by Kiki Leach
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Alexis tossed her hands up in the air and strolled toward the door.
“That sounded like your mother,” Nikki finally responded. “Is she back in town already?”
“So you can speak. And, yes. Alexis is back and as you can imagine, seeing her after two and a half weeks is as lovely as always,” she replied.
Alexis turned and made a face at her daughter before leaving the room. Vanessa flinched, slightly intimidated by the glare her mother tossed her way. It reminded her of when she was a child and was all but threatened to eat her vegetables before getting dessert of any kind.
She cleared her throat to shake off the feeling and sat back.
“Anyway, what’s up?”
Nikki wavered a moment before responding. She was standing outside a small Brooklyn dance studio waiting to audition for the role of a crack addict whose boyfriend and stepmother were plotting her murder. As the wind swirled around her face and through her hair, she struggled with the right words to use.
“Nikki, hello???” Vanessa said.
She lowered her head and gazed at the ground. “Yeah, I’m still here.”
“What’s up? Why are you calling? Not that I don’t like to hear from you before lunch, it’s just not the norm.”
“I just… wanted to check up on you, see how you were doing today.”
“I’m a lot better. I think. Maybe. I don’t know. I did just learn that if we planned on attending the reunion after all that we’d be dealing with none other than the She-Devil herself.”
“What? What the hell happened to Joan?”
“A baby happened.”
“Oh.” She paused. “I thought I heard she got pregnant by that guy she’s been with for three years, but then I also heard that he was gay and their sex life was a myth.”
“Well, it still might be. Either way that myth is the reason she appointed Sheila as the new chairman of the reunion committee, because clearly no one else was up to task for the job.” Her eyes were practically rolling into her head like a spinning bowling ball down the alleyway. “Apparently she has been the vice president the entire time.”
Nikki scoffed. “How did we not know this?”
“We didn’t care. Anyway, I’m dealing with it.”
“Are you thinking of going now?”
“I don’t know. A part of me wants to, but then another more rational part of me thinks, ‘what’s the point?’ It’s not like we’re both rivaling for Nathan’s affections, she’s marrying the man. And the last thing I need is to see her rubbing my face in it all over again. I don’t know, I’ll just have to think about it. If I remember, Maurice RSVP’d for himself and a guest months ago, so either way, he was always going. Maybe that’s why Sheila thought to invite him to the wedding.”
“He didn’t know she was the Vice President?”
“No, and I’m starting to wonder if anyone did. Listen, I don’t want to derail the conversation talking more about that piece of trash. Let’s get to the real reason why you called.”
Nikki went completely silent then. She began chewing the inside of her cheek, which she always did when she was nervous, and tapped her foot on the ground.
“I didn’t want anything, I just, wanted to check in on you.”
“I can tell something else is going on,” said Vanessa. “The sound of your voice always gives you away. There’s a little rattle in the back of your throat that seems to become more apparent as you talk.”
She let out a deep breath and looked up toward the sky.
“I don’t know, I just… Do you think I’m a moocher?”
“What? Where is that coming from?”
“I was talking to Maurice this morning--”
“You managed to get up before noon?”
“Yes, for this audition I’m currently waiting for.” She moved the hair from her face and looked aside. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m using you or that our friendship means more to you than it does to me, because it doesn’t.”
“I don’t think you’re a moocher, Nicole. Maurice was just being an ass this morning, most likely because that girl he was with snuck out on him last night after he untied her and probably stole some money from his wallet. Don’t let anything he ever says get to you like that.”
“He was right in some of the things he said.”
“He wasn’t right about that. Is that why you started off asking me about Sheila?”
“Yes and no. I genuinely wanted to know how you were doing. But I also didn’t want you to think I didn’t care, despite the way I can come off about it.”
“I know that you care. I can come off fairly annoying about it and I know that too. Sometimes I just need to vent, and sometimes, I can go over the top.”
Her assistant walked back into the office then, appearing somewhat disheveled. Her pants were stained with coffee and grape jelly. There were traces of what looked like butter left on her shirt, and her hair looked as if it had been caught inside a vacuum. Vanessa frowned a little and sat up in her chair.
“Nik, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you when I get home and we can decide what will be for dinner.”
As she hung up the phone, she rushed to Samantha’s desk. She was slumped over in her chair from complete exhaustion and almost near tears.
“What the hell happened to you? You were supposed to work a photo shoot, not tame a lion.”
“Believe me,” she began, her voice cracking like little bits of paper as she tried her best to keep from blubbering, “some of those women WERE lions. I’ve never seen such an utter lack of self-control.” The skin around her eyes expanded as she leaned forward on her desk and opened her arms. “One model decided it would be fun to take a joy ride on the back of that old time cop car that sits on display near the hot dog stand.”
“I didn’t even think that thing could run.”
