Palm Springs Heat

by DC Thome

  “I mean, really.” Chartre tossed the offending garment aside like a used dish rag. “I damn well better be at the top of my game if we’re going to give this lovely creature a fitting welcome into The Rotation.”

  What?

  Lara looked at Clay. “What?”

  “That’s a good question.”

  “Oh, dear.” For the first time since Lara met him, Chartre was at a loss for words.

  Clay, who had been reclining on the bed, stood up. “Are you saying Shush went ahead and…”

  The color drained from Chartre’s face. “All I know is that I was told this was a Rotation fitting.”

  A brusque voice came from near the door. “You were told correctly.”

  Everyone turned to see Sushma standing in the doorway, her arms crossed. “And, you are correct that everyone”—she shot a venomous glance at Clay—“had better be at the top of his game.”

  Sushma crossed the room toward Lara. Looking at Lara but talking to Clay, she said, “My, but she is as lovely as I have been led to believe. I am Sushma Vishnuveda.”

  She extended her hand.

  9

  “You do brighten a room, Shush,” Clay said.

  Sushma ignored Clay. “How is the fitting going, Miss Dixon?”

  Fitting?

  “You know, it might have been a good idea to ask Lara about it first.”

  “Why? Is this not what she wanted? Miss Dixon, is this not what you wanted?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about being in The Rotation.” Lara felt her training on how to lie kicking into high gear.

  “Apparently, doing things without thinking is quite in fashion around here.” Sushma directed her deadpan gaze at Clay. “We need to talk.”

  “My schedule’s pretty open all afternoon,” Clay responded.

  “Your schedule is open right now.” Sushma marched toward the door.

  “I’m not exactly dressed.”

  Sushma stopped. “I have seen you wearing less.” She looked coyly in Lara’s direction. Taking it as a show of dominance, Lara countered by tilting her head, narrowing her eyes and staring back at Sushma.

  You may have been here first but I’m here now.

  “Now’s as good a time for a business meeting as any, I guess.” Clay shrugged and gave Lara a peck on the cheek.

  Chartre exhaled after Sushma and Clay were gone. “That was awkward,” he said. “Where were we?” The blond assistant named Gina brought him a knee-length dress.

  “Don’t worry, my dear.” Chartre held the dress up to Lara. “I’m sure you’re going to love being a part of The Rotation. All the girls do.”

  He shook his head and tossed the dress aside.

  * * *

  Sushma followed Clay into the living room and shut the door behind her.

  “Whatever happened to work/life balance?” Clay quipped.

  “Do you think the paparazzi have heard of work/life balance?”

  She pressed a button on her phone and handed it to Clay. He watched a video of his and Lara’s bungling attempts to hook up on the salt flat.

  “Not exactly triple-X material,” he said.

  “No, but it is material that we cannot control—and your ill-considered escapade at Rev already has people asking whether this woman is Sun’s replacement.”

  “I guess we know the answer to that question. So she checks out?”

  “I have not been able to have her fully vetted.”

  Clay chewed on his lower lip. “Okay, you got me. No one gets into The Rotation without being fully vetted, but you just stuck Lara into The Rotation because she’s not fully vetted?”

  “You and your public antics with her gave me no choice.”

  “Now I get it. It’s easier to keep an eye on her if she’s on the inside.”

  Sushma just looked at him with gunslinger eyes.

  Clay tightened the towel around his waist. “What if she doesn’t check out? What if she was arrested for prostitution when she was fifteen, like Miriamne?”

  “You do not know what goes on right before your very eyes!” Sushma waved her hands in Clay’s face. “The arrest was not the only issue with Miriamne. It was the fact that she turned out to be only seventeen. And even though we found out before she was officially announced, it took a supreme effort to prevent her from becoming a serious problem.”

  Clay studied Sushma’s face. There’s something fishy about this. “I know what’s really going on,” he said. “You’re scared.”

  “Scared of what?” Anger flashed in Sushma’s eyes.

