Annihilate Me (Vol. 1) (The Annihilate Me Series)

by Christina Ross

  “Why don’t I feel that way?”

  “Seriously, Maine? Seriously? You either need to wash your mirrors, or you need to get your head checked. God! Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Outside the building, a black stretch limousine was waiting for us at the curbside, and once again, I was struck by how quickly my life was changing.

  “Bergdorf,” Ms. Blackwell said to the driver, who was holding open the rear door for us. “We need to step on it. Rápidamente!”

  I sat next to her, the driver got inside, and off we went down Fifth, only to cut over to Sixth, so we could make the loop that would bring us to our destination.

  “Read your notes,” Blackwell said.

  “I am.”

  “Don’t miss a word.”

  “I don’t intend to. This isn’t exactly rocket science. There are only three paragraphs here.”

  “We made it simple for you.”

  I shot her a look. “You could have made it complicated, and I still would have nailed it.”

  “Maine,” Ms. Blackwell said, stretching out the word in exasperation. “Maine, Maine, Maine. Stop being so sensitive. We made it simple because we don’t want you overwhelmed on your first night. And you probably will be overwhelmed for good reason. This is a new world for you. We were just trying to be helpful. God!”

  “Sorry.”

  “Read!”

  * * *

  When we arrived at Bergdorf, Ms. Blackwell was on a tear.

  “Valentino,” she said as we hurried through the store. “That man understands women. He celebrates curves. Or, at least, your curves. I’m a stick. But look at what he did with Sophia. No stick figure there, but an icon nevertheless. He understands how a woman should dress. If we’re lucky, we’ll find something, it will fit, and then we can move the hell on and find some shoes. That will be easier. Hopefully Dior because, after all, they’re goddamn Dior. Then the undergarments, which must include Spanx. They will even you out nicely, but you might not be able to breathe, which doesn’t matter to me and shouldn’t matter to you. Consider it a concession for looking great. Then we get out of here and get to the good stuff at Cartier.”

  We took the elevator; Ms. Blackwell crossed her arms and tapped her foot as we rose. The doors slid open, and I followed her as she steamrolled toward the Valentino section.

  “Somebody,” she said to no one in particular. “I need assistance. Straight away. As in now.” She snapped her fingers above her head. “Hello! We need assistance here. Stop sexting, people. And, yes, I said sexting. I know how you young people are. You can do that on your lunch break. You’re probably sexting each other and you don’t even know it. God!”

  A young woman appeared beside us. She was model material—tall, fine bones, creamy skin, pale blonde hair. If she was annoyed by Ms. Blackwell’s demands, she didn’t look it. Her mouth was set in a half-smile. “How may I help you?”

  “Valentino,” she said. “Something black. A gown. Very pretty, very chic, very Valentino. Über, über, über.” She motioned toward my butt. “And it needs to fit that.”

  I blushed.

  The woman appraised me from behind, which was ridiculous, and said, “I think I have something. It arrived this week. It’s a bit unconventional, but it’s a showstopper. It’s not on the floor, but I can take you to it.”

  “It’s like we’re going to a viewing,” Blackwell said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know, a corpse. A viewing.” Her brow furrowed. “But you don’t know. You’re too young to know. The idea of death means nothing to you now. But it will—just wait and see.”

  We followed her into a round dressing room. A pedestal was in the center of the room, surrounded by tall mirrors. One of the mirrors was a door. The woman opened it, disappeared inside for a moment, and then came out with the dress draped over her arms. “It’s exquisite,” she said. And then she let the bottom of the dress drop as she held it up, so we could see all of it. She slowly turned it to reveal all of it.

  “It’s stunning,” I said.

  Ms. Blackwell went over to study it. “Leather bodice. Sleeveless. Lace at the throat. A layered tulle skirt with silk lace accents. The back is gorgeous. Look at the treatment of the lace, Jennifer. Very intricate. Very pretty. Obviously hand done. Oh, Valentino. No corpse here. Divoon.” Her eyes flicked up to meet mine. “What size are you?”

