by Toby Neal
Just like earlier in the evening, I freeze as the camera finds my face, lighting me up, stopping me in my tracks like a criminal caught in a jailbreak. The team zeroes in on me.
“Hi, Jade. Thanks so much for speaking with us. I’m Rosa Pinkins from WRBX LA. What’s it like to come in second place on the hottest show in Hollywood?”
I muster a smile. “Oh, I can’t believe I made it that far, truthfully. It was a dream come true to compete on the show.”
“But you must have been disappointed when the results came in.” Rosa Pinkins has a feral gleam in her eye. She’s a cougar about to land on my back and break it with one snap of her veneered teeth. “I’m sure you wanted to come in first.”
“Sure, that would have been nice—but Alex and I both have bright futures ahead in dance. I’m accepting a contract with Mummings Video Productions, and Alex is signing with the Forbes Talent Agency. You’ll be seeing a lot of us in upcoming music videos, commercials, and anywhere a good dancer is needed.” I smile as big as I can. “I’m just so glad to have had a chance like this.”
“Well, you and Alex certainly lit up the stage during that last performance! The chemistry was sizzling,” Perkins says. “But we hear a rumor he bats for the other team, if you know what I mean. Any romance going on for you two?”
“Not with each other, no.” I’m not going there. “Thanks for caring to interview me.” I get ready to bolt.
“Well, we heard you have a little something going on with one of the producers of the show: Brandon Forbes.” I start walking. Rosa is still following. How did she hear about that? Brandon and I kept things so secret—only Alex knows, or so I’d hoped.
“I can’t comment on that,” I say, and break into a run.
I don’t care how it looks. I can’t take another minute of this. Fortunately, the direction I’m headed is toward the front of the hotel, and I duck into the lobby, trying to bring down my breathing—but just inside are more reporters, filling the lobby’s lounge area. My rapid entrance attracts them, and they surge up out of the seating arrangements like a pack of wolves, snapping questions at me.
I flee to the stairwell again. Two flights up, I sink onto the tread of one of the steps and put my face in my hands.
What a nightmare.
And now I’ve gone on TV and said I’m signing with Jashon Mummings, which is all I could think of saying, because I can’t deal with seeing Brandon again.
I glance at the cheap plastic Swatch on my wrist: a bright round dial marked with Minnie Mouse. Ruby and Peter bought it for me today at Disneyland, back when life seemed filled with happiness and possibilities. Was that really just today?
It’s time for my meeting with Mummings in the hotel bar. I meant to talk to Brandon, see if he was still willing to sign me, and then blow off Mummings. But when I opened the door…My brain mercifully short-circuits the memory of Brandon and Pearl together.
I wonder what Magnus will do to Brandon when he finds out about them, and suppress a quiver of worry. Magnus has never been anything but sweet to me, but I can feel an otherness about him that speaks to having been places and done things that it’s better not to know about.
Pearl and Magnus, and their relationship, are not my problem.
Brandon is.
Was.
Isn’t any more.
I have to move forward into a life without Brandon in it.
The thought makes me double up with pain. Even if I somehow misunderstood the situation with Pearl, Brandon wasn’t able to answer that question I had for him in the elevator… and I can’t hitch my wagon to that uncertain of a star.
At least I’m not a virgin anymore. I can have sex, even with my OCD, if I like the guy enough. Maybe it’s worth all of this to know that.
I want to vomit from the pain, but I have to keep it together. I refocus with difficulty.
That gangster-looking Mummings dude is now my best chance for success, and I need to be looking out for myself. I’m the only one who can.
I stand up, every muscle heavy as lead, and squirt some hand sanitizer onto my palms. Thirteen gestures later, I head back down to the lobby.
Jashon Mummings is waiting for me.
Chapter 22
Jade
Jashon Mummings has a woman with him. I want to be reassured by that, but she’s just as scary as he is: tight buzz cut hair, huge hoop earrings and a leather bustier are all I can see above the banquette. She reminds me of Grace Jones: shiny brown skin, dark lipstick, and hard eyes.
