by Tineka Brown
The whole apartment, actually.
“Is he still trying to get money from you?”
“I haven’t given him anything in months, Alex. Don’t worry.” Olympia looked at her friend with wide, earnest eyes. “But still — he took a lot while he was here. I think the reason I’m most excited is that this should be a good-paying gig. Maybe I’ll finally be able to get back on track with the mortgage on this place. Maybe I can dig myself out of the hole and actually move away, to somewhere Valentine doesn’t know. I hate that he knows my address, and my hours. It really scares me sometimes.”
Alex put a sympathetic hand on Olympia’s shoulder. “I get that. I do. Make sure this guy pays you what you’re worth — and hey, Vegas, baby! Maybe you’ll finally get that record deal.”
“Gosh… I sure hope so,” said Olympia, her face breaking into a smile. Valentine was in the past. She didn’t need to worry about him — as much as the thought of the man’s face still made her uncomfortable, singing was what really mattered to her, and he couldn’t take that away.
*****
The cab ride to the airport on Tuesday morning was a quick one. The midsummer sky was bright and blue even eight in the morning. Olympia yawned as she paid the driver, fighting off the remnants of yet another fitful sleep. It was a three-hour flight, she could nap on the plane.
She had packed relatively light, bringing a single suitcase full of clothes and a small selection of slinky, tight-fitting evening dresses. Olympia had never really thought of herself as a person with fashion sense; when she was singing, she dressed like the classy lounge singers that she’d always seen in movies from the 1950s. When she wasn’t working, she rarely made more effort than jeans and a plain white t-shirt.
In cases like these, it made it easier to pass through security — no jewelry to take off, just a pair of flat sneakers to slip out of. She was at the gate a good 45 minutes before boarding. Rather than sitting down, she turned and headed for the nearest coffee kiosk.
When she returned, Everett was sitting near the end of one of the aisles, talking to a black man wearing a rather loud shirt. Odd, thought Olympia. That shirt does look familiar.
Horror ran from the back of her spine to the pit of her stomach as she realized why she recognized the print.
Everett turned to look at her, and behind him, Valentine Romero offered a smile that was all teeth and no feeling.
“Good morning, Olympia,” Everett was saying. “Glad you were able to make it on time.”
Olympia nodded, barely hearing him, trying to keep her eyes fixed on the casino owner so that she could pretend that Valentine was just a vision brought on by lack of sleep. She took a sip of her coffee, trying to formulate a casual reply.
“Yeah,” she said mildly. “Traffic was good.”
“Great. Do you know Valentine? I’ve invited him to sing at the opening as well. I think your styles really vibe together.”
Olympia swallowed. “Uh--”
“We know each other… quite well, actually.” Valentine interjected before she could say anything.
Olympia felt her face going hot. No. Not now, she thought. She felt as if she might burst into tears, and wanted to run away, take her suitcase and get on the next leaving flight, no matter where it was going, but she stood her ground. She wasn’t going to give Valentine the satisfaction. Instead, she simply smiled, her eyes boring into Valentine like nails.
“Oh, wonderful. So, you guys will be able to work together then. Amazing! Perfect!” Everett may as well have been talking to himself, for all the notice that Olympia or Valentine paid him. Finally, Olympia sat down, on the other side of Everett, and began searching her bag for the novel she’d packed.
She settled into the book, not really seeing or properly reading any of the words, just trying everything she could not to look in Valentine’s direction. It couldn’t work forever, she knew — eventually they would have to get on the plane.
But Everett seemed intent on making conversation with her. And she didn’t want to lose the gig, so she politely folded her hands on her lap, holding her thumb to mark her place in the book.
“It’s going to be great,” he was saying, looking back and forth wildly between the two of them. “I was just on the phone with the guy who’s going to be doing the lighting for the main act. You’re going to be blown away. I’ve got it set up so we’re going to emulate that sort of dim, smoky feeling of like an old-Hollywood lounge. It’s going to be classy let me tell you…”
Olympia stopped hearing the words, getting lost instead in watching the features move, animatedly, as Everett told his story. There was something endearing — she might have said cute — about Everett when he was clearly so excited. Though he was talking about what was almost certainly a multi-million-dollar endeavor, his mannerisms still made him seem like a child talking about the rules to a game he’d just made up.
