by Toby Neal
“Sure, I understand.” My tone is over hearty, because I’m disappointed even while I respect his decision to let Jade choose to contact me. “That’s fine. Tell her I want to discuss...her contract.” It’s the only thing I can think of at the moment.
“Will do. And may I say—thanks for the opportunity?” Alex’s voice waxes enthusiastic. “Chad is great. Ernesto, Selina and I are psyched to be working for your agency.”
“No. I work for you,” I tell him. “That’s how an agency operates. We hustle work for you, you go and do the work, you get paid through us, and we take a cut. It’s a win-win. But I’m worried that Jade doesn’t have as good a situation.”
“You’re right to be worried!” Alex spills the situation with Jade’s contract: indentured servant wages, and huge restrictions. “She didn’t read the contract. But she’s working with her sister to get it changed.”
“I certainly hope so. Please tell her to call me. I’m sure we can help.” I say goodbye and hang up. Waiting for her to call might not be good enough.
My fists clench. That sleazebag Mummings did just what I was afraid he’d do.
Jade
My new pager beeping wakes me in the morning. I grab it off the floor beside my blow-up mattress and recognize Ruby’s number. “Oh, good.” I crawl out of the secondhand sleeping bag, knuckle the sleep out of my eyes in the bathroom, and throw on clothing.
Alex’s door is closed, so I tiptoe through the apartment and hurry down the stairs, exiting the building. Dawn in LA is the soft gray and pink tones of a dove’s breast, and the sleazy feel of the street is gone now that a trash pickup and street sweeper had been at work—and the night dwellers have gone to their daytime lairs. A few cars are meandering down the street as I cross it to the pay phone.
It’s already hours later on the east coast, so Ruby must have had time to work on my contract.
“This is a terrible contract,” Ruby says. “I can’t believe you didn’t let me have a look at it when I was there.”
“I know it’s bad. Can you fix it?” I’m counting the cement squares of the sidewalk around the phone as I rub sanitizer into my hands, the hand piece of the phone covered with a piece of tissue where it’s pressed to my ear.
“I can. But don’t go in to the studio today. Tell Mummings your lawyer won’t let you return to work until you have a meeting. In the meantime, I’m taking the Lear out. Set up a meeting with him for this afternoon.”
“He’s not going to like it.” My hands sweat at the thought of the upcoming conversation. I squirt more sanitizer onto them.
“So? You won’t be facing him alone.”
“Ruby, thanks so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I’m just glad you finally wised up and called me. See you soon!” She hangs up briskly, presumably to go pack and then sharpen her teeth to take a bite out of Mummings.
Before I can lose my nerve, I call the studio. I sigh with relief when Mummings doesn’t answer, and I leave a message that I won’t be in until we have a meeting with my lawyer to make changes to my contract. “And if you want to fire me because of this, that’s okay,” I finish. “I have other offers for work. I’ll be in around three p.m. with my lawyer to go over the contract.”
I hang up decisively, but my heart’s pounding as I trot across the street and back upstairs to the apartment. Coffee’s perking when Alex, hair frazzled, slouches out of his room in his boxers.
“Where’d you go?”
“Across the street to use the phone. Ruby called. I’m not going in to work until she gets here. We’re going to meet with Mummings and get my contract amended.”
“Sure you don’t want to just can it? Brandon Forbes called me late last night. Wanted to talk to you about your contract.”
I feel a sensation in my chest like a lead fishing weight dropping to disappear into the muddy bottom of a pond. “Is that all he called about?”
“I don’t know.” Alex’s bright brown eyes on my face seem to see too much. “He wanted you to call. Left his number. Said it was to talk to you about your contract. He asked for your number, too, but I didn’t want to give it out without checking with you first.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
In the shower, I mull over the situation. Should I call him?
No. I want to resolve this situation with Mummings first, solve it myself—and then I can see if Brandon’s interest in me is purely professional—or if it’s personal.