Mummings stands to greet me, though, bald head shiny in the low light, his double-breasted suit with the red silk kerchief in the pocket sending a message of money—but the giant diamond on his finger speaks of ill-gotten gains.
“Jade. You were amazing last night.” He has a voice like coffee grounds—dark and bitter.
“Thanks. I didn’t win, though.”
“Doesn’t matter. You have huge talent, and now the world knows that. Please, sit down. This is Madalyn, my associate.” He gestures to the woman, who doesn’t smile but does incline her head. Associate? What does that mean?
“Pleased to meet you both.” I fold my hands tight in my lap to keep from having to use my sanitizer. “I can only stay a few minutes. I’m super tired from the show.”
“Yes, I imagine.” Mummings takes a fat envelope out of his breast pocket and sets it on the table. The waitress arrives, and he and Madalyn order drinks. I order a ginger ale, not willing to chance getting carded.
“You an alcoholic?” Madalyn purrs.
“No. Just underage.”
Mummings pats the envelope. “Take a look.”
I open the envelope. The pages of the contract document are thick with legalese and I can feel my eyes, already gritty and sore, crossing as I try to read the unfamiliar language. “I’m going to need to take this back to my room and study it. Have a lawyer look at it.” Ruby can review it and make sure it’s okay.
“No need for all that.” Mummings takes out another envelope. “Since you didn’t win, here’s a little pre-payment walking around money. To help you get set up in your own place here in LA.”
I peek into the envelope. It’s thick with hundred dollar bills. Just holding it makes me nervous. I push it back to him. “Why don’t you just—tell me more about what your business, what you have in mind.”
“Music videos.” He has a gold filling that winks when he smiles. “It’s all the thing, and you’ve got moves.”
I’m excited by this. After all, I learned to dance hip-hop by watching MTV videos. “Do you have a team of dancers? Or do you hire individual freelancers?”
“We’re building our on-staff team at our own studio. I’m moving from skin movies to legit music videos. I might as well tell you that, since you’re going to hear it somewhere. Got my start in pornos, but we’re not staying there.”
I feel my cheeks heat. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be interested in that kind of video work.”
“Well, not gonna lie—you’re gonna have to show some skin and shake that booty—but it’s for TV, so you’ll always have something on.”
“Let me take this contract and review it. I need to sleep on it.” I scoop up the first envelope.
He pushes the fat money-filled one toward me. “This is a gift. Just a sample of the kind of money you can make working for me. It’s yours, no matter what you decide.”
I pause. I’m literally penniless now that I didn’t win. I was hoping for the fifty-thousand-dollar prize money to get set up with a place here in LA. If I don’t take this money, I have to beg Rafe and Ruby for a ride on the Learjet back to Eureka.
Back to my teeny, tiny circuit from home, to some lame job, to studio, and around again.
I can’t fit into that life anymore.
“All right.” I take the envelope. “Thanks.”
Mummings hands me his card. It’s black, with gold lettering spelling out MUMMINGS VIDEO PRODUCTION and a telephone number. “I want that contract signed and behind
us because I have a job for you right away. We’re doing a Janet Jackson video.”
I sit back down in the booth. “Janet Jackson! Really?” I love her music. It would be such a thrill to be in one of her videos.
“Yeah, but we start filming tomorrow. I was hoping to get you into a solo cameo, but with this lawyer business...” He makes a dismissive clicking sound with his mouth.
I just want to get on with my new life and have something to tell my family when they ask me about returning to Eureka with Mom. I want to have something to say to Brandon when I eventually have to face him—as I know I will. He’s going to try to explain away the thing with Pearl, and while I don’t want to hear it, I do want to have something I can say to fend him off—to not have to deal with him anymore.
I just can’t handle my emotions around Brandon. Mummings, and his offer, will ensure that I don’t have to be around him for work, or anything else.
“All right.” I hold out a hand. “Where’s your pen?”
