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

by Christina Ross

  “Won’t Alex be working tonight?”

  She sipped her coffee and looked at me over the rim. “Not tonight. He made that very clear to me. Tonight, it’s all about spending time with you.”

  * * *

  At Bergdorf, Blackwell went on a bender, and she wasn’t messing around. When we arrived, a striking woman around Blackwell’s age met us at the door with an extendend hand, which I shook.

  “I’m Pauline Barreau,” she said. “It’s good to meet you, Ms. Kent. I’ve heard much about you.”

  What has she heard?

  “Ms. Blackwell and I spoke late last night, and we had a meeting of the minds. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to a private dressing area to show you the dress we both think will be perfect for you tonight. It’s something that will set you apart from the rest.”

  Late last night? I got home around one. I agreed to go to the event with Alex around one-thirty. He must have got Blackwell on the phone and told her to make this happen.

  At that moment, I felt for her. But when I turned to look at her, it was clear that she was in her element and was getting off on this. She once told me that she loved fashion, so maybe this was fun for her. Maybe she saw it as a day off. I hoped so.

  We went to a dressing room on the third floor, and I got a sense by how private it was that only a select few were allowed back here.

  “Champagne?” Pauline asked.

  “No, thank you,” I said.

  “Ms. Blackwell?”

  “Tempting as it is, Pauline, I also must pass. Jennifer and I are mainlining caffeine this morning. Why don’t we see the dress? You know I’m dying to see it in person. You’re so cruel, Pauline, making me wait like this.”

  Pauline arched an eyebrow in amusement. “Cruel, Ms. Blackwell?”

  “Evil.”

  “Give me a moment.”

  “I’ve waited hours for this moment.”

  “Just a moment more....”

  “God!”

  She left through a mirrored door and returned with a sheer blue dress that seemed to float through the air as she carried it toward us. It looked weightless to me until she held it up, allowing it to drop, and Blackwell and I were able to see the front of the dress, which was laden with an intricate pattern of crystals.

  “Swarovski Elements,” Blackwell said, circling the garment without touching it. “The design of the crystals is divoon, Pauline. Beyond divoon. Divoon to the tenth power. Very twenties. Very now. So on trend. Miu Miu designed the dress, Jennifer. Isn’t it fantastic?” She was so caught up in the moment, she just charged forward, not allowing me to speak. I kind of loved her when she was like this. She became more human to me. “The blue is just right. Soft. Muted. Slate undertones.” She pointed a finger at Pauline. “Just as you said there’d be.” Then, she looked at me. “The color will work with your hair and with your skin. I think we’ve found it. I think this is it.” She put her hand to her chest. “Two in a row!”

  “Perhaps Ms. Kent should try it on before we get too excited.”

  “Right, right,” Blackwell said, composing herself. “Jennifer, follow Pauline and try on the dress. I’m too stressed out to think that it won’t fit. We know the obstacles—your tantrum of a derriere being the real challenge. Naturally, I’m concerned. Pauline, you have a tailor for me, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “And this can happen today if it doesn’t fit?”

  “I can make it happen within an hour.”

  “Je t’aime.”

  I went into a large changing room surrounded by mirrors, and put on the dress. I then looked at myself, and just stopped for a moment. Was this really my life? I’d been here once before, but again? Really? The dress was stunning. I could only imagine what I’d look like when Bernie was finished with me. I turned this way and that way, and I heard my father’s voice in my head.

  Don’t think you’re all that, girl.

  “I don’t,” I said to him in the mirrors. “But I’m working on it. You won’t hold me back forever. And you won’t be in my head for the rest of my life, either. I’m getting rid of you, you son of a bitch. I’m moving forward.”

  I took a breath and walked out of the changing room, knowing I was about to be judged by Blackwell in the dressing room, which intimidated me. In some ways, her criticism reminded me of my father, and so I braced myself for whatever she had to say.

  But there was no judgment. When she saw me, she held up her hands in what looked to me like a show of relief. She turned to Pauline in what looked to me like a show of gratitude, and then she told me to turn, turn, turn so she could see, see, see. When I finished, laughing, she said, “Can you believe this? We just need a nip and a tuck above her ass, and we’re good! God!”

  * * *

  Later, after leaving Bergdorf, we went to Van Cleef & Arpels on Fifth, and Blackwell, who apparently already had spoken to one of the managers, introduced me to him.

  “This is Christopher,” she said. “Christopher, Jennifer Kent. Are we good? Great, because time is running out. Did you find anything that comes close to what I had in mind?” she asked him.

  “I did. I’ve chosen a few statement pieces. Vintage pieces from the twenties.”

  “You’re too good. So smart. Let’s see.”

  In a private room at the back of the store, he showed us a bracelet that made me catch my breath. It was a line bracelet, streamlined in design, with geometric panels indicative of the Art Deco period. The diamonds and sapphires that encompassed it were set in platinum.

  “Try it on,” Blackwell said.

  I held out my wrist, and Christopher fastened the bracelet around it. Before I could admire it, Blackwell took hold of my wrist and turned it over. Her eyes flicked up to Christopher’s.

