by K A Young
“Congratulations!” Mary bellowed as she continued to blow that damn horn.
“What. The. Hell?” I screamed at Mary while I crawled around and tried to get up off the floor. My gorgeous updo got tangled in Liz’s bracelet.
“Hold still, Phoebe, and I’ll get your hair loose.” The tears were now welling up in my eyes as I felt Liz rip a small bit of my hair out. It wasn’t the pain; it was the anger I felt that had me ready to commit murder. My dress, my stunning seven thousand effing dollar dress could have been ruined. Consequentially, that would financially ruin me! I ran my hands all down the sides and back to ensure I was okay. “It’s fine,” Liz comforted me, then turned around for an inspection of her dress.
“It’s all right, thank God!” I blew out a breath and checked my hair in the mirror by the elevators, horrified at the reflection that stared back at me. I stormed at Mary and shouted, “You crazy, sweatpants-wearing, unibrowed fool! What the hell were you thinking? My hair is ruined!” My voice continued to rise and effectively threw my hopes of emerging as a sophisticated woman out the effing window.
Mary’s bottom lip began to quiver and I felt like a heel. “No, Mary.” Liz was by her side, patting her shoulder. “Phoebe didn’t mean it. It’s just that we have this important banquet to attend and her hair got ruined. I mean, look at her,” Liz giggled and pointed at my hair. Mary wiped her nose on her sleeve and chuckled.
“Yeah, you do look kinda funny.” I held my tongue as I felt my face heat up, spun around, and marched toward the front door.
“Phoebs, wait up!” Liz called at my back.
Then Mary, that nut bag Hairy Mary, blew the air horn again before she shouted, “See you two in a few!” Whatever.
The driver stepped back as he took in my disheveled appearance, but got it together and opened the car door for me. There were glasses of champagne waiting and I took full advantage of the free booze, drinking both Liz’s and mine.
“Phoebs, don’t be that way.” She took out a brush from her clutch and went to work on my hair. “I just didn’t want Mary to get her feelings hurt. She’s a fragile soul, after all.”
“When did you become Hairy Mary’s BFF? What about me?” I sniffed, “I was ready to let all my hot-headed ways go and become a sophisticated businesswoman. She ruined it!” I was pouting and I didn’t care. This was supposed to be my night, the night when my life changed for the better.
“But it’s the hot-headed crazy American and Brit that got us where we are today. There.” She sat back and handed me a mirror. Huh, not bad.
“What if it had been your hair that got messed up?” I righted myself in the seat.
“Oh, I would have killed her right there and smiled while the cops hauled me away.”
“Good.” I refilled her glass with champagne and passed it over to her.
The alcohol was improving my mood by leaps and bounds. “You know, I’ve been thinking about our reputation for being walking disaster magnets.”
“Uh huh.” That Liz brushed it off as common knowledge was a bit telling.
“The way I see it, we aren’t really disasters. We’re just colorful and over-expressive, and sometimes that has a few unwanted side effects.”
“Right you are!” Liz and I clinked glasses.
Lizbeth
And The Award Goes To….
“Step back in time to the opulent splendor of the Egyptian Pharaohs or into the mystique of a Middle Eastern palace. The Egyptian Ballroom is lavishly decorated with sweeping columns and ornamentation, creating the perfect setting for weddings and receptions, corporate events, and association functions. From a luncheon or dinner to a pre-show cocktail party, or a post-show dessert extravaganza, we have set the stage with elegance and fantasy.” I smiled at Phoebe after reading information on the Fox’s website about the ballroom where the awards ceremony was being held. Phoebe, who was now relaxing after her tragic ordeal with Hairy Mary, sipped on some champagne and smiled back. “How nice this place must be,” I remarked as a bout of nerves crept back in.
“It is nice. I’ve never been in the Egyptian Ballroom, except once on a tour of the Fox. I’m beyond excited to be attending an event held there.” She topped both our glasses off.
“Lean in, Phoebs.” She did, and held up her glass as I snapped selfies with my mobile.