  “Five.”

  She looked at the clerk. “Will this fit her?”

  “It might.”

  “Strip,” Blackwell said. “We’ll put it on right here.”

  I’d spent enough time in a gym not to feel awkward undressing in front of two women. I removed my suit and draped it over one of the chairs behind me as I saw that Blackwell was sizing up my body. And then, with the clerk’s help, I put on the dress.

  “Well, it’s beautiful,” Blackwell said. “But it needs to be tailored. Somehow, it fits your ass, which is a goddamn miracle, but the bodice needs to be fitted. Don’t you agree?”

  She didn’t ask me. She asked the clerk, who nodded. “I could ask our tailor to come in, and we could have this for you in a week.”

  “It needs to be done within the next hour,” Blackwell said.

  “I don’t think that’s possible, madam.”

  “How much is the dress?”

  “Twelve thousand.”

  I felt my throat constrict.

  “We’ll pay twenty thousand if the tailoring is done within the hour. Can you make that happen, or do I need to speak to your manager?”

  “Give me five minutes,” she said, and she left me alone with Blackwell.

  “Money is mute, but it always talks,” Blackwell said.

  “Twenty thousand dollars?” I said. “For a dress?”

  “Jennifer, that’s nothing. Get over it. Now, turn around. Let me see.”

  I did.

  “Turn to your left.”

  I did.

  “Now face me.”

  I faced her.

  “This is the one—and on the first shot. How the hell did that happen?”

  “I believe it was the clerk’s idea.”

  “She had a vision—I’ll give her that. Now, she needs to get me a tailor.”

  The woman did, Blackwell smiled, and the fitting began.

  * * *

  When we were finished, we found the perfect pair of Manolo Blahnik Bakhita double-buckle sandals with three-inch heels. I loved them on sight, and was relieved when Blackwell agreed. Next, I followed her to the undergarment section, which she happily raided. We paid for it all, and then we left the building for Cartier, where Blackwell wasted no time finding exactly what she wanted. Never once was I consulted.

  “That ring,” she said to the clerk. “That necklace. That bracelet. Those studs.”

  I tried them on, and dipped down to look at myself in a long rectangular chrome mirror. This can’t be happening, I thought as I pressed my fingers against the diamond necklace. This is a dream.

  “Even the ring fits,” Blackwell said. “Turn to look at me.”

  I did as I was told.

  “Those are nice, but we’ll do better next time.” She turned to the clerk. “We’ll take them all.”

  By the time we left with our packages and stepped into the waiting limousine, Blackwell had dropped more than one hundred fifty thousand dollars on jewels.

  “You’ve now got everything,” she said. “We’ll get ready in my office. How did it get to be so late so fast? We’ve got to hustle. We’ve only got two hours left before you’re supposed to meet him.”

  “Where am I meeting him.”

  “You’ll take the elevator to the forty-seventh floor at eight. He’ll be there to greet you.”

  She pulled out her cell from her Birkin, tapped out a number, and said, “Bernie, it’s Blackwell. I’m a bit stressed, but otherwise divoon, divoon, divoon. Always divoon. Look at me, I’m divoon. I’m also in a crunch. Can you help me with hair and makeup? I’ll p
ay whatever you want. No, it’s not for me. It’s for a lovely young woman named Jennifer Kent. You’ll be hearing a lot about her tomorrow—trust me. Yes, she’s very pretty. This won’t be a lot of work, but time is running out, and I need you now. Oh. I see. Well, could you cancel her appointment, love? For me? You know how well I tip. Yes, I’m sure it will inconvenience her, but Bernie, you have no idea how much I need you now. You can hear it in my voice, which is thick. I’m on the edge. Desperate. Pleading. Don’t make me despondent. Perfect. You’re a lifesaver. What was that? She has dark hair, newly dyed by the looks of it. No, we’re not dealing with a kitchen-sink dye job with this one. It was done well—I’ll give her that. Right. My office. Thirty minutes. Love, love, love.”