  “You’ll need to take out two links,” she said. “Otherwise, it’s fantastic. Jennifer? Thoughts?”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  She turned back to Christopher. “You have matching earrings?”

  He did. I tried them on. They were large sapphire teardrops framed with tiny, delicate diamonds also set in platinum. Blackwell held my chin in her hand, appraised them, approved of them, and bought them. In a cloud of disbelief, I watched her shower Christopher with a flourish of air kisses before I followed her out of the building and onto the sidewalk. She led me to the limousine waiting for us curbside, and we stepped inside.

  “Success,” she said.

  “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “I love fashion. Absolutely live for it. So far, today has been like a vacation for me. Thank you.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Being treated like this was humbling.

  “You’re probably hungry,” she said. “So am I, even if the very idea of eating repels me. No one should eat—ever. But I suppose we have to don’t we? Of course, we do. Otherwise, we’ll just end up looking like shit in a coffin, which absolutely will not do, unless we’re cremated. There’s a thought. No one will know then. Hmmmm. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Salad? Something light? We’ve got time.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “I suggest a salad for you. Some hardcore roughage. Give it an hour or two, and it will clear you out. You’ll thank me later.”

  “Isn’t that was the Spanx is for?”

  “Spanx can only do so much, Jennifer. Trust me. We’re talking total body cleanse here. Let’s do it. Let’s get rid of whatever’s in you.”

  I looked at her and blushed.

  * * *

  It was just after four o’clock when we arrived at a very simple and understated salad bar on Park called, “Salade.”

  “It looks cheap because it is cheap. It’s a damned hole in the wall, but it’s clean, well managed, and painstakingly attended to. It’s über fresh and, in a weird kind of way, it’s kind of fabulous. You don’t always have to spend the kind of money we just spent to get the results you want. I come here almost every day. Salad, salad, salad. Thin, thin, thin. Slim, slim, sli
m. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Eat what I tell you to eat, and you’ll send me roses me tomorrow.”

  “Is that your favorite flower?”

  “God, no.”

  “What is?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I’m just curious.”

  “You’re going to judge me for this.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Yes, you will, but it is what it is. The flower is very rare. You can hardly find it, and if you do, it’s in the low-lying tropical rainforests of Indonesia. It’s the Corpse Flower.”

  Of course, it is.

  “Don’t you dare make a face at me, Jennifer. It’s endangered--but who or what isn’t? My wardrobe is endangered at the end of every season. It just dies in my closets, and then I have the lot of it thrown out. God! The flower smells like crap, it dies within a week, and yes, it eats flies and other bugs to survive, but when it’s in bloom, it’s divoon. It’s almost a meter wide. And it’s gorgeous. I love it.”

  “Who knew?” I said.

  When we went to the salad bar, which was enormous, Blackwell was precise in what she wanted me to eat. “Take the romaine. Get the spinach. No, no—more of it. And the arugula. Don’t be so prissy, Jennifer. Jesus. Pile it on. We came here for a cleanse. Now, the endive. That’s right. And the bib lettuce. And the radicchio. Look at you. Perfect. Try the frisée. Not that. That’s iceberg. God! It’s the other one. That’s right. The one that looks like it’s been electrocuted. Get lots of that. Oh, and the watercress and the mache. Yes, that’s right, those. Finish it all with a small drop of oil and a huge dollop of fresh lemon and vinegar, and you’re on your way to an A. What are you doing? Don’t you dare touch the salt!”

  “What about tomatoes?” I said. “Mushrooms? Cucumbers and peppers? Maybe one of those hard-boiled eggs right there. I’d love to have one of those.”

  “Are you serious? Those will only add bulk. You’ve got a pound of greens there—you’re fine as you are. You should be happy I’m letting you eat, period. Just enjoy what you have and lie in wait. The effects will hit by the time we get back to Wenn. You’ll see. I don’t want to be anywhere near you when it happens, but it’ll happen. Just tell me when you need to use the restroom, I’ll point you in the general direction, and then I’ll seal myself in my office. You’ll lose a good pound.”

  “But Alex likes my ass,” I said to her with a smile.

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, Maine. You’ll never lose it there. Obviously. Let’s eat.”

  * * *

  Later that night, the shopping and salads behind us, I indeed felt a gastrointestinal rumbling and ran to the restroom. How did Blackwell know these secrets? When it was all said and done, my abs felt flatter than they had in months. Bonus!

  When I returned to her office, she swept me with a glance. “See?’ she said. “Look at you. Flat.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I just do.”

  “But how?”

  “When Alex’s mother was alive, we were great friends, which is probably why Alex views me as family. I always was around, fussing over him because I knew that Constance was distracted. Anyway, we did everything together, including every fad diet going. The one thing that always worked for us was the greens. We’d do a cleanse once a month, and drop five pounds. It just works.”

  “What was his mother like?”

