Dirty Laundry

by Lauren Landish

“My daughters sure know how to pick ‘em,” Mom says proudly as Grandma giggles, of all things. “Handsome and a bit of roguish charm too.”

  “So Jake, what do you do?” Brianna asks. Like Mindy, she’s added some weight, but it looks good on her also. I’ve only met her a few times, but she and my sister are practically inseparable these days.

  “I’m the Regional President at Franklin Consolidated,” Jake says. “The corporation I work for absorbed it.”

  “He’s Roxy’s boss,” Hannah adds.

  “Hannah!” I protest, but Hannah gives me a look that says suck it up, buttercup. She’s right.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it, honey,” Grandma says. “Getting down with the boss has been going on since . . . well, long before my time. And I went to school with Abe Lincoln.”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “Please forgive her,” I plead to Jake. “She probably hasn’t taken her meds yet.”

  “I heard that,” Grandma growls.

  We all pretend we don’t notice Grandma as each of the women takes turns asking Jake questions. They ask him what his favorite color is, his favorite food, even what movies he likes to watch. I start to feel warm sitting next to him, and I’m not even the one in the hot seat.

  To Jake’s credit, he’s the consummate gentleman, answering each question with patience and a pleasant smile on his face.

  Mindy is in midst of a particularly tricky question when Hannah interrupts. “Uh, excuse me. I don’t mean to be rude, but Jake, would you like to give these ladies’ husbands a tour of the Club? Gavin, Oliver, and John are waiting at the Pancake House just down the street from Jasmine,” says Hannah innocently. “They said they were hungry.”

  I look at her suspiciously, remembering how she ran out. “You were in on this!”

  Hannah manages to look guilty but doesn't say anything.

  Jake chuckles. “I’ll be fine. I’ll meet up with them and let you guys play catch-up.”

  I cross my arms and scowl. I know what this is. They're gonna interrogate Jake.

  “Don’t let them intimidate you,” I tell him in his ear. “Gavin’s huge, but he’s actually a nice guy.”

  “Are you kidding?” he says with a smirk. “I was born in the jungle. I can handle myself. It was nice meeting you ladies. I’m sure I’ll see you again?”

  “You sure will,” Mindy says. “We’ve got nowhere to go, and if we do, I’m going to be back.”

  When he’s gone, I place my hands on my hips and scowl at everyone.

  “Now, which one of you is going to tell me just what the hell you were thinking, surprising me like this?”

  Roxy

  I pace back and forth, nervous energy filling my legs as I try to clear my head. I came to Club Jasmine early just for this purpose, to try and get my head right.

  It’s not working. “Come on, this is just another performance, just another performance,” I mutter to myself for what has to be the thousandth time.

  “Roxy.”

  I don’t pay the voice any attention as I keep trying to go over stuff in my head. “Quick little talk with the crowd, then Shake It Off . . . no, shit, we decided to change the lineup to show my range . . .”

  “ROXY!”

  I stop as two hands grab my shoulders and I look up to see Mindy shaking me, staring into my eyes. “What?”

  “You’re freaking out,” Mindy says, giving me a smile. “Come on, you’ve been going over this for an hour now. You know your set backward and forward. Even that old school track you’re putting in for Mom.”

  “Hey, I’m not old school!” Mom complains. “I mean, Madonna’s still touring!”

  “Yeah, and looking more worn out than I do!” Grandma adds. “Roxy, your sister is right. Sit down. If you keep this up, you’re going to wear out your legs!”

  I take a deep breath and sit down, Brianna moving over quietly to help with my hair. While she does that, Mindy sits down in front of me and starts doing my makeup. “Okay, now listen,” Mindy says quietly. “I can see what’s going through your head. You’ve been trying to give yourself a pep talk, saying if this goes badly, it’s no big deal. But you see, you don’t need that talk. It isn’t going to go badly. Look to your right. Let me get your cheek.”

  I turn, seeing Grandma. She’s gotten herself dressed up in an outfit I can only call geriatric hoochie mama. Mom looks a bit more conservative, but Mindy herself looks like she’s about ready to tear up the stage as one of my backup dancers . . . if I had backup dancers.

  “All of us here know you’re going to knock them dead. All the men know it, which is why the only one sweating is Nathan, and that man seems to sweat everything.”