“No one did, but to my surprise, Brandi Urvine was somehow able to hotwire it as we were busy trying to get things set up. Meanwhile, the other one climbed on top of it with her top off! Her boobs were flying everywhere, and Brandi kept screaming music lyrics out of the window. In between all of this, she got cigarette burns all over her arms that we had to cover with an enormous amount of makeup. I knew models could be problematic, but these two…” She momentarily dropped her face in her hands and sharply rattled her head. “They didn’t get arrested but it was only because I told the police that they were my mentally unstable half-sisters who I was looking to stick inside an asylum in Newark. He suggested more secure facilities around the city before going after some naked man who was streaking us in the park. And then, one of the girls had to pose on a horse. But she didn’t want to pose on the horse because she was afraid of horses and afraid of being tossed off.”
“Veronica, right?” she asked. Samantha nodded. “We asked her this months ago and now she’s suddenly afraid to be on a horse? This girl informed me once that she had sex in a Ferris wheel while it was stuck at the top for crying out loud. Granted, she was apparently high on coke, but even sober, I’m supposed to believe that a few feet from the ground made her that nervous? What else happened?”
“She finally got on the horse after I convinced her that she was only sitting, not riding it. But she still thought she needed some alcohol first to get through it.”
“Oh great--”
“And then I think I saw her snort something from the back of her hand. I didn’t know what to say to her, so I kept the shoot going.”
“I’ll have yet another talk with her later. Go on.”
“Ok. So, we’re getting her up on this horse, she steadies herself, and then as soon as Pierre gets the perfect shot of her appearing like a goddess on a stallion, she pukes all over it and herself. The horse immediately ran off and I was forced to catch her before she fell to the ground and then told to run after the horse while vomit is flying back in the wind, landing on my shirt.”
Vanessa placed her hand to her lips. She snorted a little, but tried
to stop herself.
“Are you laughing at me?” Samantha asked. Her voice was shaking now. “Was this some kind of test?”
“No! It wasn’t, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t a test, I really did need your help and I’m grateful for you being there, especially under these horrific circumstances... Since I never received a call, I assumed everything was going fine.”
“No one wanted to call you because everyone thought they’d be fired.”
“They just might be, but that’s the reason I sent you out there. Now I know what happens when I’m not there to control these idiots.”
“You’re not going to fire me, are you?”
“Of course not!” said Vanessa. “You did your job. And it seems you were the only one who did.”
Samantha began picking pieces of leaves and twigs from her hair as Vanessa looked on with a bit of pity.
“Hey,” she continued. “Why don’t you go and get cleaned up. The company showers are finally working again in the locker rooms. Take a nice, long hot shower because you look like you could use it. Also, head to the wardrobe department downstairs, find Anthony and tell him that you need something to wear for the rest of the day. I can’t have you sitting here looking like this and I know that you don’t want to smell like week old cottage cheese for the next few hours.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to miss calls or anything.”
“Before I became an editor, I answered my mother’s phone at the desk that sits in front of her office, just like mine. I think I can remember how it goes and what buttons to push.”
“I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
“I know you didn’t. I was just being snarky. By the way, did you manage to take any pictures or get any video before the chaos?”
She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone.
“I saved a few pictures of the models as soon as the shoot began. I tried taking a video as they frequently changed poses, but every time I tried switching over, something managed to happen with me involved, so I couldn’t.”
“Whatever you have should be good enough for now. From what I’ve seen and what you’re telling me, it seems we’ll have a lot to discuss prior to this issue going on stands. Email me the shots and then I will compare notes with Pierre and the rest of the team.”
When the phone rang, Samantha reached out for it.
Vanessa shook her head and raced back into her office, picking it up without looking. “Attitude Magazine.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got the voice of a sex kitten in heat? It just purrs when you say the name of where you work.”
It was Maurice calling from his desk at work. He was sitting up, fiddling with the pencil in his hand and spinning it between his fingers.
She laughed and sat back on her desk. “You’re the only person who has ever said that to me,” she responded. “And I can’t imagine why.”
“V!” He feigned surprise. “I thought it was one of your assistants.”
“If you talk to my assistants like that, it’s no wonder they all end up leaving. They get too preoccupied with hearing your voice, they can’t seem to manage to do their jobs correctly.”
“Do I have that effect on you?” he asked.
“Not in the slightest.”
“Not yet.”
“Mo, if it hasn’t happened yet, then I don’t think it’s ever going to.”
“You can be pretty coldblooded, Vanessa.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Might be why you keep going through assistants.”
“Not true, my mother just doesn’t know who to hire for me. She thinks of herself and her personality, not me and mine. Luckily, Samantha is working out just fine so far. I’ve put her through the ringer and she’s catching on more than any of the other twits ever did. I think the last one lasted half a day. And I like this girl, which is rare.”
“You don’t like anyone,” he said. “She must see that as some sort of accomplishment.”
“Well, I’m no devil in Prada, but that’s not to say I couldn’t be.”
