a lot of personality? Yes. Did she immediately come to my defense when this shit went down? No.
But she’s still there for me.
I give her my address, and she comes back on Facetime to give me a hard stare.
“What the fuck are you doing down there?” she asks, her nose crinkled in disgust.
“Don’t ask,” I laugh, and she rolls her eyes.
“Okay, Janis in a Ford F150 will be arriving in ten minutes. Sit tight,” she blows a kiss to the phone and hangs up. Damn, she’s a whirlwind.
I take a deep breath and look back at the ballooning pesticide-filled tent. But, you’ve got a place to stay tonight, and you didn’t have to run to Roger for help.
Good.
I frown as I watch the notice sign flutter in the breeze.
That is good, right?
Twenty-Two
Roger
“Roge, bro, good to see ya again, baby!”
Gerald did it. He accomplished the impossible.
He actually managed to talk Jared Barron back to the negotiating table. It means I have to see this dickhole again, but it also means my future isn’t totally fucked. I need this deal right now. Anything to take my mind off Natalie. Working on 755 could potentially occupy my brain for a good twelve to sixteen hours a day for the next two years.
“Hi, Jared,” I say as politely as possible. I once again seat myself across his desk while Gerald sits beside me. Two of Jared’s three lawyers are again on the couch off to my side.
The third lawyer, weirdly enough, is standing slightly behind and to the side of Jared. He’s holding his briefcase in a stiff manner. I wonder if he’s supposed to look intimidating. If so, it’s not working.
For starters, he’s a skinny dude with a razor-burned face. His boyish face and fat lips make him look like he just got out of law school.
Gee-whillickers, I’m so scared. As if. Jared’s pretty cowardly if he’s made Lawyer-Baby his bodyguard for this meeting.
Gerald smiles widely at everyone in the room. “Well, I’m really glad we all were able to put aside our little differences, and get back to business together once again.” His eyes land on me and he raises his eyebrows expectantly.
Time for me to say the tiny speech he prepared. I clear my throat. I really don’t want to do this, but ‘business is business’, as they say.
“You know how hotheaded I can be, Jared,” I begin. I hope I sound at least a little sincere, for appearance’s sake. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. It was unprofessional. But I’m ready to do this deal, which is going to be in the best interest of both of us.”
“I fucking bet you’re ready to make this deal!” Jared exclaims as he leans way back in his chair. I wait for the chair to flip over, but, unfortunately, it doesn’t and Jared keeps talking. “This is a goddamn coup for you, isn’t it? 755 is prime midtown real estate. I hear you’re planning on turning it into a mixed-use space? Businesses and residences?”
“That’s right.”
“Going all green with it and shit, too, right?”
“That’s right.”
“La-di-dah. Pretty fucking impressive, Roge.” He glances up and over at Lawyer-Baby. “It’s pretty fucking impressive, right?” Lawyer-Baby shrugs. Jared looks back at me. “He’s not impressed, but what do lawyers know?”
I look at Lawyer-Baby. He is indeed unimpressed. But there’s something else about him… Why is he s
tanding so awkwardly…?
Gerald can sense my growing impatience. He leans forward and takes a three-hundred-dollar fountain pen out of his inside suit pocket. “Shall we go ahead and sign the papers?”
Jared leans forward and eagerly takes the pen. “Oh, yeah, let’s sign away.”
Gerald happily sets the documents on the table and turns them to face Jared. Jared makes a show of looking it over, but I can sense he’s stalling. Finally, he laughs like something funny has just occurred to him.
“Oh, dude,” he says, leaning back against his chair again. “I was at the opening of that new Thai fusion spot over on the Upper West Side a few nights ago? I was telling everyone I saw there about our little tizzy. How you almost fucked up the whole deal we were doing, but that I was gonna give you a second chance.”
What’s he doing? Goading me again?
“Oh yeah?” I say, my voice steady, giving away nothing.