She could feel Valentine’s gaze burning into her, but still, she refused to look. Oh, she would look. She would stare him down like a tiger captivated by its prey, in good time, but for now she still wanted to cling to the last shreds of a dream she’d had the previous night, a dream where it was just her and Everett, on a plane, and she had a ticket to her dream career — a big record deal, a big opening show, plenty of adoring fans, and interviewers who would listen, rapt, as she told the story of how she’d escaped from the clutches of the evil Valentine Romero.
Maybe that last part was not to be, but she could still hope for that record deal. She took another sip of coffee that had become bitter as it sat. Or maybe that was just her.
The minutes ticked by until eventually an attendant announced that the plane was ready to board. Olympia pulled out her passport and got in line ahead of the two men, staring stoically forward.
They were seated together, of course, but Everett had booked first class. Normally, that would have been a great thing, and Olympia would have relished the experience. Unfortunately, first-class seats were grouped in twos rather than threes.
She was stuck next to Valentine for the next three hours.
Once they were settled, he turned to her and grinned, whispering, “I missed you baby.”
Olympia scoffed. “Maybe you shouldn’t have driven me away in the first place,” she hissed back.
Valentine put on a face, a mockery of hurt. “I didn’t drive you away, Olympia. I was only doing what was best for you, and you threw it back in my face.”
“Uh huh. The drugs? The gambling? All that was for my benefit? Oh, how rude of me not to notice.”
They were forced to pause their exchange as the captain’s voice came over the loudspeaker, announcing the weather, the flight time, and the location of the emergency exits. When the plane began to roll down the runway for takeoff, Olympia stared pointedly out the window.
“You can’t just hide from me, you know.” He said, louder, knowing the rumbling of the plane’s chassis would prevent Everett from overhearing.
Olympia did know. All too well. But she wasn’t about to let Valentine win this fight. “I can try,” she said viciously, not turning her head.
Valentine settled back into his seat. “I love it when you put on a show.”
Chapter 2
Olympia awoke from a brief nap to find Valentine’s hand on her leg.
She jerked back, stopping just short of punching him in the neck with her full strength.
“Get your hand off me,” she growled through gritted teeth.
Valentine looked at his hand, then up at her face, and gave her a smirk. “Oh, I’m sorry honey. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”
“There’s plenty you don’t realize,” said Olympia, watching him carefully as he extracted his hand, not feeling any more relaxed.
She glanced out the window. Miles below, a brown, desert landscape passed by. It was so uniform that for a moment Olympia could barely tell that they were actually moving. Still, that landscape was clearly the state of Nevada. They must be close. Her nig
htmare was either soon to be over, or just beginning.
When she turned back, Valentine had shifted in his seat to face toward her. “Baby,” he said.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you say. Olympia.” He put his hands up as if to surrender. “What do I have to do to get you back?”
She laughed. “Get me back? There’s nothing you can do to get me back. Do you understand me? Nothing. You are dead to me.”
“Well, you don’t have to be such a bitch about it. See, this is why things could never work out between us. You need to work on your anger issues, honey.”
Olympia breathed deeply through her nostrils, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of smacking that grin right off his face.
“You need to work on your money issues. And your drug problem, and maybe drinking less while you’re at it. In fact, maybe you could just work on being less of an idiot all around. I have no idea why we ever started dating in the first place.”
This was a lie, for her own sake as much as for Valentine’s. She remembered the reasons she had started dating Valentine, and most of them were because he’d seemed like an entirely different person, in the early days.
She remembered, with horrible vividness, the night he’d approached her after one of his shows. They’d been booked together — her opening, him headlining, the same lounge that Olympia now commanded — and she’d stuck around after her set to watch him. She’d been captivated by his voice, by the way his eyes would occasionally meet hers as they scanned the crowd, by the way he moved across the stage, his slim form bobbing gracefully to the beat of the song.
When he’d approached her table and pulled up a chair, smiling, she hadn’t stood a chance.
They’d talked until they were the last ones left in the lounge, until the manager turned the lights on and ushered them out. They’d gone back to Olympia’s place — in retrospect, that should have been her first warning sign, but she was blinded.
Olympia sighed and closed her eyes. She had no desire to relive that night, and as beautiful as it had been, it had been twisted into a horrible memory by everything that followed.
Think about the show, think about the show… a Vegas stage! You’ll be a star! And for a moment, it worked. She was almost lost in thought when Valentine’s voice cut through her fantasies again.
“You can’t ignore me forever, you know.” When Olympia didn’t respond, he continued. “Sooner or later, you’re going to miss me. You’re going to get tired of being alone, and you’re going to come back. And you know what I’ll do when it finally happens?”