If it’s professional, after I deal with Mummings, I’ll be in a better position to negotiate a good contract with Forbes Talent.
If it’s personal, not having a contract with Brandon will put me on more equal footing with him.
Alex hands me a scrap of paper with a number on it when I get out. “That’s his private phone line,” Alex says. “He really seemed to want to hear from you. Gonna call him?”
“Not yet.” I fold the paper and slip it into my purse.
“Don’t wait too long. He’ll move on,” Alex cautions. I know he’s talking about both the personal and the professional.
I shrug like it doesn’t matter. “Got things to work out first.”
I take a taxi to meet Ruby at the airport in the private jet area, and the attendant lets me inside the high chain-link fence. Ruby gets off the sleek white jet wearing a black double-breasted suit with a pencil skirt that showcases her terrific legs. Her red hair is tamed into a smooth roll at the back of her head, and Pearl is following. Pearl looks amazing even in the jeans and sweatshirt she’s wearing, and I feel my spirits lift at the sight of the two of them.
“You both came!”
“Wouldn’t have missed a chance to see you,” Pearl says. Holding her in a close hug, I realize how seldom I have ever done that. Time to change all that.
Ruby’s green eyes flash with the light of battle—she’s eager to get to Mummings. “I hope you told the taxi to wait.”
“I did.” I embrace her, careful not to mess up her hair. “Thanks so much for doing this, Ruby.”
“What are sisters for?” Ruby holds me at arm’s length and looks me over. “Good wardrobe choices.”
Like her, I dressed to send a message that I mean business today. I’m in a pair of black tailored slacks and a silk blouse, both from the Goodwill but freshly washed. I have on square-toed alligator pumps that pinch but will keep me alert, and add a couple inches to my height.
“We should just get to his studio by three,” I tell my sisters as we get into the taxi I told to wait at the curb. “Perfect timing.”
We spend the drive to the studio reviewing the documents she’s prepared and strategizing. “I’m coming too,” Pearl says. “He should know what he’s getting into if he messes with you—I can seriously mess things up for him with just a few words to the right people in the industry.”
“Thanks, Pearl.” For once, I not only appreciate Pearl’s clout but her willingness to come out swinging in support of me. It makes me sad for all the lost time that I spent resenting her. I clasp her hand. “You don’t have to do this.”
“But I do,” she says. “What are sisters for?”
Getting out in front of the dreary warehouse tattooed with graffiti in a variety of competing gang colors, Ruby frowns with her hands on her hips. “Really? This is it?”
“Jashon films in a better studio uptown too.” I find myself defending Mummings. We tell the cab to wait. “We won’t be here long.” Hopefully.
Inside, Janet Jackson’s song thumps in the background as David and some other male dancers, stripped to the waist and spray-tanned, dance a segment that Janet will be inserted into. Mummings is seated in his canvas chair but spots us. He gestures to his assistant to carry on and comes to meet us.
“My office,” he says without greeting, but I see by the uneasy flicker of his eyes that he’s recognized Pearl. We follow him across the dim space, stepping carefully over exposed cables and around a pile of microwaves to the small, enclosed office
at the back.
Mummings turns on an air conditioner, providing welcome circulation, and closes the door behind us. His desk, a battered steel affair, has been cleared off. Two plastic chairs are in front of it. “Sorry, I don’t have a third chair,” he says.
“I’ll stand,” Pearl takes a position behind Ruby and me. Even in her casual clothing, she has a bearing like royalty.
“Ruby McCallum-Michaels, Esquire.” Ruby extends her hand to Mummings. He shakes it reluctantly.
“And I’m Pearl Michaels. Supermodel.” Pearl does not offer a hand to shake.
Jashon Mummings nods to her in acknowledgment. “Pleased to have you in my office.”
Ruby goes on. “I represent Jade, and frankly, sir, should have seen this ridiculous contract before she signed it.”
“Spare me.” Mummings leans forward and makes a pyramid with his thick fingers. “Jade is damn lucky to have steady work. Any dancer would be lucky to kick off her career in a Janet Jackson video.”