  I chuckle. She’s right. “He’s made his money being a worrywart.”

  Mom gets up and comes over to me, kissing me on the forehead. “I’ve always been proud to have two wonderful, beautiful daughters. And I’ve never been prouder of you than tonight, Roxy. You look amazing, but most all, you’re showing the world your heart. Do that, and they’ll love you just as much as I do.”

  I blink, moved. “Mom . . . don’t make me cry. Mindy just got my makeup done!”

  “She’s right, Roxy,” Grandma says. She gets to her feet, coming over. “You look beautiful, and you’re going to be the hottest thing since Brenda Lee.”

  There’s a knock at the door, and Brianna stops messing with my hair long enough to open the door to my dressing room. She gives a low whistle, and I turn around to see Jake step in the room. He’s dressed to the nines, a full tuxedo with bow tie, looking like he’s ready to be the next James Bond. “Well, well, you dress up nicely.”

  “Thanks,” Jake says, giving Hannah a wink. She’s been a godsend, playing it cool at the office as I’ve gone through ten days of absolute performance boot camp. She even did the laundry the past two weekends.

  Jake comes up to me, looking me in the eyes with those soulful, love-filled eyes that make my life complete. “You look beautiful.”

  “Second-best looking girl in the room,” Mindy teases, fixing the last crystal on my face. “There. Now you look like a superheroine.”

  “I feel better,” I admit, looking up into Jake’s eyes. “So the guys are ready?”

  It was Jake’s biggest gift for this important performance, flown from Summerfield last Sunday, my old backup band from Trixie’s, The Roxxers, Jeff, Gregg, and Wes. We’ve been rehearsing together for the past week, getting back in sync just like we used to be. “They’re ready.”

  “Then it’s time to go,” I say, giving Jake a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll kick some ass out there. You get these bitches to their seats, okay?”

  I head backstage, where I see Jeff, Gregg, and Wes already in their performance gear. I smile, but Gregg, who is rail-thin with short hair, looks concerned as he gestures at Jeff, a tall blond with spikey hair. “Dude, I’m worried about the pyro.”

  “What? We’ve worked this to the bone!” Jeff complains. “Practices were great with it.”

  “Yes, but that was in an empty house with half the security staff standing by with fire extinguishers,” Gregg retorts. He’s always been the more level-headed one while Jeff wants to blast out. “With a packed house, if things go wrong, it’ll be a nightmare.”

  “Nothing’s going to go wrong,” Jeff says dismissively, getting a little heated. “Rox needs to impress the record exec tonight, don’t you, Rox? And pyro’s part of that. We had it perfect from the first rehearsal. There’s nothing to it.”

  I place my hands on my hips, biting my lower lip. I want to use the props, but now that the heat of the performance is on, it’s only adding to my anxiety. “Let’s just not use them,” I decide. “It’s too risky and we don’t need it.”

  “But . . .” Jeff starts to protest.

  “No pyro, and that’s final!” I snap, harsher than I intend to.

  Gregg grins as Jeff looks like he wants to argue, but he looks away when I scowl fiercely at him. “All right, Rox, it’s your show. No pyro.”

/>   “Thank you,” I say, feeling butterflies flitter in my stomach. “I’m sorry, guys, I didn’t mean to be bitchy. I’m just nervous, and I really didn’t need the bickering right now.” I motion to my bandmates, and we huddle, saying a quick prayer. Just like old times.

  We’re just finishing when I hear Nathan take the mic on stage. “Club Jasmine . . .”

  The DJ, who’s going to be taking over after the concert, hits my ‘introduction music’, and the crowd starts to roar. Nathan lets the sound build for a few moments, and I can see through the side curtain as he grins. “Tonight, we’ve upped the ante for you. First, let’s give a hot Club Jasmine welcome to The Roxxers!”

  There’s a roar of applause as my bandmates take the stage.

  I feel like I’m going to faint as Nathan’s voice booms.

  “And now, the woman you’ve all been waiting for. The hottest sensation to hit this part of the country in a decade. She puts the pop in pop princess, the work in twerk. Ladies and gentlemen, and special guests . . . she’s baaaaa-aaaaaaack!”

  The crowd’s roar is like a physical wave, and I can feel it filling my body with energy. You can do this, girl. Everything’s going to be fine. “ROXY!”