Olympia turned, now, to fix him with a gaze that she hoped was as vicious as his words. He smiled.
“I’m going to welcome you. With open arms. We’ll move somewhere nice, where nobody knows us, and you can find your big break. You’ll be a celebrity, and it’ll all be because I was behind you, pushing you, making sure you knew exactly what you were worth.”
With the last word, his voice dropped to a low growl that told Olympia he didn’t think she was worth all that much. She shivered and glanced at the seat ahead of them. Everett was on the phone with someone, so no sense calling in a disturbance. She didn’t exactly want to tell him about her and Valentine’s history, anyway. No sense dragging an innocent man into this mess. She steeled herself and looked back at Valentine.
“Well,” she said. “Keep waiting. It’ll be a cold day in hell when I come back and ask you for anything.”
*****
When they finally disembarked, Olympia made sure to put a wide berth between herself and Valentine, latching onto Everett and asking him a series of questions about everything she could think of —- the venue, the other performances, how many songs she’d be asked to sing, which songs. She was lucky that she’d played other gigs like this before, and knew what questions were usually worth asking.
The cab from the airport, thankfully, was a van with three seats in the middle, so Olympia squashed in to one side with Everett against one shoulder. She looked out the window.
It was high noon in Las Vegas, and the sun was already baking the sidewalks, reflecting off of glass skyscrapers so that every street corner felt like an oven. Olympia hoped she’d get to spend some time by a pool during her week here — the walk from cab to hotel lobby left her dewy with sweat.
She was helping the bellboy heft her luggage onto an elevator cart when she noticed Valentine saying something to Everett in a hushed tone, glancing at her tellingly.
Her heart dropped. What’s he telling him?
She walked over as casually as she could and said, with a charming smile, “what are you boys talking about?”
“Valentine here was telling me that since you two are a couple, you don’t mind sharing a room.” He smiled. “It’s up to you, of course, but if you want to take just one room, then hey, that saves me some money.”
Olympia felt suddenly weak, as if the whole room around her was spinning. She tried to focus on any detail of the beautiful, expansive lobby, but it only made her feel sad that she wouldn’t get to appreciate it.
She looked at Valentine, who was smiling. He grabbed her hand and brought it up to kiss her closed knuckles. “Don’t you want to share a room with me, sweetheart?” His tone was one of feigned innocence, for Everett’s benefit, but in his eyes, Olympia saw that her refusal would make the next two weeks hell for her.
“Uh… of course.” She mumbled.
To his credit, Everett seemed to pause fractionally before breaking into a grin. “Great! I’ll let the desk know, and you can get your keys. I’ll be downstairs for a bit — I’m meeting somebody here. Call if you need anything.”
As they got into the elevator, Olympia felt as though she was being led to her own execution. They were on the top floor of the hotel, and the view, even from the window at the end of the hallway, was magnificent. She stopped to stare down at the strip, wishing she was any of the hundreds of ant-like figures that she could see walking around down there, probably shopping, or out for lunch, or even on their way to work.
After a few moments, Valentine beckoned her with a whistle.
The room was massive — so at least Olympia wouldn’t have to be cramped into a space the size of her apartment with Valentine. After glancing furtively at the king-sized bed that occupied the center of the space, Olympia took a beeline to the sofa to check if it folded out into a serviceable bed.
Thankfully, it did.
She weighed the benefits of claiming the bed and forcing Valentine to sleep on the sofa, ultimately deciding to take the sofa for herself — there seemed to be less of a chance that he’d try to squeeze in there with her at some point during the night.
“You sure you don’t want to share?” He asked, patting the section of duvet beside him as he sat on the corner of the bed and kicked off his shoes.
“Oh, I’m sure,” said Olympia.
She wanted to leave, but she also didn’t want Everett to get suspicious or wonder where she’d gone, so she settled for pulling out her notebook and beginning to make some notes toward a new song. At least the rage that filled her when she thought about Valentine’s smug face would make for some really biting new lyrics.
Her pen had barely scraped against the paper when her phone began to ring. Glad for the distraction, she pulled it out of her pocket and saw Everett’s name displayed on the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Hi Olympia. My meeting had to reschedule, but I was thinking, why don’t you two come to my apartment for a late lunch? That way I can show you some of the blueprints and plans I have for the stage show. What do you say? I’ll get my chef to arrange something nice.”