“Find what you’re looking for?” a moderately pregnant woman asked.
“I…” Madison glanced hopelessly at the silky fabrics beside her, then at the woman’s nametag then back to the clothing. “Don’t you have anything…?”
Seeing Madison’s knitted brows, the woman angled her head and waited. Clearly both of them were clueless as to what should happen next.
Out of options, Madison tumbled ahead with her last resort, “I’m going to my high school reunion. It’s not for a while yet, and I don’t know… I mean, you can’t tell—”
“You need this!” the woman squealed as she stuck her hand under her top and whipped out a little round pillow, then held it out for Madison, whose gaze dropped to the empty space that had been filled by the woman’s rounded tummy.
“Strap this on and you’ll be able to see what the dress will look like in a couple months…or weeks…depending.” She brightened. “Okay? How’s that?”
Swept up into the beautiful absurdity of the pillow thing, Madison asked, “That’ll make me look pregnant?”
“Yes, it sure will.”
“Do you sell those?”
The cute little thing, Madison’s original salesgirl, chose that exact time to reappear.
They exchanged confused glances, then answered simultaneously, “Um…no.”
Then the woman who’d handed over the pillow smiled. “Of course you’re anxious for everyone to know. I understand. Really.” She reached out and touched Madison’s arm. “You’ll be showing soon enough. Really.”
The cute girl half-smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want some crackers? Water?”
“No thanks.” Madison tucked the pillow under one arm and grabbed two black dresses off the rack. “Can I try these on?”
Relief washed over all their faces. The salesgirls’ because they were, at least temporarily, rid of Madison, and Madison’s because she may have actually found the thing that was going to make that reunion bearable. Surely she could get one of those pillows online. Once she was neatly ensconced in the fitting room, she whipped off her clothes and slapped on the tummy pillow. Sure, without any clothes over it, it looked damn stupid, but that didn’t matter.
Just as Madison was about to slip the first dress over her head, her cell went off.
Tia.
Setting the dress down, Madison hissed, “What now?”
“How are you going to get Drew if you’re pregnant?”
“I’m not going to the reunion to ‘get Drew’,” she lied.
“Still lying to yourself?”
Madison turned her back to the door, hoping not to offend the delicate ears of the expectant moms. “Fuck you.”
“I thought of something else.”
“What?”
“How do you expect to get away with this whole thing? Yeah, you could probably fool everyone for a night, but what are you going to tell anyone you see later on when they ask how the baby is doing?”
Madison patted her pillow baby. “I don’t know.” She pushed logic aside. “I never see anybody from high school. Why would I want to?”
“Well, if you want to go that route, we can go back to trying to figure out why you think you need a baby and husband to show up a bunch of people you don’t care about. If you don’t care, then why the bother?”
Deep inside, Madison knew the reason had something to do with her. Something she really didn’t want to think about, and had been avoiding thinking about for a while now. Honestly, she didn’t really care what they thought of her. But she did care about what she thought of herself. Admitting that she hadn’t accomplished any of the things that she’d planned on doing was…unthinkable.
But avoidable. As long as she kept avoiding it, that was.
Tia cut into the silence, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. “Madison?”
“Yeah?”
“You can’t do this, you know.”
“Did you know they make sexy maternity lingerie?”
“Really? With lace?”
“They make cocktail dresses, too.”
After a pause, Tia caught on to Madison’s distraction tactic. “You don’t get to be the sexy pregnant woman whose rich husband is out of town.”
Madison ran her fingers over the silky fabric of the dress she had been about to try on. “I know. But you have to admit it was a pretty good idea.”
“It was a good idea. And when you really are expecting, I promise to take you shopping and buy you a knockout maternity bra and panty set. Deal?”
Back to square one. Madison unstrapped the pillow baby. “Deal.”
“Coffee at The Vine after work?”
“You mean after you get off work.”
“Fine. Be that way.”