“Oh wait.” She placed her glass into the holder and adjusted her boobs. Laughing, I waited until she was satisfied with the amount of cleavage she was showing. “There. The perfect amount of cleave,” Phoebe laughed. “I like to stay right in that fine line between elegant and slutty.”
“Of course.” We took a few more pics and posted them to Facebook before I sat back and read the road signs from the window. When we drove onto Peachtree Street, the location of the theater, my heart skipped a beat. It was right in the heart of a city that thrummed with an energy that was unlike any other I’d ever experienced.
“Look, Phoebs!” As I leaned closer to the window I gazed up at the red vertical ornate Fox sign with the letters lit up in lights.
She leaned on top of my back to peer out the window. “Oh Liz! I’m so excited I think I’m going to wet myself.” I was having the same issue. God we were a pair. “Are you sure my hair looks good?”
“I promise.” My hands were literally shaking as the driver came to open the door. This fake-it-till-you-make-it crap was actually working and stage fright was setting in in a major way.
As I stepped onto the red carpet I was awestruck. It was an experience that I would never forget. Phoebe had stars in her eyes as she took the driver’s hand for him to help her out of the car. She and I were both trying not to grin like idiots as we walked into the theater. The place was full of people in the industry. Phoebe and I only knew the ones we worked with at Anderson Media. “Oh Phoebe, I’m not sure we belong here.”
“Yes, we do,” Phoebe said imperiously. That was what I loved about Phoebe. She took charge of any given situation. She didn’t think anyone was any better than she was and she insisted on me feeling the same. I was working on it. Over the years she’d attempted to instill in me, People are just people, Liz. It doesn’t matter if they have more than you do or think more of themselves, the fact remains the same. They enter and leave this world the same as everyone else. She was right; the queen herself farted like the rest of us.
“Ladies,” Mr. Gary Anderson approached us, all spiffed up in a coat and tails. “You both look gorgeous!” He wedged himself between Phoebe and me, extending each of us an arm, which we took with only a moment's hesitation and allowed him to escort us to where the drinks were being served.
We spent the next twenty minutes being introduced to all of his colleagues and competitors in the field. Phoebe and I smiled brightly and nodded politely at the appropriate times. I spied Jake over in the corner. He appeared to still brood about the whole party incident. He really could be a pain in the arse. We’d apologized; what more did he want from us? As I shifted my weight between my feet I leaned over to Phoebe who was sipping on a dirty martini and whispered, “My feet are killing me.”
Phoebe looked down at my feet then back up at me. “They’re Manolo Blahniks.”
“And,” I made a face, “they’re pinching my pinky toes. I’m going to have to find our seats soon.”
“Gary!” A gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair sidled up beside me and extended his hand to Mr. Gary Anderson.
“Anthony, good to see you.” Mr. Gary Anderson didn’t sound like he really thought it was good.
This Anthony character didn’t seem to care in the slightest. “This must be the new talent shaking the industry.” I spared a glance at Phoebe who grinned from ear to ear.
“This is our American and Brit.” Mr. Gary Anderson began pissing around us to mark his territory. “May I introduce Lizbeth Bates and Phoebe Hawkins, Anderson Media’s pride and joy.” Okay, he was laying it on thick.
“Hi.” Phoebe stepped forward and took the man’s hand the second he extende
d it.
“It’s so very nice to put a face with a name.” Oh good, he hadn’t seen me getting puked on. “I’m Anthony Armada with Kline Media.” Oh, I thought I recognized that name. “If you girls have a few minutes I’d love to bend your ear.”
“I’m afraid they don’t have a minute, Anthony. We try not to talk shop on our nights out anyway. Let the girls enjoy their evening. It’s Anderson Media’s night to shine. If you will excuse us we have some people to greet.” Gary took both Phoebe and me by the arm and navigated us away from the competition.
Wow, totally didn’t see that one coming. Phoebe ate it up. She gave Anthony a tiny finger wave that caused him to laugh and then return her exact wave.
When Gary finally stepped away to have a one-on-one with brooding Jake I grabbed Phoebe’s arm. “Can you believe this?”
“Of course. I told you we were in high demand.” Phoebe took a sip of champagne from the glass she just took from a server going around. She winked at me. “It’s great isn’t it, Liz?”