  “You’re worried things are going to change around here.”

  “Change I can contend with.” She jabbed Clay’s chest. “But she is a cipher, and that is a very bad sign. It is as if she has taken pains to cover her tracks.”

  Clay rubbed the red mark Sushma’s fingernail made on his chest. “She was married to a movie producer! You know all about that.”

  “A B-movie producer, which is another thing I do not like about her. Her husband made tawdry films, and she was surprised to discover him cavorting with bimbos in a hot tub?”

  “She’s, I don’t know…sweet.”

  “‘Sweet’? Oh, my fucking god, can you even hear yourself speaking?”

  “What’s wrong with sweet?”

  “‘Sweet’ is just one more reason to be suspicious. I have never met anyone ‘sweet’ whom I could trust.”

  Clay laughed and plopped into a big, soft chair.

  “So you think—what? That Lara’s some devious she-devil who’s putting on an act to lull me into complacency? A Trojan horse bent on destroying me? Why?”

  “I can think of one-point-two billion reasons.”

  “You are a piece of work, Shush. So hard-boiled and cynical.”

  “Cynical, worldly wise—call it what you will, Clayton Albert Creighton. My eyes are open.”

  “Everyone around me is so ‘worldly wise.’ That’s what’s so fascinating about Lara. She’s naïve.”

  “A resounding endorsement.”

  “It’s not an endorsement. It’s refreshing.” Beat that.

  Sushma calmly checked her phone. “A pool of water can appear to be refreshing on a hot day,” she said without looking at Clay, “but that does not make it a good idea to dive in head-first without knowing its depth.”

  Damn!

  Clay looked at the floor. He knew that, from a business standpoint, Sushma was right. He had started to think Lara could be the woman who would end The Rotation. But, in business, one must proceed with caution. If bringing Lara to Rev and being seen with her at the salt flats had triggered an avalanche of speculation, it would be better for Fast Lane to make Lara official, hope for the best, and dispatch her if a problem arose. That way, it would look as though Lara had deceived them, and that would corral valuable sympathy points from the media. Cold-hearted. But that was business.

  “So, what do I tell Lara?”

  “You believe that she will check out?”

  Clay nodded.

  “Then what reason could there be for telling her anything?” Sushma spun on her heels and left.

  How does this stuff get so complicated? Clay tightened the towel again and headed back into the bedroom.

  * * *

  The fun evaporated from the fashion session after Sushma’s appearance. Chartre kept throwing things around the room and tugging and pulling on Lara, but Lara focused on what might happen next. What if they know about Gina and HardCoreGrrrls?

  When Clay returned, Lara studied his face. “Is everything all right?”

  “Of course,” he said, putting his hands on her waist. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  He kissed her, right in front of Chartre and the assistants.

  Chartre tapped his foot and drummed his fingers until he couldn’t take it anymore. “You know, some of us wage slaves might be interested in taking a few minutes off on The Lord’s Day.”

  Clay ignored him. “Are you okay with these new developments?”


  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Of course you have a choice. It’s not company policy to force anyone to be in The Rotation.”

  “It’s what we talked about last night, isn’t it?”

  “Chartre, give us a minute, will you?”

  “Always the same: Hurry up and wait.” He snapped his fingers and the assistants followed him out of the room.

  Clay took Lara’s hands in his. “Sushma’s kind of—how do I say this? Suspicious.”

  “Ya think?”

  Clay chuckled. “She’s done a lot of work, so it’s understandable that she’d be overprotective of the company. After you and I were seen together, the media got all revved up, and she thought she had to do something.”

  “Sun Tzu. She wants me close so she can keep an eye on me.”

  “Can you handle that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “That’s exactly what I said.” Clay smiled. “I have to go back to Hollywood to take care of some apparently urgent business. They’ll keep you pretty busy here for the rest of the day, but we’ll see each other again tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Sure. Yeah, that sounds fine. Great, actually.”