“Yes, the unemployed set is available for caffeinated beverages after the employed set has finished work for the day.”
“Over and out.” Tia clicked off.
Madison slumped into the oversized yellow and white striped chair and stared at the delicate, gold-framed, floral prints hanging beside the extra wide doorway. She closed her eyes and merged with the chair, relaxing and trying to forget about her dilemma. The mini-meditation worked—until a distantly familiar voice chased away all traces of Zen-like peace.
“Don’t you have anything smaller than this small? Can’t you see she needs a smaller size?”
The voice of the cute salesgirl was reassuring. “Yes, of course, Ms. Williams. I’ll look in back. We got a new shipment last night—spring dresses—I think. Maybe we can find something in there.”
“We don’t have to go through all this hassle, Sandra. I’m not going to be on stage, you are.”
Sandra?
Sandra Williams?
“You’re my sister. You have to look great, too.”
There was a pause as the salesgirl arrived with some dresses, then the pitch-perfect voice sang on. “Try this blue one on—it’ll be perfect with your eyes.”
Sandra and Katie Williams?
Fuck.
As if only one perfect girl wasn’t enough?
There was the rustle of clothing, then Sandra’s well loved voice interrupted Madison’s grief. “It’s been forever since we’ve been back. I can’t remember what it looks like. Do you think the stage will be big enough?”
For your head?
No.
“I don’t know,” Katie replied. “Your set is pretty wide.”
“I almost said no when they asked me to sing, but I’m glad I changed my mind. It’ll be fun. Seeing everyone, and catching up.”
Madison picked up the baby pillow, clutching it to her chest and resisting the ugly truth. But it insisted on making itself known. It was bad enough that everyone—teachers, students, administrators, even the janitors—loved ‘talented’ Sandra and her ‘smart’ twin sister Katie back in high school, but did they have to keep loving them still? Even five years later?
Now, with stupid Sandra up on stage being all talented and up-and-coming, Madison was going to look like even more of a failure. She dropped the pillow. Her pathetic attempts seemed even more depressingly pathetic now.
* * * *
Clutching a just bought pint of Graeter’s Bourbon Pecan Chocolate Chip ice cream, Madison slipped into her apartment, ducked through her hallway, grabbed a spoon from her drawer and hopped up onto the kitchenette counter. She stabbed into the ice cream, scooped up a giant mouthful and stuffed it in. The ice cream melted, leaving the hunks of chocolate and yummy pecans behind. She crushed them down and swallowed. Then started the process all over again.
Then again.
Delish.
Madison stretched out her leg and poked the edges of the fern with the tip of her shoe. A few leaves dropped, but for the most part, it bounced back. “Good for you,” she muttered around a mouthful of pecans.
Beside her, her phone blinked.
Drew: Hey. Good news. Tasha Anders and Scott Neville took over the Swag ‘n’ Tag committee. No more work for us!
&n
bsp; She frowned. Worst day ever had actually gotten even worse.
Madison: Okay.
Drew: Send me what you have and I’ll pass it over to them.
Madison shoved another giant spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.
Madison: Sure.
Drew: Pretty awesome, huh?
Madison let the ice cream melt then chewed the pecans and chocolate.
Madison: Yeah. I’ll send the stuff tomorrow.
Drew: Perfect. Can’t wait to see you.
She reached up and wiped some melted ice cream from her chin. You could see me right now. All you have to do is ask. He didn’t mean that he really did want to see her.
Madison: I know. Soon.
Drew: See ya!
Madison: Bye.
Madison, shoulders slumped, filled her mouth with the last of the ice cream. And so she was truly right back where she’d started.
Chapter Nine
Sexy Afterglow
“Not the biggest response I’ve seen, but okay.” Mr. Moonilgio folded his bony arms and stared at Madison with his bleary, seen-it-all gaze. “Your voice is nice. The crowd liked you some.”