“That may be the industry standard in Los Angeles—indentured servant wages and squalid working conditions—but I’m familiar with the union standards for dancers, here and in New York, and they’re a considerable step up from what you’re offering.”
He and Ruby spar for several moments, taking each other’s measure. Finally, Mummings sits back, lacing his fingers over his belly. He’s wearing a neon yellow silk button-down with a wide, pointed collar that should look ridiculous but somehow doesn’t, contrasting richly with his skin tone and tailored slacks. His shaved head gleams under the harsh lights as he leans forward, locking eyes with Ruby again. “What’s your proposal?”
“I drafted an amended contract.” Ruby opens her calfskin briefcase with assertive clicks of the brass hasps and removes a couple of pages printed on heavy vellum. “It’s a take-it-or-leave-it proposition.”
“I can see by this fancy paper that it is.” Mummings takes the contract, and, leaning back, begins to read.
Sneaking a glance at Ruby, I’m impressed with her composure as her calm eyes rest on Mummings. But her jaw is a tight, square line whose stubborn set is reflected in a mouth more used to smiling.
I’ve always known Ruby had a steel core, but this is my first time seeing it in action. I twist my germy hands in my lap and look down to count the linoleum tiles of the floor. When I reach thirteen, I start over again.
Mummings finally looks up from the pages. “Double the wages? No agency fee? I’m glad you at least gave me first right of refusal of her services.”
“Are you an agency? Do you plan to manage Jade’s career and find her other work, should you not have any available?”
“No.” Mummings looks at the contract again. “I plan to keep her plenty busy myself, though. And if I refuse to sign?”
“We walk. That contract was signed by an underage minor under duress. It’s null and void.”
“We could argue that in court.”
“It would cost you too much to make it worthwhile,” Ruby says.
“And I know a few industry folks who would be interested to know what kind of an operation you’re running out here,” Pearl says.
A long pause. I start counting the ceiling tiles.
“Damn it.” Mummings fumbles in a drawer and takes out a pen. He signs the contract with an illegible scrawl and pushes it over to me.
I sign my name beneath his.
“Good.” Ruby collects the contract and slips it into her briefcase. “I’ll have a copy messengered to you tomorrow. Jade will show up for work tomorrow morning. Come on, Jade.” She and Pearl walk out the door.
I stand and look Jashon Mummings in the eye. “This is all strictly business.” I hope my double meaning is clear to him. I won’t be tolerating any more touching.
He snorts and shakes his head. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Yes, I can.” I smile. “But I hope you’re not too pissed about this.”
“Anything to get Pearl Michaels in my office, even for five minutes.” He smiles, too. “And I should have known better than to tangle with a couple of redheads. Go on, get out of here—but be here bright and early tomorrow, ready to work.” He makes a shooing motion with his hand, and the diamond flashes.
Out at the waiting taxi, I hug Ruby and Pearl again. “You were both amazing. I can’t believe he signed it. We got everything we asked for.”
“Didn’t give him much choice, between the legal precedents and Pearl offering to ruin his reputation.” Ruby looks at the driver. “Take us to the nearest Kinko’s. We need to make some copies, and then on to the airport.” The taxi moves out, and she turns to me. “What was that last part about?”
“Mummings got a little personal with me. I wanted to make sure that stopped, too.”
“Good for you. Now, I hope you don’t mind if we turn the plane right back around and return to Boston. The boys hate me being gone—and frankly, I hate leaving them, too.”
“Me too, Jade. I’m just not feeling that well.” Pearl looks zapped, like she needs a nap.
“No, that’s okay, I totally understand.” Good. I can call Brandon tonight. My heart hammers at the thought.
Chapter 28
Brandon
Alex inserts his key into the door of his and Jade’s apartment. “It’s not much,” he says apologetically. “Hopefully she’s home.” He pushes the door wide—and Jade comes out of a bedroom. She’s wearing a pink silk blouse and black pants. Her hair is pulled back into a knot. She looks gorgeous, and more adult than I’ve ever seen her.
