Chapter 4 #2
I sidled up at the table with the woman, giving her what I hoped was a curious look as I recited off my practiced script, talking a little too quickly.
“Hey,” I said. “Sorry, I think I’ve seen you somewhere before, but I can’t remember your name.
You were at the studio night the other day, weren’t you? ”
She beamed at me. “I’m sorry, darling, You’re thinking of someone else,” she said. “Studio night doesn’t sound like my business. I’m just an app developer.”
Okay, she wasn’t self-aggrandizing. That took some of the primal panic out of my gut. “My mistake,” I laughed. “I’m terrible with faces. Can you give me a face to remember instead?”
She furrowed her brow at me. “I’m sorry?”
Shit, I fucked it up. “A name,” I blurted, my face hot. “Can you give me a name to remember instead? I mean, I’m asking your name.”
“Oh, you want my name,” she laughed, lighting up again, and she pushed her drink aside to offer me a handshake over the table. “Krysten Adesina. Founder of Jewel.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. How did I keep making it worse?
I panicked briefly before I pulled myself together enough to shake her hand.
I could work with this. I would work with this.
Kingmaker had said my friend Krysten was in tech.
She’d mentioned app development. I plastered on a smile, shaking her hand as I spoke.
“Julie Branch,” I said. “I’m in music. Jewel as in the app? ”
“Oh, so you know your stuff, then,” she said, which I absolutely fucking did not. “Have you used it?”
“No, just, uh… had it recommended to me. At that studio night, actually.”
She laughed warmly. “Well, let me second the recommendation. Not to start my sales pitch on you right away, but you must work with scheduling and managing clients a lot in music, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah, all the time,” I blathered, my face burning.
“My partner and I work mostly with up-and-coming talent. I mean, my business partner, not like I’m dating him.
God. I would never. I’m not even into men.
” Cool, well, I’d had a good run. Time to go get a running start and take a flying leap off the balcony while singing I Believe I Can Fly. Might as well make it spectacular.
“Who is your partner?” she said. “This partner of the non-romantic variety.”
Right. Of course she was going to ask that. I stalled. “Everyone just calls him the Kingmaker. Eccentric genius. You know the type.”
She nodded, like she knew the type. “Every operation’s got to have one,” she said.
“You and your Kingmaker should look into Jewel. It’s a small startup, so I call a lot of the shots.
I can get you a deal with it if you want.
It might make a good venture, you know? Expand it to your studio, you get some kickbacks, and we all win. ”
Oh, shit, I was doing business. Except that I didn’t have a studio. She didn’t need to know that. Maybe I could talk with the people downstairs from Kingmaker’s office. “I like the way you think, Krysten,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket. “Can I get your contact?”
“Are you on Instagram?”
I had a five-year-old Instagram account with twelve spam followers and a couple self-aggrandizing posts from when I moved to New York and thought I was hot shit.
“I’m not big on social media,” I said. “Prefer to—you know, work with other people’s social media. I don’t need too much of me out there.”
“Ah, so you are old-school then,” she laughed, and she handed me her phone to type in a contact.
I laughed awkwardly along with her, and I was halfway through typing it feeling a little good about myself for a second before the worst possible thing happened: I heard the warm, husky voice of a sexy model trying to talk to me.
“Hey, you,” Helena Warrick’s voice said from behind me, and my stomach dropped as she came up next to me, touching her hand to my back, between my shoulder blades.
The touch sent a shudder racing through me, and the sight of her sent panic chasing after it.
Her eyes gleamed as she looked at me with a playful smile.
“Do you make a habit of running away, Cassandra?”
I was going to kill Kingmaker. And then myself. Fuck this whole thing and everyone along the way. Not the Tasty Slice people, though. That was a good slice of pizza. I’m glad I got that before my life ended.
Krysten furrowed her brow at me, and I laughed a nervous little laugh. “Oh. Well, er… where are your friends?”
“You said Cassandra?” Krysten said, and I felt like throwing up. Helena smiled self-deprecatingly, rubbing the back of her head.
“I know the woman at the door said it, but I cannot remember if it was it Evans-Pierre or Pierre-Evans. I’m terrible with names sometimes.”
I stood frozen, a cold flush in my face, a nauseous lump in my throat. Krysten looked pointedly at me. “Ah… yes, darling, so is Cassandra here,” she said. “She’ll forget her own name if you let her.”
“Ah…” I laughed nervously, high-pitched and small, adjusting the cuff on my sleeve. Helena Warrick looked at me with concern.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, just a bit out of it. I’ve had a long day. I need a glass of water. Did you want to come over to the bar, join me?”
I couldn’t believe I was here asking a literal model to come have a drink with me.
I guess in a terrible, haunted and evil way, Kingmaker’s plan had worked.
Helena gave me a smile that could part the clouds and make the angels sing as she pushed off from the table.
“I’d love to,” she said, turning to Krysten.
“Are you coming with? I’d hate to steal your friend away. ”
“Oh, no,” I blurted, “Krysten’s… very busy right now.”
“Oh, yes, I’m very busy,” Krysten said, eyebrows raised high, giving me a look that made me want to crumble into ash. “You go right on and steal her.”
She was going to put a knife in my back once it was turned. I was going to throw up. Then suddenly I felt like throwing up from a different kind of nerves once Helena touched my shoulder, just a light touch, getting my attention. “Shall we, then?” she said, and I nodded, words in a jumble.
“Shall. We shall.” I cleared my throat, a hand to my forehead. “I think I’m more dehydrated than I realized.”
“Then better get a move on,” she said, and I followed her to the bar.