Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
Waking up to Quinn banging on her door, enacting a scene from a 90s rom-com, was the stuff of late-night fantasies, and yet it happened. Kya was confused, at first, even sceptical. Her first instinct was to send her away, then she snapped out of it. Life sucked right now. She’d squeeze every bit of joy out of … whatever this was. But when they sped off in Quinn’s sunshine yellow convertible, Kya’s go-with-the-flow attitude dried up. She couldn’t relax. They were three in the little car, if you counted the silence wedged between them. She gripped the armrest as they glided over the causeway. Only when Quinn took the exit leading downtown did Kya think to ask where they were headed.
‘Where are we going?’
‘My place, for a listening party. Some people are coming around for a studio session.’
‘People!’ Kya cried, alarmed. She could not be around people right now.
‘One person,’ Quinn said. ‘She’ll no doubt bring her boyfriend because that’s how she rolls right now.’
Kya shifted in her seat. It was too late to do anything about it now. ‘Where do you live, exactly?’
‘Brickell,’ she replied, her voice carrying over the wind that whipped her ponytail. ‘Just over the bridge.’
‘I figured you lived on the beach,’ Kya said. ‘In one of those shiny new buildings.’
‘The beach is where I work, most of the time,’ Quinn said. ‘I need a little distance.’
‘I get it.’
They crossed the bridge and were met with the white cityscape and glimpses of the bay.
‘Did you know Adrian and Hugo lived on Brickell Key before they bought the house?’ she asked, glad to have stumbled upon any topic of conversation. ‘I loved their old place. It was small but cosy, and the views were incredible.’
They now lived closer to the beaches, but their only view was of the pool.
Quinn did not answer. At the light, she veered onto Brickell Key Drive.
Kya felt a tug at her heart. The secluded neighbourhood was located on a manmade island off the coast of the mainland. Every corner held a special memory. She’d jogged along these palm tree-lined sidewalks, read an entire book at the park, and loaded up on snacks at the overpriced gourmet market. She pointed out a great white building that scaled upward like a stairway to heaven. ‘There! That’s their building.’
‘It’s my building now,’ Quinn informed her. ‘Unit 510. Sound familiar?’
‘Shut up! You bought Adrian’s condo?’
‘Snapped it up before they put it to market,’ Quinn said. ‘I got the best deal. Now do you understand why I owe Hugo a favour? He hooked me up.’
Quinn owed Hugo a kidney. This little outing could not make up for the perfect apartment.
‘I think I love you,’ Kya whispered.
‘Ha!’
‘I’m serious,’ Kya said. ‘You probably shouldn’t have brought me here. I may never leave. Morning coffee on the balcony, sunset cocktails … Those were the good old days.’
‘Just as good under new management,’ Quinn said.
‘I doubt it,’ Kya said. ‘My brother-in-law is the king of hospitality.’
‘If he’s the king, I ’ m the queen.’ Quinn pulled into the building’s garage, parked in Adrian’s former spot, and cut the engine. She faced Kya. ‘Now that you’re on familiar ground, could you please relax?’
‘How do you mean? I’m relaxed!’
‘Don’t lie to your queen. You’ve been nervous this whole time.’
‘I don’t relax easily,’ Kya admitted, sheepishly.
Quinn’s smile unravelled her. ‘We’ll work on that.’
It was the same apartment but different. Lighter, airier, and far less cluttered without her brother’s extensive collection of movie memorabilia, now relegated to his new home office. A circular pink couch was the star of the show. A collection of vinyl records was on full display. The balcony was exactly as she remembered. The blue-and-white-striped outdoor furniture was likely included in the sale. There was one major difference: the second bedroom was now a recording studio. A state-of-the-art deck was where the queen-sized bed used to be.
‘This was my room,’ Kya pointed out. ‘Hugo left mints on my pillow.’
‘Most of my friends end up in my bed after a night out,’ Quinn said. ‘You know how it is.’
Kya had no idea. Seth, Alek, John, and Jon were welcome to crash on her couch if they were too drunk to drive home, but she would kick them out of bed if they ever tried to crawl in.
Silence spread through the room. Kya struggled with what to say next. She ran a finger along the decks. ‘You’re really committed to this.’
‘It’s no different than turning a spare bedroom into an office, is it?’ she said.
Kya bit back a laugh. ‘What about the future? Any concerns? Will you still be into this twenty years from now?’
Quinn tossed her a look. Kya retreated. ‘I don’t mean to sound like your judgemental dad or anything.’
‘I’ve got news for you,’ Quinn said. ‘My dad is the least judgemental person in the world, the live and let live sort.’