“Overwhelming is what it is.” God, my feet were really killing me now. “I’ve got to get off my feet.”
Phoebe took the lead, leaned into the small group laughing it up, and tapped Gary on the shoulder. “We’ll see you inside. Liz and I are going to go find our seats.”
“Oh, of course girls, you go right ahead. I’ll see you in there in a few minutes.” Gary was really enjoying himself now that some of the competition had backed off. I wondered where John Thomas was. He had been elusive at the office and so far he hadn’t made an appearance here tonight. Hmm, I wondered if he’d left the company and Phoebe and I hadn’t noticed. I made a mental note to speak to Phoebe about this later.
Phoebe and I made our way through the crowd and into the Egyptian Ballroom. We handed our invitation to the attendant and he directed us to our table. “Wow Liz,” Phoebe whispered with a sort of reverence in her tone. I felt exactly the same way. The room was elegantly decorated in silk linens; low candles burned on the tables around a stunning flower centerpiece. Our table was located at the far left of the room. Phoebe took quick shots of our place cards before we both were seated. We were the first ones at our table. Phoebe glanced over at the place card next to her. “Nope, not going to work.” She snatched the card off the table and placed it on the opposite side.
“Whose was that?” I asked out of sheer curiosity.
“Jake’s. There is no way on God’s green earth that I am going to let him ruin this night for me.” Then she paused as she read the card she switched. Her face went pale.
“What?” I was beginning to worry she was feeling ill on our big night.
Her eyes were wide when she handed me the card. Knowing Phoebe, she was probably overreacting. “Mary Bielawski!” I nearly shouted just as Jake the Bastard came in and took a seat beside me.
“I took it upon myself to invite a few of your friends tonight. It would be a shame for you girls not to have a full table on your big night.” He grinned and finished his drink, looking pleased with himself.
Phoebe shot to her feet and was reading the other cards. “He’s invited the brothers and Mickey too!”
“What?”
“Yes, you gals have really good taste in companions.” He chortled, “The stripper brothers top the charts.”
“Strippers?” What was he going on about? “Nathan and Alex are not strippers.”
“Oh, but they are.” He pulled out his phone and showed both Phoebe and me the brothers’ website. They were entertainers for bachelorette parties. In shock that the brothers stripped for hen parties, I sat back against my chair. No wonder they came home so late.
“What have you been doing, Jake? Spying on our friends?” Phoebe was furious.
“Phoebe, Liz!” We heard Hairy Mary shout. All heads turned toward the door where Hairy Mary, dressed in a purple velvet dress with puffed sleeves and a giant arse bow, came stomping in with her arm looped through Mickey’s. He was grinning ear to ear. Oh dear God! Right behind her were the strippers, er, Alex and Nathan. They looked hot in their tuxes.
I rose from the table to greet our group. Whether we’d invited them or not wasn’t the point; they were here for us and it was the polite thing to do. Phoebe didn’t budge so I pinched her. “Ouch, dammit, Liz!” she grumbled, but got the message and pasted a fake smile onto her face.
Jake was laughing it up as people started to file in. By the way our table was being gawked at it was obvious that Jake had spread his poison about the brothers to demean us. I felt indignant; it was an honest profession. They weren’t prostitutes. I hated the bastard now more than ever.
Mary grabbed both Phoebe and me. “Surprise!” she shouted right in our ears as she shook her head, and I noticed the giant purple banana clip in the back of her stiff hair.
“We’re so glad you could make it, Mary.” I smiled as politely as I could. Phoebe just sort of glared at her and gave a humph sound. Phoebe needed a real lesson in manners.
Mary didn’t seem to notice as she released us, sat down in her seat, and let out a loud whistle through her teeth. “Man this place is fancy. Come on, Derrick, sit your hot hiney down here.” She slapped the chair next to her. He grinned and made his way over to her. I nearly fainted when he kissed her on the lips.
“Holy hell,” Phoebe grumbled.
“Hi Alex, Nathan, it’s great to see you both.” I smiled as they joined us at the table.
“Yes, thank you both for coming. Derrick, it’s nice to see you too,” Phoebe said as she finally played her part appropriately.