Brandon
I’ve been looking everywhere for Jade. I’ve even called hotel security to have them find her—and I’m headed for the bar for one last look, and a stiff drink, when Jade walks out of the bar.
Jashon Mummings and his pit viper are right behind her.
Jade freezes when she sees me. Mummings puts a meaty hand on her shoulder and nods in greeting. “Forbes.”
“Mummings. Here to steal my best talent?” My heart’s pounding—I want to pop that slimy porn king right in his gold-toothed grin. Instead, I bare my teeth in an attempt at humor.
“I make my own decisions. And I’ve signed with Mr. Mummings.” Jade stares at me defiantly. “We’re starting work on a Janet Jackson video tomorrow.”
That elevator drop happens to my stomach again. “Jade. We have to talk. Privately.”
“I don’t think we do.” Bright red spots burn in her cheeks as she turns to face her new boss. “Thanks again, Mr. Mummings. I’ll meet you in the lobby first thing tomorrow morning when I check out.”
“See that you do.” Mummings points a huge finger at her, cocked like a gun, and winks. The effect is not cheery. He and his woman head for the front door, and Jade brushes past me.
“Jade!” She’s slipping away from me again. The ridiculousness of the situation makes me grab her arm in frustration. “Stop. You have to listen. Pearl came up to warn me that you were talking to that sleazeball, nothing more.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute.” Jade won’t look at me. She’s fumbling in her pocket for the hand sanitizer. “And that sleazeball is my boss now.” She wrenches her arm out of my hand. I frown as she slips onto the nearest elevator just as the door closes.
Well, hell.
I don’t actually have time to try to reason with that immature, neurotic, stubborn woman right now, because my mother has cancer surgery and I’m going back to New York tomorrow morning to be there for her—something I should have told Jade yesterday, but we were too busy making love to get around to the “my mother has cancer” conversation.
Like with the Mummings contract, I thought we’d have plenty of time to discuss it.
Maybe Jade needs a lesson in how the real world works. Jashon Mummings is just the guy to give it to her. The thought makes my hands ball into fists.
But if she won’t trust me the tiniest bit, if she’s so paranoid about her own sister that she won’t listen to reason—maybe it already was late.
And maybe I don’t want to be with someone who has that little trust in me—someone who’d jump to conclusions so easily after a night like we had, refusing to even talk about it. Then, stab me in the back by going over to the competition.
Why did I let myself get involved with another Michaels girl, exactly? My stomach is roiling as I walk into the bar, sit on a stool, and order several shots. I’m on the third one, still trying to wrap my head around the shambles, when Stu joins me.
“Celebrating without me?” One look at my face and he revises that. “Having a wake without me?” He grabs one of my whiskey shots and throws it back. Shudders. “Ugh. Strictly medicinal. What’s going on?”
I tell him what I can bring myself to speak about. “Melissa is having cancer surgery day after tomorrow. I have to go back to New York.”
“Aw, hell. Your mother always seemed like she was Teflon-coated. My world just tipped a few degrees off-center with that news.” Stu pats the counter for a refill. We pound a few more down together.
“One of my best dancers just signed with Jashon Mummings,” I mutter into the bowl of peanuts Stu has dragged over to keep us from getting shit-faced too quickly. “The asswipe got to her before I could.”
“Jade Michaels?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, hell. He’s going to eat a sweet kid like her alive.” Stu shakes his head. “Damn shame.”
“Jade’s not a kid.”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Stu eyes me shrewdly. “I thought it might be. Shafted by another Michaels girl, you poor bastard.”
I punch him in the shoulder—hard. “Screw you.” That crack really hurt. I throw a fifty down on the counter and stand up. “Tomorrow’s another day, and I gotta pack.”
“Hey, I’ll keep an eye on her for you. I do camera work for Mummings sometimes. He’s moving out of porno into music videos; that rumor is true, so he probably has real work for her at least. Want me to keep an eye on her?”
“Yeah, man.” All that booze I drank too fast swishes unsteadily in my belly. “Would you? She’s not a kid, but she is...innocent.”