“Brandon!” She blushes brighter than her blouse. “I was just going down to the pay phone to call you. We don’t have a phone put in here yet.”
“Well, I’m here,” I say. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Can we talk?”
“I’ll give you guys some privacy,” Alex says. “I can go in my room.”
“I have a better idea,” Jade says. “Come with me.” She walks past, and I smell a tiny whiff of something antiseptic, along with vanilla perfume.
Her hand sanitizer. God, she’s adorable. The thought makes me smile as I follow her out, down the hall to an exit door and a set of metal stairs.
“I discovered this yesterday.” Jade ascends the stairs ahead of me. She’s wearing a pair of alligator pumps that ring on the treads, and those tailored pants drape perfectly over her tight butt. That schoolmarm blouse is tucked in by a leather belt around her waist. I could watch her climb stairs in front of me all day long—but unfortunately, there are only a couple of flights to the roof.
The heavy metal exit door gives her some trouble.
“Let me.” I haul that sucker open with a screech.
The roof of the building stretches out before us, warm in the evening, tarpapered with a gravelly surface. A ventilator shaft whirs nearby, and the rack of a massive TV antenna rises like the antlers of a robotic stag. The sun’s waning red light plays over windows and outlines of the buildings around us. Far below, sound muffled by distance, the arteries of the city flow both ways, clogged lighted traffic. LA is beautiful in the sunset.
Jade leads me to the waist-high parapet encircling the roof and leans a hip on it. The sunset catches fire in her auburn hair. “I really was just heading out to call you,” she says. “I had some business to take care of first.”
“Oh yeah?” I rest a hip on the parapet too, facing her. “What business?”
“Dealing with my contract with Mummings. I heard from Alex that you were concerned about it, and I was too. My sisters came out today and helped me get it amended.”
“I was concerned about your involvement with him. I wanted to sign you with Forbes Talent from the beginning.”
“I know, and there are reasons I wasn’t sure that was the right thing for me to do. Is that all you...wanted to talk to me about?” Jade glances up at me through the screen of her lashes. My heart’s pounding so hard under my silk shirt that each beat feels like a fist squeezing.
“No. That’s n
ot all I wanted to talk to you about,” I whisper.
Jade leans toward me, and with no finesse at all, I haul her into my arms, working her body deep into the open space between my thighs. My mouth descends to meet hers, and she gives a perfect, tiny moan as we kiss.
My hands slide over the delicious shape of her, slender and firm, as I settle her as close to me as I can get her. One hand on the back of her head, one at her waist, I mold her body to mine. Our mouths tell a story we can’t find words for: I want you. I need you. I can’t get enough of you. You taste and feel so good. I never want to be without you again.
I love you.
The realization bursts across my brain like a rocket igniting the night sky, but I can’t say the words. It’s too much, too soon, and I still don’t know how she feels about me.
“I missed you,” I say instead, into that tender velvety place behind her ear that smells like vanilla.
“I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so freaky,” she says. “I was all wrong about you and Pearl. I’m so ashamed of myself.”
“Don’t be. Just don’t leave me again.” And I laugh so I don’t sound too intense.
“I won’t,” she says. “I want you so much.”
The hardness pressing against her pelvis must tell her it’s mutual.
“Can we—go somewhere?”
“I’ll kick Alex out,” she says. “I just need you. So bad. Right now.”
My whole body clenches at her words, and I think of pushing her up against the rampart and—but no. We need more than that. More privacy, more time.
I can hardly let go of her enough to follow her toward the stairs. We keep our hands linked. The apartment is mercifully empty when we reach it after a marathon of kissing all the way down the stairs.
I’ve never felt like this before, every nerve alive and vibrating, every taste of her making me hungrier. She checks that Alex is gone, then opens the door of her room, turning to me with an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t have furniture yet.”