  Clay kissed her and started collecting his clothes. “Don’t let anyone or anything get under your skin. Just keep reminding yourself it’s all good.”

  Lara and Clay kissed again, but before they were finished, Chartre came back into the room and harrumphed. “I assume the business part of this meeting is over?”

  Clay slapped Chartre on the arm on his way out and gave Lara one last golden-eyed smile.

  Chartre snapped his fingers, and the assistants came back into the room. Chartre pointed at a rack of clothes and said, “That one.” The redheaded assistant handed a top to Chartre, and he held it up to Lara’s torso. The neckline consisted of heavy silver rings that resembled a dog collar.

  * * *

  Three hours later, Lara wrapped a big, fuzzy robe around herself and flopped onto the bed. Who would’ve thought trying on clothes and shoes could be so exhausting? The mountain of clothes was so tall and dense it muted the sound of the waterfall.

  Lara’s mind spun like a wheel, bouncing from Clay to Sushma to The Rotation to her mission. She had known Clay for less than a week, but they had already shared some amazing moments, as though they were genuinely connecting. On the other hand, getting into The Rotation seemed way too easy. She shoved some clothes aside to let the tranquil murmur of the water work its magic. In no time, she was floating in a pool of warm comfort.

  A knock on the door put an end to that. Lara tripped over shoes as she groggily made her way to the outer suite. She opened the door to a perky nineteen-year-old who resembled a blond Lhasa apso with pink highlights wearing a miniskirted candy striper outfit, bejeweled flip-flops and nerd glasses.

  “Hi,” the candy striper chirped in a voice so cute Lara want to pinch its cheeks, “I’m Tiffany, and Ms. V said I’m supposed to escort you to your meeting.”

  “I’m having a meeting?”

  “One sec.” Tiffany checked a text on her phone and said, “Okay. That makes more sense. I’m also supposed to tell you about the meeting.”

  “What is this meeting about?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t know that. I’m just a, you know, gofer and all.”

  “Can you tell me who it’s with?”

  Tiffany shrugged.

  “When it is?”

  “Yeah. They told me that.” Tiffany nodded, but said nothing more.

  “Well?”

  “Oh—you want me to say.”

  Lara nodded.

  “Um, right now.”

  “Right now?”

  “That’s cool, right? I mean, if you already had your phone, and everything, I guess they could have just called you.”

  “My phone?”

  “Everyone at Fast Lane gets a phone. An excellent one.” Tiffany held up her company-issued phone. It was ensconced in a fuzzy aquamarine leopard-print case that made it look like a high-tech Muppet.

  “Nice case,” Lara said.

  “You can get, like, a million different cases so you can match them with your outfits. I mean, if you’re that kind of person.”

  “An animal print with stripes?”

  “I’m not that kind of person.”

  “I see.” Lara watched Tiffany come into the room and look around. “I have to get dressed now.”

  “Cool.”

  Lara moved back into the bedroom to look for something to wear. She didn’t expect Tiffany to follow her to the mountain of clothes.

  Okay…“Do you have any idea what the meeting is supposed to be about?”

  “I’m just a—”

  “Gofer, I know.”

  “Actually, I’m an intern. Maybe they just want to give you your phone.”

  That helps.

  “OMG! They gave you the DK!” Tiffany ripped a sequin-covered tank top from the middle of the pile, held it up to her scrawny torso and checked herself out in the mirrored glass wall. “Completely boss!”

  “I should wear that to the meeting?”

  “Tae-Q totally would. But she’s, like, ‘If there’s a rule, I’m breaking it.’”

  “Tae-Q?”

  Tiffany looked embarrassed. “Taequanda lets me call her that. But, you know, only when no one else can hear. It’s, like, a between-girls thing, you know?”

  “I do.”

  “So, you won’t tell her?”

  “Tell her what?” Lara smiled.

  The guilty look left Tiffany’s face.

  “I don’t know if I’m like ‘if there’s a rule, I’m breaking it,’” Lara said as she rescued a staid pencil skirt and a soft white button-down blouse from the pile. “These are more my style. What do you think?”