“I sometimes imagine you wearing Prada heels and not much else.”
She felt her cheeks get warm and cleared her throat. “Mo--”
“By the way, what up’s with putting the invite from hell on the fridge?”
“I’m using it as a motivation.”
“Motivation for what?”
“Just, motivation.”
Her eyes roamed down toward the picture sitting on the corner of her desk. It was one of her, Nikki, and Maurice embracing each other from their freshman year of high school. (Sheila and Nathan had been completely removed after senior year thanks to Vanessa’s heavily improved photo shopping skills.) She realized how far they had come since then and stood away from it, anxious.
“I don’t think putting that thing up on display is a good reminder for you, V.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said quickly, ignoring him as her mind had already moved onto something more important. “Hey, did you talk to Nikki this morning?”
“Maybe,” he said, shifting his eyes in suspicion and dread. “Why?”
“Well, she called me asking if I thought she was a moocher.”
He dropped back in his chair and tossed his pencil across his desk. “I wasn’t saying it to be a dick.”
“You apparently weren’t saying it to be sincere, either.”
“Maybe not. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one who needs the apology,” she said.
“You’re right, I’ll apologize to her tonight.”
“Good, because I don’t need her being pissed off over something like this when we’ve already got so much shit to deal with as it is.”
“V, I said I’ll apologize.”
“Ok. Fine. What exactly were you calling me for anyway?”
He looked down at his watch and began tapping his foot on the floor. “I called because I have lunch in thirty minutes and was curious to know if you wanted to join me?”
“I’d like to, but I’ve got tons of shit here I have to get done since I skipped out yesterday.”
“No, I understand. It’s just, um…” He loosened his collar and elongated his neck. His nerves went into overdrive. “There’s a new Thai restaurant that opened up on East 52nd next door to Fig & Olive. One of my coworkers was just telling me about it. He and his wife visited last night. And I know you like that kind of food, so I thought it’d be a good place to try out.”
“Mmm.” She moved her head back and forth, wavering. “How good is it supposed to be?”
“One of the best new places in the city with a 5 star rating in the Times.”
“That doesn’t really encourage me, Maurice.”
He winced and yanked a pen from beside him. He began stabbing his forehead with the clicker. “Um…” He thought for a long time, then quickly dropped the pen and began typing the name of the restaurant into the Bing search network on his computer. “I found a few sites,” he said.
As he scanned, he found one site that would be the perfect indicator, at least according to Vanessa, whether she was personally going to like the food or not.
“The ratings are great on Yelp.”
“Ok, well… that’s a little more encouraging. You know I trust reviews from actual people more than paid ones.”
“So it’s a date? I can come and pick you up.”
She continued wavering, then refocused her eyes down at all the papers on her desk, covering her monthly calendar. Everything was sprawled from one side to the other and highly disorganized. It just seemed like a giant mess that she wasn’t the least bit interested in cleaning up. Alexis was going to freak, but that was the least of her worries.
She sank down a little in her chair and exhaled in defeat.
“Eh, screw it. Maybe I can escape this madness for a bit and then come back to it later or tomorrow.”
“Alright,” he said, enthused. “I can meet you outside of your building
in thirty minutes.”
“Ok. I’ll see you then.”
After hanging up, he sat back and placed his hands behind his head, feeling enormously satisfied.
Part Six
After leaving her audition, Nikki felt more than a little bit discouraged. She was told by both the producer and director of the film that she didn’t do as great of a job as she was certain she had, and informed by the casting director before she had even made it out of the building to not bother showing up for the second round of auditions later in the week. The door slammed in her face before she could even ask what she had done wrong, to improve for the next role that came calling, or one she chased down the cobblestone streets like children after an ice cream truck. Instead she stood there, stunned and feeling as if she had just been kicked out on her ass by a john who was readying the room for another hooker, one who happened to be worth more money and turned far more tricks than she would ever know.
She drowned her sorrows at a dive bar near SoHo, with a few shots of tequila followed by large glasses of water and a few cups of coffee to keep from becoming completely plastered midday, then wandered around town for a while, thinking of what Maurice had told her earlier in the day. She wondered if it had subconsciously worked against her in her ability to perform well, before heading to the coffee shop in the hopes of getting a pep talk, and maybe something more, from Oscar. Unfortunately, she wasn’t expecting his wife, Melanie, to be all over him first when she arrived.
She was, however, still expecting her to be in Los Angeles.
As she watched them embracing one another from where she stood in the opening of the doorway, she saw a kind of love and closeness between them that she knew she would never have with him. It was the kind of love and closeness only shared between a man and his wife, the kind shared between two people who have had children and been intimate in more ways than one quite recently as opposed to over a year, which is what she had always been told and believed.
Where exactly did he go when he took unexpected days off from work? she wondered. Especially during times when she couldn’t reach him. She always assumed it had to do with their children, but she was beginning to think otherwise the longer she stared at them.