  Nathan walks off stage, and as he passes by, I grab his arm. “Nathan!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Nix the pyro! Tell them, no pyro!”

  I don’t have time for more. The crowd is chanting my name, but I see Nathan give me a nod, and I feel a bit of relief. The moment I step out on stage, I’m swept away. I grin, all of my nervousness falling away as I wave to the crowd. “Club Jasmine, let’s get Roxed!”

  The crowd roars again as Wes starts the synth notes for Toxic, and I stalk toward the front of the stage, my ass swaying side to side as I start.

  Everything goes perfectly. I have them in the palm of my hand by the chorus, and I work it, spinning and twirling while singing my heart out. I’ve been training hard for this, and all those morning runs and dance practices after work have paid off. I’m not winded at all when the final notes hit, and the crowd eats it up.

  “Thank you!” I cheer, not even pausing as Gregg switches over to the percussion introduction to Rockabye. This is a new one for me at Club Jasmine, and the crowd loves it, especially as Jeff does his reggae-style verses while jamming on the bass guitar. I planned this song for the fact that it is a duet. It gives me a chance to catch my breath before going high-energy for the next few songs.

  It’s the performance of my life.

  I walk to the center of the stage, blinded by the spotlight, sweat trickling down my forehead and sides. Despite being sweaty as hell, I feel more alive than I’ve felt in a long time, energized by my performance. “Club Jasmine, are you having fun tonight?” A resounding yeah roars back at me. “I can’t hear you!” I yell, cupping my ear. “Can I get a hell yeah?”

  “Hell yeah!”

  I laugh. “All right, this next song is for some very special guests tonight,” I tell the audience as I look out into the crowd. Through the glare, I can make out the women I love, all of them looking at me with pride in their eyes and smiles on their faces. “I won’t embarrass them by saying their names, but they know who they are.”

  I turn my back to the crowd and raise my mic hand in the hair. “Hit it!”

  The song starts, and I start jamming, dropping it low to the floor and bringing it back up again, pumping myself up for this high-energy song. Just as I’m about to sing the opening bar, I’m surrounded by a shower of sparks that blots out the entire stage, and a loud popping noise assaults my ears.

  Followed by the blaring of a fire alarm.

  “Everybody OUT!” the DJ screams, and suddenly, I realize someone used the pyro anyway and started a fire! I’m frozen in shock as I watch the audience descend into chaos.

  Flames are racing up the curtains and there’s a rush of screaming people trying to get out the doors. I let out a cry when something falls near me, flames whooshing from it. Almost numbly, I see Gregg, Jeff, and Wes abandon their instruments to head for the fire exit on the side of the stage.

  After a moment, I shake off my shock and start to head that way. But before I can cross the stage, one of the speakers falls, sparks and flame erupting in front of me as it hits the stage. Crying out, I hurl myself out of the way just in time.

  I roll off the stage to land in the middle of what feels like a stampede, people kicking me, and I can feel someone stumble, stepping on my back as they rush for the exit. I scream, worried that the next step is going to be someone breaking my leg or worse, when suddenly, strong arms are around my body, lifting me up. It’s Jake, and he pulls me toward the exit as the flames continue to grow.

  We get outside, Jake setting me down as thick, black smoke rolls out the doors of Club Jasmine. I look around, trying to find my family, and at first I’m panicked. I see Mom and Mindy at first, then everyone else. Except Grandma. “Where’s Grandma?” I look around frantically, my heart pounding within my chest like a jackhammer, growing dread twisting my stomach.

  “I’m here!” a familiar wavy but powerful voice crows. “It’d take more than this to knock me out! Now set me down, you big gorilla!”

  I see Oliver, Mindy’s husband, with Grandma in his arms. “Sorry, I took the other exit. Everyone was headed to the same one.”

  “What the fuck was that?” calls a fresh voice, hacking. “Honestly, what the fuck were you thinking?”

  I turn to see an older man, his eyes ablaze in fury. “Who—”

  “I’m the person you were trying to impress,” the man hisses, coughing. “I came to watch you sing, and you try to put on a pyro show like you’re a goddamn pro wrestler? Fucking amateur hour!”