  Tiffany put down the tank, walked up close to Lara, pushed her glasses to the end of her nose and leaned way back. “It’s kind of, you know—briefcase-y. For a Sunday afternoon, I mean.”

  “How about this?” Lara said, holding up a black washed silk sundress with an African-influenced beaded neckline.

  Tiffany nodded her approval. “With the Latin sandals.”

  “These?” Lara nudged a pair of flat sandals with a large black silk flower adorning the leather upper strap.

  “Those rule.” Tiffany slipped out of one flip-flop and held her bare foot next to the sandal. “They totally go, dontcha think?”

  Lara nodded. “So, I’ll be getting dressed now.”

  “Cool.” Tiffany continued rummaging through Lara’s new clothes.

  “Could you, maybe, wait for me out in the other room?”

  Tiffany kept rummaging. “I’m good.”

  Lara thought about pressing the issue, then decided it wasn’t worth it. Maybe having people watching you get dressed and undressed is part of the corporate culture. She slipped into the bathroom, got dressed and emerged a few minutes later.

  “How do I look?”

  “Excellent. Way excellent. Let’s rock.”

  “Almost.” Lara peered at the glass wall and tried to straighten out her hair.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Tiffany said. “Your hair looks awesome.”

  “It’s been through the wringer,” Lara protested.

  “Just do this.” Tiffany pushed the hair off Lara’s forehead.

  Lara scowled and quickly pushed it back. “You’re right. It looks good enough.” Tiffany recoiled. Lara softened her tone. “After all, it’s Sunday afternoon. Lead the way.”

  So Tiffany led the way down the hall, onto an elevator and past the front desk to a door Tiffany opened with a wave of her phone. Lara couldn’t take her eyes off the burnished bronze “Employees Only” plaque on the door as she passed over the threshold from what her life had been for thirty-two years to whatever it was about to become.

  10

  The door led into a long corridor lined with offices and conference rooms.

  “Third door from the right.” Tiffany bounded
ahead, parked in the doorway and smiled.

  Being herded again.

  Lara stopped short of the door, her heart racing, palms sweating. The latter was bad. A telltale sign of lying.

  “Don’t worry.” Tiffany’s wide eyes gleamed through the cascade of silky hair hanging over her face. “You’ll kill.”

  The girl’s confidence was infectious. Lara wiped her hands on her skirt, straightened her back, took a deep breath and proceeded into the room.

  Three people—two women and a man—huddled around a desk, looking over a stack of papers. One woman was about Lara’s age, the other in her mid-twenties. The man looked about fifty and was the epitome of distinguished. All three wore suits.

  Uh-oh.

  The woman who was Lara’s age looked up and smiled.

  “Miss Dixon, I’m Candy Kane,” she said as she walked toward Lara, “lead counsel for Fast Lane Enterprises.”

  “Candy Kane?” Lara hadn’t recognized her, but the name stuck out from the list of former members of The Rotation. As they shook hands, Lara tried to connect the name to the photo she’d seen.

  “My father thought that was a good idea.”

  “Oh, no,” Lara said, sensing a need to cover up a faux pas. She did not want to make Fast Lane’s top lawyer uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean—”

  “No worries. My dad’s name was Dick, but everyone called him ‘Sugar.’ He always said no one could dislike someone with a nickname, so he cut right to the chase with me.”

  Her smile was so warm and welcoming that Lara could feel her blood pressure ease down a notch.

  “Lara, Rafael del Lago. Meilani Ma’atupu.”

  Lara shook their hands, too.

  “Rafe is V.P. of corporate communications; Meilani’s in charge of new media.”

  “I’m sure it’s been a whirlwind for you,” Rafe said reassuringly. “To have so much thrown at you so fast must certainly be a little daunting.”

  A little?

  “I’m sure it is.” Candy had one mode—businesslike. “But Mr. Creighton wanted to make sure certain formalities were taken care of right away.”