He turned his pointy chin, scanning the mix of people in the audience, and Madison looked with him. The couples were trying to look cool, unattached and with it—essentially they were trying to look like the singles—and the singles were trying to look together, forward-thinking and date worthy—essentially they were trying to look like the couples.
All in all, they were what you’d expect for the given situation, but Mr. Moonilgio wasn’t satisfied. “The door was okay, but the bar isn’t doing that well. That’s where the money is, you know. I don’t give a shit if they like the show—really, all that matters is how much they drink. I’m not going to make any money on you. I’m going to make money on the drinks they buy while watching you.” He looked her up and down, saying pointedly, “You need to sex it up. That’ll get ‘em to buy drinks.”
Bar managers. Rude assholes, all of them.
Madison resisted telling him to go fuck himself and rallied her wavering self-confidence. “Do you want me to come back?”
Mr. Moonilgio considered. “Can you wear something short and tight next time?”
“Are you serious?”
“Are you serious about wanting to come back?”
So. There it was. “Yes. And yes.”
“We’ve got ourselves a deal, then. Friday nights are busy. Be here tomorrow at six. You’ll go on at seven, as the warm-up. Do something that makes them want drinks. Same deal on Saturday. We’ll see about Sunday or next week later.”
At least he wasn’t going to make her flirt with him. He strolled off in one direction, and she very gladly went off in the other.
Thankful to have that over with, and glad she had something going on, Madison cut through the crowd and headed to the upstairs bar. The bartender, a blonde with two studs in her left eyebrow, scooted over, grinning. “First one’s on me. That was a hot set.”
“Mr. Moonilgio didn’t think so.”
“He’s a guy, what does he know?”
She had a point. Madison shrugged.
“What can I get you?”
“Green apple martini?”
“Good choice.” The blonde pushed herself away from the bar, adding over her shoulder, “I’ll make it special.”
Was that a wink? Or the lights playing tricks?
The upstairs was a hell of a lot quieter than the scene downstairs. In fact, it had a different atmosphere altogether. Softer, with quiet, couch filled corners. Sort of a coffee house thing only with drinks. Not bad at all, a girl could be real comfortable.
“Here you are, darlin’.”
Madison thanked the bartender, then gazed into the huge glass. The blonde lingered nearby, obviously awaiting approval. When Madison lifted the drink, she nearly had to steady herself against the top-heavy weight of the glass, but she managed to lick a bit of salt from the rim and take a fairly small sip. The liquid rolled down the back of her throat.
“Good stuff,” she said, after she swallowed.
“Yes. It is.” The girl grinned, touching the long layers of perfect hair caressing her cheek. “You let me know if you need anything at all, ya hear?”
“Sure thing.” When Madison took another sip, the woman scooted away, leaving her alone. Except for the drink, which was big enough to count as a companion.
“Jackie makes a damn good martini, doesn’t she?”
Madison licked the salty sweetness from her upper lip. “Best thing I’ve had all day.”
The newcomer climbed up onto the stool next to Madison’s. Once she had herself situated, she leaned in with a smile. “Unexpected, hmmm?”
In the back of her mind, a memo board flashed, but Madison, charmed by the drink and curious about the girl, ignored it. Whatever it was that the memo said couldn’t be that important. If it were, it wouldn’t be on that backboard. It would be up front, shouting, read me! But it wasn’t up front. It was in the back. So she ignored it and took another sip of her drink.
“I think the unexpected things are the best. Don’t you?”
Thinking of that stinking valentine from hell, and the snotty bitches who’d sent it, Madison curled her lip and shook her head. “No. I really like to know what I’m dealing with ahead of time. No surprises for me.”
The other girl lifted a dark eyebrow. “Really? You’re a straight-up type of girl?”
“That’s right. That’s me.”
“Not too straight, I hope.”
“No,” she blurted out. Thinking of everything she’d gone through, between getting that dumb-ass invitation and landing the big three-night gig, she added, “Not at all.”