“Innocent, huh?” Stu pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll offer my videography services at a cut rate to Mummings. And I’ll expect you to make up the difference in pay when he takes me up on it.”
“It’s a deal.” I feel a little better. Jade may be diving into the deep end of the pool holding an anchor, but at least Stu can report to me on how fast she hits the bottom. “Keep me posted.”
“And good luck with your mom.”
“We both need that.” I wave as I walk through the lobby, trying not to weave. Finally reaching the room, I throw my clothes into my suitcase.
What an ignominious end to the best show we’ve run in three years.
Everything reminds me of being with Jade—the table and chairs where we shared dinner that first evening. The shower. The bed.
I can’t even look at it, let alone lie on it.
I set up an early morning wake-up call for my flight to New York—then drink most of the hotel room’s wet bar and pass out on the couch.
Chapter 23
Jake
Alex is packing when I finally reach the sanctuary of our room.
“Where’ve you been, girl?” Alex smiles archly. “But never mind. I know where. You been doin’ the nasty with Mr. Producer.”
“Man, are you behind the times.” I drag my sorry butt into the bedroom. Trailing after me, folding one of his pairs of shiny hip-hop pants, Alex frowns.
“Come to think of it, you aren’t looking so hot. What’s happening?”
“Mr. Producer. That’s over. A mistake.” I pull my backpack, all I came with and now all I’m leaving with, out of the closet. “I signed with Mummings. We start work tomorrow on a Janet Jackson video.”
“Wait. What?” Alex cocks a hip, scowling. “How’d you go from hearts and flowers, on top of the world, to signing with Mummings and I don’t want to talk about it?”
“Please.” I flop on the end of the bed. “Please, Alex. I can’t talk about it right now.” The tears I’ve been holding in since that wretched moment I opened Brandon’s door finally overflow. “Don’t ask me about it.” I dash them off my cheeks. “I wonder if you want to keep being my roommate, though.” I pull the cash envelope out of my pocket. “Do you have plans here in LA? Or are you going back to the Bay Area?”
Alex sits beside me. Takes the envelope. Pulls the money out. Whistles as he counts. “That’s twenty C-notes right there. Two thousand dollars. What’d
he want you to do for that?”
“Nothing. It was a gift.”
Alex snorts. “Gift, my left nut. Guy’s a porn king gangster.”
I snatch the envelope back. “He had beautiful manners and a woman with him when we met. And now I have money to get a place. So do you want to go in on it with me? Because I’ll ask around for another roommate if not.”
“Course I want to. I need a crib down here too.”
“That’s a relief.” I flop back on the bed. “At least one thing is going right.”
Alex loans me a sleeping pill, and I escape into oblivion.
It seems like moments later when the phone on the bedside table rings and jangles me awake the next morning. I’m afraid to answer it in case it’s reporters or Brandon. “Can you get that?” I yell at Alex through the open door.
“Chicken.” Alex rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone. “Hello?” He listens for a moment. “Yeah, Jade is here.” He covers the receiver. “It’s your sister Ruby.”
I pick up the bedside extension. “Ruby.” Just saying her name makes my eyes prickle up as I think of all I’m not telling her, and she’s not going to like that I signed a contract without consulting her. “What’s going on with the family today?”
“Oh, we’re getting ready to go back up North. Pearl and Magnus already checked out. Pearl wasn’t feeling well.”
Pearl left without even trying to talk to me. What, just so I could yell at her and show her the door? Probably. Still, it hurts.
I’m so full of crap. I hate myself.
“I thought Pearl would tell you her news herself, but she said you guys had a misunderstanding.” Ruby says.
“Yeah, we did.” All I’m not telling Ruby hangs on the tip of my tongue but I bite down on it. “What’s this big news?”
“She’s pregnant. That’s why she hasn’t been joining us for meals—she’s had to lie down a lot. She wanted to wait until three months to tell people, but decided you should know.” Ruby’s voice sounds puzzled. “I wish you guys would just get over whatever this problem is between you.”
