Chapter 7
Julie
Kingmaker asked me to meet him at the stupid forward base again when I told him we had to talk ASAP, and it was a hell of a switch going from the rooftop party at the waterfront to Tasty Slice.
This place was shitty, dirty, dark, and felt so much more like home even though I’d only been here once.
My rotten soul called out for rotten places, and I let my shoulders relax for the first time all evening as soon as I got in through the doors.
And then I stopped relaxing, because the moment I got inside, the staff cheered. “It’s Julie!” Mister Beer Belly said, and the other two from last time squeezed out to join him at the counter, the girl who told me I looked like shit last time practically falling over the counter to look at me.
“Aw, look at you, babe! I didn’t think Kingmaker had it in him!”
“Hi—yes, no, he didn’t, this is someone else’s work,” I said, gesturing to the suit, and she laughed.
“Okay, okay, I got you. But damn, girl. You free tomorrow?”
“Um. No, not really, actually, I’m now cripplingly in debt to pay for this suit and I, uh… appreciate it… flattered but gotta work, so uh, where’s Kingmaker?”
“Kingmaker’s at his base,” Beer Belly said, jabbing his thumb to the same corner as before. “You wanna grab a slice?”
“I can’t afford that and you guys can’t keep comping me pizza.”
They still cheered for me as I stomped across the room to Kingmaker, who was still wearing the same tracksuit and stupid fucking durag. I wondered if he ever washed them. He put a hand out like he wanted to dap me up.
“‘Ey, Julie!” he said. “How’s my new king doing!”
I slapped his hand away, slamming my hands down on the table and leaning towards him. “That studio below your office,” I said. “Who’s in charge of management there?”
“You look fine. Any supermodels pick you up there?”
“Um—uh—that’s not important,” I said, my face hot.
If he knew how much time I spent hanging out with Helena while she introduced me to people as Cassandra Evans-Pierre, he’d be livid.
But if he wanted to criticize, then he could have Helena look him in the eye and ask him to come do shots with her and he could try saying no to that.
I was only human! “The management, Kingmaker.”
“Sit down. I’ll ask them to grab you a slice. Only three bucks.”
“For fuck’s sake, Kingmaker. The management!”
“Yo, Julie!” Beer Belly said from behind me, and I looked at where he had a plate with a slice of pizza. “Take your pizza.”
“What—I already addressed this!”
“Nah, nah. It’s from a bad batch. We was gonna throw it out.” He winked. “You know, a bad batch.”
I slumped against the booth seat with a sigh. At least in all this shit, the Tasty Slice people were some real ones. “You know, I don’t even know your name.”
“Everyone calls me Tubman.”
“Like Harriet?”
“It’s cause I like long baths.”
Sure. Guess I saw how he and Kingmaker got along. “Appreciate it, Tubman.”
Kingmaker was finally willing to play along once I sat down with the slice of the, wink wink, bad batch. “Boss’s name is Sean Cambrey. Why, you looking to take over production?”
“I’ve got a… partnership.”
He lit up. “What’d I tell you?”
“Listen, Kingmaker, nothing up there went according to plan, and it is a fucking miracle I am here in one piece. It’s not like I have a job. I just have someone who might be willing to consider kickbacks and working with me if I get people onboard with her app.”
“No battle ever goes to plan,” he said. “But a king knows how to win the war.”
“Dude, shut up. I’ve gotta talk to Sean.”
He shook his head. “No dice, Julie. Sean don’t talk to just anyone. Ain’t gonna be easy to just chat to him. And if you come around just to sell him something, he’s gonna be pissed off at you.” He dropped a pose like he was DJing again. “And worse, he’s gonna be pissed off at me.”
“That’s the only part you care about. And stop playing the invisible turntables, man.”
He put his hands down, but he was still pissing me off. “You’ll have to look elsewhere for this collaboration of yours.”
“You’ve gotta have leads, right?”
“I know this one guy who makes mixtapes.”
“Ugh, dude.” I shook my head. “Why did I think I could count on you?”