  I can see Jake wants to say something, but Nathan comes up, grabbing him, and he’s running back into the building, Gavin and Oliver on his heels. I want to rush after them. They’re trying to save the building, I guess, but I’m frozen as the man rants. “I swear, between the bad stripper dancing and the horrible caterwauling . . . I didn’t think it could get any worse!”

  “You know what, you bastard? Take your bullshit and shove it!” Mindy yells, getting in his face. “It was obviously a fucking accident!”

  The man gives her a look and turns on his heels, stomping away. He disappears into the crowd just as the sound of fire engines approaches, and Mindy holds me as I feel like I just destroyed my life. Everything was going great. Until that.

  “Oh, my God, Min, I can’t believe this,” I sob into her shoulder. I’m too weak to look over to see which one of my bandmates looks guilty, though I have a pretty good idea which one it is. But it doesn’t matter. I feel like I’m responsible for this. “This is all my fault.”

  “Shh,” Mindy reassures me, stroking my hair until a new set of arms wraps around me. It’s Jake, and he drops a fire extinguisher on the pavement before he pulls me into a hug.

  “We got everyone out. The fire’s mostly under control and it looks like no one is hurt,” he says, coughing lightly. “But the roof . . . the roof . . .”

  “The club?” I whisper, and Jake shakes his head slowly. I feel my heart break. I’m sure he hates me. I burned down his dream! “Jake, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  Before I can finish, Jake’s phone rings and he pulls it out. He listens, his face going white underneath the streaks of black. “No . . . no!”

  “What is it?” I ask as Jake hangs up, and he starts to walk away. I follow him, grabbing his arm. “Jake! What is it?”

  “There’s been a . . .” he whispers, seeming to lose his voice, his eyes unfocused. “Sophie . . . she’s been in an accident.”

  Jake

  The cabin of Hannah’s car is silent as we make our way to the hospital. I’m riding in the back because, as a heaping helping of extra suck on tonight, my car was parked in the back of Club Jasmine . . . right where a back window blew out and turned my Maserati into a wreck.

  This night has been something nightmares are made of. It
started off with so much promise, with the chance for a brighter future for Roxy, for Club Jasmine. Now, the club’s a wreck and from what I hear, Roxy’s career might have gone up in flames right along with it, and to top it off, I’m terrified about how Sophie is doing because they wouldn’t tell me much on the phone.

  “Jake, I’m so sorry,” she says quietly. After getting the call, I turned over everything at the club to Nathan while Hannah drives Roxy and me to the hospital. “You must hate me.”

  The guilt in her voice tears at my fucking heart. She’s said it about a half dozen times as we ride, and each time, I haven’t responded. To be honest, I don’t know what to say. Instead, I look out the window, wishing that Hannah could drive faster.

  “Jake . . .”

  “Don’t worry about what happened right now,” I tell her quietly, reaching out and taking her hand. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  Even as I say it, my stomach twists in knots. Things aren't going to be okay. The club being burned hurts on a lot of levels. We’re going to lose a lot of money over it. Sure, we had insurance, but that will cover repairs, maybe. It won’t cover the operating losses, the fact that nobody’s coming through the door, or that I owe the staff something during the time the club’s closed. And there’s no insurance in the world that’s going to cover the damage to Club Jasmine’s reputation. There’s no guarantee that even if we do get it repaired quickly, people are going to come back.

  I just hope Nathan won’t lose his shit. He’s really taken personal pride in it, and it’s the first business venture he’s done that bears his real fingerprints and isn’t just transactions being shuffled around on a computer.

  Honestly, though, my number one concern right now is Sophie. If something bad has happened to her . . . I feel like hell. I said I was going to start spending more time with her. But outside of breakfast and our school rides, we haven’t had a lot of time. Now she’s in the hospital after an accident of some kind, and if something’s happened to her, I’ll never forgive myself.

  We reach the hospital, and before Hannah’s even got the engine shut off, I jump out of her car, storming toward the doors and practically charging through them. The safety glass slides open at what seems like a snail’s pace, and I turn sideways to slide through as narrow a gap as I can, crossing the reception area to the desk. I barely notice that Roxy’s caught up as I plant my hands on the desk so loudly that the guy on duty jumps slightly. “Where’s Sophie Stone?” I pant, knowing I look like a dirty, crazy man. “I’m here to see her.”