‘Lucky you,’ Kya said, dryly. ‘My dad is the type to judge and keep score.’
Quinn frowned. ‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ So what if Quinn’s dad sounded like a character from a sitcom? Did she have to sound so petty? ‘I don’t know why I brought it up.’
‘What do you say we leave our dads out of this?’
‘Good idea.’
The doorbell chimed. It was her friends. According to Quinn, they were early. As far as Kya was concerned, they were right on time, saving her from inserting her foot further into her mouth.
Quinn’s friends were a former beach club hostess turned PR professional and her boyfriend, an event promoter. To Kya, they would forever be the couple who split up at Blood Orange. They didn’t recognize her, but she’d recognize them anywhere. Her wispy blonde hair and his dumbstruck face were imprinted in her mind. Now they stood before her, hand in hand. Every so often she looked up at him adoringly, proving once and for all that love and hate were the opposite sides of the same coin. Quinn introduced them as Ivy Blake and Victor Ortiz, then ushered everyone into her studio. ‘I’ll play my new set. All I ask is a vibe check.’
‘Is this for Summer Solstice?’ Ivy asked.
‘Only if it’s good enough,’ Quinn said.
‘Stop it!’ Ivy cried. ‘You’re going to blow them away.’
Quinn switched on a four-deck console. ‘Ivy has great taste in music,’ she said to Kya. ‘We worked at a beach club one summer—’
‘A while ago,’ Ivy interrupted. ‘I’m in PR now.’
‘Got it,’ Kya said.
‘Quinn doesn’t need my help,’ Ivy said. ‘She’s going to be a star. Have you heard her play live before?’
‘She has,’ Quinn answered on Kya’s behalf. ‘She hated it.’
‘I did not!’ Kya cried.
‘Hugo said so.’
Kya plopped into a chair. She was going to have a serious talk with Hugo tonight.
Ivy approached her. ‘What type of music do you like, Kya?’
She shrugged. ‘All kinds.’
‘What’s in your phone?’ Ivy asked. ‘Usually, that’s a good place to start.’
‘Good idea!’ Quinn held out her hand. ‘Let’s have a look.’
‘We’re here to judge your music, not mine.’
She would have sooner jumped off the balcony than turned over her phone. Good thing Victor saved her life. ‘We don’t have all day, Ivy.’
‘How long have you got?’ Quinn asked, clearly put off.
‘Don’t mind him,’ Ivy said. ‘We’re here now. Let’s get started. I want to dance.’
Quinn slid a vinyl out of its sleeve and placed it on a turntable. Kya studied her gestures. Whereas behind the wheel of her car she’d been chaotic, here, in her element, she was focused, every move studied and controlled. She started them off with a steady, seductive bassline before mixing in a familiar melody. The latest from Doja Cat, if Kya had to guess. As the tempo picked up, Ivy swayed and Victor bobbed his head. Then all at once, in unison, Ivy, Quinn, and Victor belted out a chorus.
Kya startled. She was about to do what she always did, search for the lyrics online, when her phone rang. It was Alek. Her heart rate raced ahead of the beat of the music. She silenced her phone and signalled to Quinn that she would take the call outside. While she sprinted across the apartment, it occurred to her that she might have misread the entire situation. What if she and the guys were in the same boat? They hadn’t reached out because, like her, they were all drowning in the same lake.
She took the call on the balcony. ‘Alek! Hi!’
‘Kya, girl, how’s it going?’
‘Not great.’
‘I feel you.’
‘What have you heard?’ she asked. ‘I’m way out in Florida. It’s like I’m in exile.’
‘Budget-cut bullshit.’
‘Why would they do this to us?’ she wailed. ‘We delivered.’
‘Uh … yeah.’ He cleared his throat. ‘We hate to lose you. It sucks.’
Kya closed her eyes. So they weren’t in the same boat. She was adrift, alone, just as she’d thought. Might as well get some questions answered. ‘Who else did they let go?’
‘No one else on our team,’ Alek answered. ‘But marketing got creamed.’
‘If they wanted to trim down marketing, why did I have to lose my job?’
‘It’s not like that,’ he said. ‘Each development team had to lose a member.’
‘Who decided this?’
‘The order came from the top. There was a meeting.’
‘A meeting? When?’
She hadn’t missed any meetings, as far as she knew.
‘Last month.’
‘Last month!’ Kya shrieked.
‘They called a few of us in, and … Look, I know it sounds shitty, but they asked us to keep it quiet.’
‘And what did you do at this meeting? Draw straws?’