The other girl tipped her head, peering out from under long lashes, and said, “I’m really, really glad about that,” then waved to Jackie. “I’d like one of those,” she said, pointing to Madison’s half-empty green apple martini.
Jackie cast the newcomer a look.
Disapproving?
Annoyed?
Madison couldn’t quite make it out. Whatever it was, it was still on her face when she set the drink down. “Twelve fifty.”
“Start me a tab.”
Jackie made a face, but agreed with, “Sure thing.”
“Don’t mind her, she’s just like that. Doesn’t like to see other people having a good time.”
“Why is she a bartender then?”
“Good question.” The girl took a sip. “My name’s Holly.”
“Madison.”
She grinned as she took a long, slow drink. After licking away the tiny grains of salt stuck to her lip, she murmured, “I saw your set. Good stuff.”
“Mr. Moonilgio asked me to come back, but he told me to wear something tight.”
Holly gave her a slow up and down. “You’re perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Madison shrugged, said thanks, but a weird sensation made her fidget and reach for her drink. They sat like that for a while, Madison wiggling and gulping her drink, not at all sure what to do next, and Holly, drinking, smiling and seeming totally sure of everything.
After a while of that, Holly set her glass down. “My cousin used to book the acts for this place, but he and Mr. Moonilgio got in a fight over something totally stupid. I stayed out of it—I work in the office and didn’t want to lose my job.” She pulled back a bit and straightened her shoulders. “Mr. Moonilgio and are I buddies. He listens to me.”
“You girls need another?”
Jackie was back, without the weird, indecipherable expression.
Holly didn’t waste any time answering for them both. “Please. Add ‘em both to my tab.”
The bartender swept away the empty glasses.
Madison didn’t need another drink, but Holly was talking again, saying something about talking to Mr. Moonilgio about letting Madison wear whatever she wanted and keeping her around for a long, long time.
It was a bit odd, having some gi
rl she’d just met order a drink for her, but not odd enough to keep Madison from taking a sip of it once it arrived. “You don’t have to pay for my drink. I may look like a starving actress-slash-singer, but—”
“This one’s on me. No discussion.”
Madison took another sip. “Okay…”
“So. We were talking about your future.”
“We were?”
“That’s right.” Holly scooted so close that her thigh was smashed against Madison’s. “You have a demo?”
That memo, the one in the back of Madison’s mind that she’d ignored a while ago, suddenly seemed to matter. She started digging through her mental filling cabinet, trying to find it, but Holly was stroking the tops of her thighs with long, languid motions, making it really hard to think straight.
Then, the girl leaned in to put her other hand on Madison’s other thigh, saying, “If you do have a demo, you should get it to me.” More rubbing, then, “Mr. Moonilgio isn’t my only friend in the business.” Pressure on the inside of both her thighs, followed by, “I have another friend. He picks the stuff for the locals show, 98.6. You know, that show they have on Tuesday nights? The one that features local talent?”
“Damn it, Holly, I told you if I caught you up here again, you’d be fi—”
“Oh, Mr. M—I was just,” Holly leaped to her feet, all traces of sexy relaxation gone as she offered Mr. Moonilgio an apologetic smile, “Madison was just stressed about her set, worried. I—I was trying—”
“I know what you were trying to do.” He pointed to the stairs. “Get the hell out of here, and leave the talent alone.”
Holly had no apologetic smile for Madison, just a quick, “See ya,” as she snatched her drink and raced off.
Chapter Ten
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
“You know, I really am sorry about…last night…about…”
Grrr…
A girl should be able to get ready for her set without people—especially sexy people who are liars—popping into the tiny closet being passed off as a dressing room. Madison stopped in mid sweep, and put her blush brush on the cardboard box she’d set up as a makeshift dressing table. “You’re a girl. You shouldn’t play like that. That crap about Mr. Moonilgio listening to you?”
Off the Rails Page 8