He opened his mouth to speak when Mary held up her hand. “Remember the rules, hot stuff. No talky gets you all this.” She ran her hands down her figure and I nearly gagged. Mickey grinned and just waved at us.
“Alex and I weren’t sure if you girls would be happy to see us after last night,” Nathan said as the rest of us took our seats.
Jake’s ears perked. “And what happened last night?”
“Nothing!” Phoebe nearly shouted.
“Bill the doorman said you girls went to the hospital.” Nathan looked genuinely concerned.
Phoebe looked petrified; I really hoped she didn’t say anything regrettable. “He’s a liar!” Too late, she had. “So,” she looked around frantically. “Um, strippers, huh? Fascinating, tell us about it.” Oh bloody hell.
Nathan laughed. “We’re entertainers, not strippers.”
The lights flickered and the room went silent as a woman took the podium and Gary and his wife slipped into their seats at the table. An odd look exchanged between the other set of brothers at the table.
My feet were really killing me and now that the event was in full swing. I didn’t want to be in pain all night and ruin it. “Do you have any ibuprofen or Tylenol, Phoebs?”
“You have a headache?” Phoebe asked as she began opening her purse.
After I shook my head no I whispered, “It’s my feet. I swear those shoes are doing some serious damage to my toes.” What I really wanted to do was take them off, but they were fastened around the ankle and if by some crazy chance our name was called I wouldn’t have time to put them back on.
“Here,” Phoebe opened a prescription bottle. “Take two of these and they will fix you right up.”
“What are they?” I took the pills from her.
She waved her hand as if it were no big deal. “Just a couple of painkillers. They’re not that strong so you’ll need two.” Phoebe nodded. “This is a big night for us—you don’t want to be hurting all the way through it. Besides, we have enough to deal with now that Hairy Mary is here.” She was right. Popping the pills into my mouth I reached over and took a sip from her martini glass--I’d finished mine and nearly choked trying to swallow them without any liquid.
~ ~ ~
The awards seemed to drag on for hours. Who knew there were so many awards to hand out? Then it was finally our turn. I heard mine and Phoebe’s name being called. I reached out and held onto Phoebs’ hand under
the table. What if we did win?
Hairy Mary screamed and hooted for Phoebe and me. It was a little over the top, but not too bad. Then she did it! A loud air horn went off and everyone at our table and those nearby jumped. Phoebe was on her feet a second later and snatched that damn horn from Mary, who just let out a belly laugh and pointed at Phoebe “Your mean mugging needs some work, Phoebs.” Mickey squeaked along with her, enjoying Mary’s comment.
There it was again, that look of concern being passed between Jake and Gary. If Mary blew this job for us I’d risk her hair clogging up the toilet. Gary cleared his throat as Phoebe took her seat and the crowd cheered. We’d missed it! Who won? Everyone was looking our direction but I was unclear whether it was because of the loud interruption or because they were waiting for us to go and retrieve our award.
It seemed that our entire table missed it thanks to Hairy Mary. Phoebe and I exchanged looks, not sure what to do. “Go!” Gary encouraged both Phoebe and me. “You two must have won!” He was clapping and grinning, then proceeded to give us a standing ovation. Oh shit! We must have won!
Phoebe didn’t need to be told twice; she grabbed my hand and we were smiling and marching down to the front. Phoebe was waving to the crowd in excitement. This was amazing! I absolutely couldn’t believe our good fortune. What would I say? Oh God! Phoebe and I hadn’t even discussed our acceptance speech; truthfully we never even thought we had a chance at winning. Oh well, I’d wing it. “Just let me do the talking, Phoebe,” I whispered to her and she gave me a giant nod.
Halfway there we saw the two women who actually had won mount the stage and take their award. Oh hell! Phoebe’s smile dropped and I felt literally ill. What do we do now? Everyone was staring at us. Just then Phoebe began looking around then tried to play our blunder off. “We’re lost. Can you tell us where the little girls’ room is?” she whispered to one of the tables, who burst out laughing.
That did it. Not waiting for a response, she and I bolted out the side door.