“Thing is, they’d already heard all about it!” Jared laughs loudly. “I guess I’ve been blabbing. You know how that goes. I blab to someone, who blabs to someone, who blabs to someone. Like a game of telephone among the rich, famous and shallow!” He cracks himself up again.
Gerald glances nervously between me and Jared. I make a point of not moving a muscle. “Let’s just go ahead and sign, and then we —”
“I’m looking it over,” Jared shoots at Gerald.
“It’s the same contract as before —”
“I’m sorry I got such a big, fucking mouth, Roge. But, look who I’m talking to. Roger Zane loves publicity, am I right? I mean, your ass was already hanging all over the front page of the papers! Figure you ain’t got much left you need to keep private.”
I shrug and play it cool. “I got nothing to hide.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of, either, I bet, huh?” He makes a lewd gesture with his arm and fist like a dick. Then he puts the pen down. Shit.
He stands up, starts to come around to the front of his desk. “The chick on the other hand. I been hearing bad things happened to her.”
Really? He’s gonna go there?
Gerald chimes in again. “Gentlemen, this is a business deal between the two of you. Let’s leave everyone else out of it.”
Jared doesn’t take the hint. “You know what I heard about these fancy magazine chicks? They all get their pussies waxed at the same place. And they get ‘em scented.”
One of the lawyers to my side giggles like a six-year-old boy. It eggs Jared on. “You believe that? Like, lavender or roses or some shit like that!” Jared sits on the edge of his desk and looks down at me. “That true, Roge? Her twat has a particular aroma, like I heard?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I turn to Gerald. “Grab the contract, please?”
Gerald snatches it off the desk and hands it to me.
“Oh, c’mon,” Jared pleads, “you’re the kiss and tell type, aren’t you? A guy like me, I never get to bed the kind of chicks you do. Throw me some details. Give me a little something for the spank bank tonight, and I swear to God I’ll sign.” He snorts another laugh.
Ignore him, I tell myself. I pull a pen out of my own blazer, and start signing and initialing the paperwork in the appropriate places.
But Jared’s like a goddamn dog with a bone. He leans in close. “Just whisper it to me, huh? Just between you and me. Her pussy taste like lavender? Or roses?”
That’s it.
In a flash, I’m out of my chair. Slam! go the contracts on the desk. Then I’ve got both of Jared’s suit jacket lapels in my hand. I yank him close to me. “Listen, you little piece of horse shit…”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the awkward stance Lawyer-Baby has taken. He’s adjusted his position, not in a way to protect his client, but to have a better view of our altercation. He’s also got his briefcase under his arm in the strangest way.
Like he’s aiming it at us. It puts me in mind of Weasel.
Jared’s eyes flick in the lawyer’s direction for just a heartbeat. Lawyer-Baby notices and hastily lowers the briefcase.
Too late, dick bags. “Gerald, check that asshole’s briefcase.”
For an old guy, Gerald moves faster than you’d expect. Over Lawyer-Baby’s protests, Gerald yanks the case out of the guy’s hands, slams it on the desk and pops it open.
He confirms my suspicions. “Camera.”
Pandemonium breaks out. Jared’s three lawyers start yelling at Gerald, who returns verbal fire at them.
Jared is grinning ear-to-smarmy-fucking-ear at the chaos. I’ve still got him by the lapels. With a shout, I pull him away from the desk and smash his back up against the huge office windows.
There’s a loud, ringing thwang! The window shimmies with the impact.
The yelling from the lawyers turns into cries of alarm and caution.
“Everybody, shut up!” I shout.
I slam Jared against the window again. It wobbles once more from the force of the blow, but it doesn’t shatter. These windows are too sturdy to shatter from just a few thumps. At least I think they are.
Jared’s finally stops smiling. “Easy, Roge,” he warns.
“What the fuck is going on, Jared?”
“C’mon, dude, don’t be naïve.”
“Tell me!”
“You think I called you back in here to do this deal?” Jared asks. That smile creeps back into his face. “You gotta do better research. 755’s been off the market for weeks.”