‘Hey,’ Alek said, voice clipped. ‘It’s not like we had a real say in this. We’re all just covering our asses.’
Kya’s breath went shallow. They took her to lunch, waved goodbye to her when she took off for the airport, and all that time they knew.
‘Why are you calling me now?’ she asked.
‘I wanted to check up on you. I feel bad.’
‘Guess what, Alek?’ Kya said. ‘I feel bad, too.’
She ended the call. For a long while, she stared out at the view, which, in simpler times, always lifted her up. Not today. Her vision was blurred with the tears she refused to cry. Seth, Alek, John, and Jon had thrown her under the bus. Why did that surprise her? They were self-absorbed bastards who, at the end of the day, wouldn’t have thought twice of sacrificing her to save their careers. What got to her was the fact that she hadn’t been afforded the same privilege. It was a foregone conclusion that she would be the one to go. Her so-called friends, her ‘team’, thought her expendable. Well, she’d show them. She was going to find a better job at an even more prestigious company, with higher pay and better benefits. When she got that dream job, she would rub it in their smug little faces.
Kya swivelled away from the view and slammed straight into Victor.
He backed away, hands up. ‘Woah!’
‘How long have you been standing there?’ she snapped.
‘Long enough to know that you got screwed.’
‘Nice.’
‘Hey! It’s not my fault. I was on my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.’
‘I’m going back inside,’ Kya said.
She tried moving past him, but he filled the doorway.
‘So, what’s up?’ he asked. ‘Did you work for one of those tech companies?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘I hear they round people up and fire them execution-style.’
‘That’s my experience.’
‘A friend of mine heads a startup, in case you’re looking for work.’
‘I’m good. Thanks.’
‘No, seriously. Things are picking up down here.’
That may be true, but down here was nowhere near where Kya wanted to be. She couldn’t wait to head back to California. She needed to be on the West Coast.
‘Thanks, Victor,’ she said, with a slap to his back.
The door to the studio swung open, and Quinn and Ivy came stumbling out. If Kya had been paying attention, she would have noticed the music had died a moment ago.
‘You just got here,’ Quinn complained.
‘It’s work!’ Ivy scoffed. ‘You’re not my only client, Quinn!’
‘I never said I was.’
Kya looked from one to another. This was going to get messy unless someone intervened. She pushed Victor in the line of fire.
Dumbstruck, he looked from one to the other before regaining his composure. ‘We’ll come back soon,’ he said to Quinn. ‘Promise.’
The couple cleared out. As Ivy and Victor had failed Kya’s personal vibe test, she was glad to see them go.
Quinn pushed the door shut. ‘So much for that. You think I need new friends?’
‘I’ll stay,’ Kya said.
Her taste in music might be decades-old, but she could offer encouragement, which was likely all Quinn needed.
‘You sure?’ Quinn said. ‘I could take you home. This has been a bit of a disaster.’
‘I want to stay.’
Quinn eyed her. ‘It’s not like you to be so … compliant. Everything okay?’
‘Tough phone call.’
‘Ah.’
Kya pocketed her phone and pushed her conversation with Alek to the back of her mind. Screw him.
‘Not so fast,’ Quinn said, brightening. ‘Hand that over!’
‘What?’ Kya asked, confused.
‘Your phone,’ Quinn replied. ‘Don’t think I forgot. If you want to stay, the price of admission is a review of your playlists.’
Kya surrendered her phone without complaint. Now that Ivy and Victor were gone, she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed or shy.
Quinn snatched the phone with glee. ‘Let’s see what we’ve got here.’ A moment later, she was gasping with laughter. ‘Kya, babes! There’s nothing here but power ballads!’
‘That’s not true!’
‘Fair enough,’ Quinn said. ‘You have an album labelled “Noise”. What’s that about?’
Kya explained the purpose of white noise and its variations. ‘Green noise helps me focus. Brown noise helps me relax.’
Quinn went on scrolling. ‘Some classic hip-hop. I can respect that.’
‘I’m West Coast for life.’
She looked up and met her eyes. ‘Is that right?’
‘Absolutely.’
Quinn returned her phone. Kya pocketed it as quickly as possible.
‘Does the noise stuff actually work?’ she asked.
‘It works for me, especially when I have trouble sleeping.’
‘Have you ever tried tea?’
Kya dismissed the suggestion. ‘Tea isn’t the miracle cure you Brits think it is.’
‘I could go for bubble tea right now, if you’re into that?’ she said in her teasing way.
Kya cracked a smile. ‘From the place down the street?’
‘Where else?’
‘Let’s go.’