  She clicked off the cell and leaned against the leather seat. “Kent, you’re killing me.” She held up her hand before I could speak. “Don’t apologize. Or even argue. You were thrown into a tsunami. I get it. I’m just pulling you out of it. I think Alex will be pleased, don’t you?”

  “I can’t wait to see how it all looks together.”

  “It’ll work. You’ll see. I have an eye. Don’t worry. And thank God we got Bernie. He’s a magician. You won’t recognize yourself when he’s finished with you. He’ll make certain that all other women will pale next to you when you’re standing next to Alex. And that’s the point, isn’t it. How did Alex put it to me? Oh, yes. Keeping the wolves at bay. That’s what you’ll do. I have no doubt. Tonight, I see you working a smoky eye and a pouty lip, just like I used to wear when I was a kid at recess. Only that wasn’t done with cosmetics. It generally was done with kicks and fists. Now, read your script.”

  I did, but I longed to call Lisa. When we returned to Wenn, I’d excuse myself to use the restroom and call her from one of the stalls. At this point, she likely was worried about me. I needed to reach out to her before the melee launched into full swing.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe this,” Lisa said.

  I was in a restroom on the fifty-first floor. I went to the very last stall, and was relieved to find that, at least for the moment, the restroom was empty.

  “Believe it.”

  “It’s too much.”

  “Try being me.”

  “I want to be you!”

  I spoke quietly. “I’ve only given you the abbreviated version because the Kraken is waiting for me. I don’t know when I’ll be home tonight. Don’t wait up.”

  “I’m so waiting up. Are you sure you’ll be safe?”

  “I’ve told you where I’m going, whom I’ll be with, et cetera. If anything happens to me, which I doubt, you’ve got the deets. Look, I better go. I’ve been gone too long. She’s going to freak out on me. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Good luck!”

  I clicked off the phone, actually used the restroom, washed my hands, and quickly went back to Blackwell’s office.

  “That took awhile,” she said.

  “We’ve been gone for hours. You can call me Niagara Falls if you’d like.”

  “That’s unnecessary. Bernie will be here in seconds. I’ve secured one of the conference rooms for us. The lighting is better there, and we’ll have privacy. No windows. I’ve asked maintenance to bring up mirrors.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s my job, Maine.” Her face softened for a moment. “But you’re welcome. You’ve been nothing but professional today. I appreciate that.”

  A compliment from Blackwell? Obviously, after four long months of trying to make it in this town, I was on my way in ways that I hoped that I was prepared for. But I probably wasn’t.

  CHAP

  TER FOURTEEN

  Just before eight p.m., I stood in front of a mirror, and couldn’t believe the person I’d become. From the dress to the diamonds to the upswept hair and makeup, I looked like the sophisticated woman I always wanted to be, though rarely felt like. Especially after being beaten down by my father for years, and being rejected dozens of times over the past four months.

  But the woman I saw now? She gave me confidence. I turned in front of the mirror, and admired the dress again. Then I looked at Blackwell, who was alone with me, as Bernie had already left.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “I think you’re going to break someone’s heart.”

  I furrowed my brow at her. “Whose?”

  “Maybe your own.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Just remember that this is a job. That’s the best advice I can give you. You’re playacting. Nothing more. Don’t read into anything, because he won’t be. You’re a means to an end for him.”

  “You’re talking about Alex?”

  “Who else?”

  “But we already spoke about the job. I understand the situation. It’s purely professional.”