I shoot a look at Gerald. He gives me a helpless shrug back. If Jared’s telling the truth, Gerald was in the dark about it. My stomach drops.
Jared goes on to reveal what I’ve really walked into. “But some tabloid sleaze was telling everybody who’d listen he was looking for dirt on you. Paid me a pretty fucking penny, too. Between the premium price I got on 755 after you rejected it, and the money this tabloid goon gave me, dealing with you has really paid off! Sorry, Roge, my man,” he shrugs. “Business is business.”
I look at Gerald again. “The camera disabled?” I ask him.
Gerald reaches into the briefcase and rips something out. “It is now.”
“Good.”
I pull back my fist and let it fly.
I was right about the window. It holds.
By the crunch we all hear, Jared’s nose does not.
Twenty-Three
Natalie
“Are you out of your mind?!” Josie shouts through bites of vegetable lo mein. We’re on her couch, snuggled up with some Chinese food and wine. It’s an interesting pairing, but I’m grateful.
“I don’t know, Joze,” I groan and pick at my cardboard container.
“I mean, yeah the whole scandal thing totally cost you your dream job, sorry about that again, but you had a fucking billionaire nailing the hell out of you!”
“Yeah —”
“And you actually liked the guy!” She waves her chopsticks dramatically, and shakes her head at me like an angry yenta. “So….?” she asks, her eyes wide.
“So, what?” I retort, exasperated. I knew she’d be supportive of my finally having a decent ‘relationship’ with a guy, but I didn’t think I’d get the third degree.
“So, what’s the problem? He’s stinking rich, he’s thoughtful, he’s sexy, he cares about you... and you like him!”
I sink further into the couch and stuff my face with food to stall.
In truth, I don’t have an answer. Why am I eating Chinese food and sleeping on my friend’s lovely floral couch when I could be living a fabulous life on the arm of some rich real estate magnate? I mean, he was clearly into me, right?
Yeah, before I blew it. I think and spoon in another mouthful before Josie can demand a response. I really did blow it. No sooner had I made my big move into the shithole apartment, that the whole place goes under a tent for lice.
“Like, why are you here?” Josie asks what I’ve already been thinking. “Not that I don’t love having you, you know that. But, clearly, there’s a better offe
r on the table here and I’m disappointed you chose me.”
I choke on my rice, trying not to laugh and spew it all over her couch.
“Agh!” I yell as I finally swallow. “You’re right, okay? You’re right, you’re right, are you happy? I made a stake for my independence and for what? A tent full of lice. I wouldn’t recommend it,” I add as I brandish my chopsticks.
“But it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s phantomed me again.” Josie raises an eyebrow. “Never mind. I mean he’s not answering any of my texts!”
“Oh, fuck that!” Josie scoffs. “Gimme your phone, gimme his number!”
“I’m not giving you my phone, you looney,” I mutter and take a swig of wine. “But… here’s his number.” What the hell, it’s girl’s night, right? She giggles like mad when she types in his digits and sets to work.
“What are you saying? Let me see!” I groan as I try to scootch toward her. She puts her foot against my chest and holds me at bay, her tongue stuck firmly in her teeth as she types away.
“Jesus, Josie, is that a novel?” She shushes me and finishes her text with a flourish. Taking a sip of wine, she grins at me like the Cheshire cat before holding up her hand. She counts down, mouthing the numbers — five, four, three, two, one.
Ding! Her phone goes off like clockwork. My mouth hangs open. “How did you do that?!”
She shushes me and sets to work again, texting away. “Don’t you dare, Josie, what are you saying to him?!”
“Shushies,” Josie says as she finishes her text.
Ding! Another response. That bitch! How come he responds so readily to her? I’m about to ask her as much when she gets a very mischievous look in her eye.
“I am regretting giving you his number,” I say reaching for the phone, but she presses her foot against me and forces me back. I clutch my rice and shoot daggers at her, but she continues, happy in her matchmaking.