  “That’s a loaded question.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Constance was Constance. She was difficult. Naturally, I loved her for it. We mixed perfectly. Many also consider me difficult—though I have no idea why—so it’s no wonder we were fast friends. To others, she was a complete snob. Even Alex thought so. He loved his mother, but he didn’t like her very much. He had issues with her. Still does, I think. But to me, she was just a perfectionist. What Alex never understood is that she was in the public eye and had a lot to live up to. Because of the position she assumed in this city, she underwent massive scrutiny. There was no room for error or failure. In the beginning, the press was relentless with her. Truly awful, especially because she was so young when her husband became so successful. She didn’t have anyone to lean on or to show her how to do things properly. As a result, she made mistakes. It was tough on her, but she learned from them. Did she become bitter because of the criticism? Probably. Who wouldn’t? Did she pass that bitterness down to Alex? I think so. They never were close. Constance always was thinking about her next party, not about what was best for Alex. Sometimes, I think he was their only child for a reason. Constance didn’t want more children. She had too much to manage as it was and as far as she was concerned, he was it.”

  “That must have been difficult for Alex. He must have sensed it.”

  “Of course he did.”

  “In my own way, I know how that feels.”

  “But you’re here, aren’t you? You made the decision to leave Maine and come to Manhattan for a reason. Your past is your past, and what I sense in you, Jennifer, is that yours was an unpleasant past. Remember this. Whatever happened to you then should remain in your past, but it also should inform your present and your future. Never forget that.”

  “I would think that having a mother like Alex’s would make someone mistrust women.”

  “Initially, I think that was true for Alex. He didn’t date much in high school or college. I don’t remember any girlfriends. But when he met Diana, everything changed. They had a wonderful marriage. I was happy for him because I could see how happy he was. And then, just like that, she was gone. He told you about her death, didn’t he?”

  “He did.”

  “He’s been single ever since. Losing her crushed him. It’s been four years, and I know for a fact, that since then, he has seen no one. It’s been all about work for him. He’s here seven days a week. Always works late. I think he’s been running from Diana’s death since it happened. And then you walked into his life. You may have begun with a business arrangement with him, but he never saw you coming. He told me what happened that night. What he did was immature and idiotic—I told him so. I chastised him. Then he told me that he was unprepared for you. He said you found Cyrus good looking. Alex is only human. He got jealous and frankly, he acted like an asshole.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “Because you keep asking questions.”

  “But you don’t need to answer them.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “I want to see him happy again. I want that spark to come back in his eyes. And it’s starting to return because of you. Earlier, when I thanked you for giving him a second chance, I meant it. Not just anyone would have given back those jewels, Jennifer. You know they were yours to keep. You know you could have sold them. Giving them back to him told me everything I needed to know about you. I’m quietly encouraging this. Whether it works out or not is between you two.”

  She looked at her watch. “You should get changed. Bernie will be here in ten minutes, and he’s never late. How do you want to wear your hair tonight?”

  “I want to wear it down.”

  “With that dress? Why?”

  “Because that’s how Alex likes it,” I said.

  * * *

  An hour later, when Bernie stepped away from me and glanced at Blackwell, I noticed that she returned her approval with a smile.

  “Can I see?” I asked.

  “There’s the mirror,” Blackwell said. “Have a look.”

  I stood in front of it and couldn’t still a rush. The dress was slimming and stunning. Even in this dim light, the crystals were alive and glinting from my breasts to the bottom of the dress in intricate patterns that evoked the twenties. Bernie had flat ironed my hair, and it moved along with the dress, the material of which was so delicate, it wafted in the air when I turned.

  “How do you feel?” Blackwell asked.

  “Like I’m looking at someone else. The earrings and the bracelet are so pretty. Just perfect. I love what you did with my
hair, Bernie, and with my makeup. The eye shadow brings out the blue in the dress, as well as the sapphires.”

  “That was the idea,” he said.

  “I only regret one thing,” Blackwell said. She came around and faced me. “I should have gone with a necklace. With so many crystals, I thought it would be too much. Overkill. But I was wrong.” She looked over at Bernie. “Wasn’t I?”

  “It’s not as bad as you think. If her hair was up and off her shoulders, I’d agree. She would have needed something at her throat because the dress is strapless. And with so much skin exposed, it would have looked as if something was missing. But with her hair down? It softens what’s lacking. This will do just fine, but, yes, it could have been better with a matching necklace.” I saw him look at her. “You know I won’t lie to you, my love.”

  “Which is one of the many reasons you’re here.” She turned to me. “So, next time a necklace. Or at least a necklace on standby. You still look fabulous, Jennifer. And now you should go. It’s nearly eight and he’ll be waiting for you.”

  I felt a pit grow and then unravel in my stomach. Just knowing I was about to see Alex again made me at once nervous and excited. From burger joints to this. All within twenty-four hours.

  With Blackwell at my side, we walked to the elevator. She pressed one of the buttons, and then she lifted her face to mine. “Remember,” she said. “Forget the past. Enjoy tonight.”

  The elevator door slid open.

  “I’ll have a martini in your honor.”

  She looked weirdly irritated with me. “If you must,” she said as I stepped into the waiting car. “But at the very least, choose the Skinny Girl vodka, Jennifer. I didn’t pack you full of roughage and ask you to go through that mini-cleanse for nothing.”

  “I don’t remember you asking me,” I said.

  “You know what I mean.”