  “You’re still young,” she said. “And as bright as you are, probably a bit naïve, which is natural. If you get swept up in the moment, if he touches you and you feel yourself responding, remind yourself that this is a job. Do that, and you’ll be fine because I can promise you this, Jennifer. When he’s with you, Alex only will be going through the motions with you. He’s a good man, but he’s focused on his work right now. Work is all he has. Work is all he can handle. You’re nothing more than an object to him. That sounds harsh, but it’s true. On the surface, you’ll make a handsome couple, people will believe it, and you’ll earn your salary because of it. What will ruin this for you is if you become emotionally attached. He’ll sense it in an instant, and he’ll fire you for it.”

  “Why is work all he can handle now?”

  “You just need to trust me on that.”

  “You make it sound as if something happened to him.”

  “You’re reading way too much into this.”

  But I sensed I wasn’t. There was something about him that she wasn’t telling me. As cool as Blackwell was, even she couldn’t hide this secret.

  But what does it even matter? I thought. I need this job. She’s giving me advice for a reason. Fine. As attractive as he is, I’m an object to him. That’s worth over a quarter million a year, never mind the perks. I’ll meet people through him. I’ll make important contacts. This is just the beginning for me.

  “I should go,” I said to her. “It’s almost eight.”

  She went over to a table and retrieved an elegant beaded black clutch.

  “We forgot to get one of these today,” she said, handing it to me. “It’s mine. You can borrow it. Judith Leiber. Inside, Bernie left lipstick and I added mints. That’s all you should need.”

  “I suppose a flask won’t fit in here.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Or some Xanax.”

  “I did consider that....”

  “But what about perfume?”

  “Bernie gave you a touch. Perfume should only ever be an intimate experience. Think of it as a secret shared between you and your partner. Only he should smell it. No one else.”

  “But that will be Alex,” I said.

  “So, it will, but don’t worry. He won’t notice. I can promise you that.”

  CHAP

  TER FIFTEEN

  I said goodbye to Blackwell, and she reminded me to be prepared to go shopping in the morning because I had another event tomorrow night. And with that, I stepped into the elevator.

  It was a minute before eight, so, despite how hectic the day had been and that I was starving because I’d had nothing to eat, I had made it. Still, Blackwell got me through it. Whatever my initial impression of her was, I had to hand it to her. Without her, I wouldn’t be standing here now, and I certainly wouldn’t be looking like this. This was by far the best I’d ever looked, and it all came down to her eye and her friendship with Bernie, who was a genius as well as an artist.

  But I was nervous.

  After pressing the button for the forty-seventh floor, I felt the car sink right along with my gut. What would he think? Would he be pleased with what he saw? Wou
ld I pass inspection? I couldn’t afford to lose this job—especially this job. Even if I only lasted a week with him, that one paycheck would hold me over for a month. And then there were the jewels.

  I’m an object, I said to myself. That’s all I am. But I’m still charming. Still sweet. Still Jennifer. To the public, we were made for each other, even if that isn’t the case. That’s what I need to sell.

  And that’s what I intended to sell.

  When the elevator slowed and the doors started to part, my heart thrummed in my ears. Alex was standing just beyond the elevator when the doors slid open. As promised, he was in black tie. He had a grin on his face, and his hands were in his pockets. He looked dashing, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

  “Jennifer?” he asked.

  “One order to go.”

  “Very funny. You look beautiful. Step out for a moment. Let me see.”

  I moved out of the elevator and because I was damned if I wasn’t going to be myself, I twirled in front of him. “This is like an out-of-body experience for me,” I said. “I never look like this.”

  “To me, it looks like an in-body experience. This is all you. I don’t know what to say. I knew you’d be—” He stopped himself short. “I mean, there was no question....” He shook his head. “Never mind. Thank you for going to such trouble. I couldn’t have asked for more. I’m going to have the prettiest woman on my arm this evening. I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

  “You’ll be able to get business done,” I said.

  He paused for a moment, and then nodded. “Right.”

  “That’s what this is all about. We’ll keep the wolves at bay. Do you like the dress?”

  I watched his eyes soak me in. I don’t think he was aware of it, but when he spoke, it came out as a low growl. It sounded like, “Very much,” though I couldn’t be sure.