“A king doesn’t just perform. A king improvises. When you hit an obstacle, you gotta roll over it. The obstacle is the way, Julie.”
“You literally had no plan for me beyond getting me to take out a huge payment on credit and then sending me to this party.”
“Nah, nah, nah,” he said, playing the turntables again. “You got me all wrong, Julie. This was just step one. Now that you’ve got your contacts, we’re gonna work on you, get you whipped into shape for your next event. Leveraging those contacts. You got some numbers, right?”
“Ugh, yeah, I, uh… I got that woman with the app, and, um… and that’s pretty much it.”
“What’chu not telling me right now?”
“It’s nothing, dude.” I scratched my head.
“You trying to hide something from me? We a team, Julie. We’re making you a king. Can’t do that if you ain’t working with me.”
“Look, I—it’s this girl.”
He lit up. “A hot model?”
“Ugh—yes but that’s not relevant. She’s…
I mean, she might be straight. Listen!” I waved it off.
“She’s the one who thinks I’m Cassandra Evans-Pierre.
So I tried to stay out of her way, but I accidentally said some things that really piqued her interest, and she tracked me down, and we got to talking, and we…
I mean, we had a nice time. We exchanged numbers.
But it’s not relevant to anything because, I mean, like I said, she thinks I’m somebody else, and it’s too late to explain now. ”
“You’re into her, huh?”
“I—” My face burned. “That’s not important!”
He whipped out a piece of paper from nowhere, marker in hand. “Let’s note this down.”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Kingmaker.”
“What’s her name?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“I’ve got the attendance list for that party. I’ll check one by one.”
“Ugh, fine—it’s Helena. Helena Warrick.”
He wrote it down, HELENA WARRICK – HOT MODEL. I scowled.
“Dude, she’s not just an arm warmer. Don’t reduce her to hot model.”
“Oh yeah?” He didn’t sound convinced. I scowled.
“She’s funny and clever and intelligent, and she’s charming and makes you feel listened to, and—for fuck’s safe, don’t write that down!”
But write it down he did, HELENA WARRICK – HOT MODEL: FUNNY, CLEVER, INTELLIGENT, CHARMING, MAKES YOU FEEL LISTENED TO. He’d started writing the part about me telling him not to write it down, and he crossed it out. “Sounds like she’s a good one. She like limos and champagne?”
“Dude, stop. She thinks I’m Cassandra. Like you said, I gotta stay away from everyone who does.” I shook my head. “Forget her. What’s important is that I’ve been going all in on telling people I do music, so I’ve gotta… get involved in music. I need to have something to show for it.”
“Like?”
“Stephen Shale,” I said, and he raised his eyebrows.
“That kid from yesterday?”
“I need to… have him… in my portfolio.”
He chuckled. “Better look somewhere else. Stephen’s a hopeless nobody. He ain’t never gonna make it. Got no talent, got no motivation.”
“What? Yesterday you were saying he was the next big thing!”
He shrugged. “I gotta say that to his face. Don’t wanna discourage him.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I wish he’d mentioned that before I’d promised Helena anything to do with him. “Fine,” I said, polishing off the rest of the slice and standing up. “Guess I’ll… regroup. Check in with the king’s cavalry.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. I got some time on Sunday, and then we can do some biz together on Tuesday after work.”
“You have a job?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Nine to five. Gotta make contacts somehow.”
Weird. “What’s on the itinerary for Sunday?”
“Grooming you into shape. You don’t have the best social graces, do you?”
“I-I do fine.”
“How’d you handle the conversations at the party?”
I scowled. “What, are you going to give me etiquette lessons?”
“Etiquette lessons,” he said, posing like he was about to drop the most forgettable album of the year, “for the modern era.”
“Okay, Kingmaker, sure. See you then. Bye,” I said, and I headed for the door.
“Peace out,” he said, apparently taking it fully in stride that I was just walking out mid-conversation. Literally everything just rolled right off that guy. Pissed me off.
I walked quickly through the streets, dodging traffic and making it back to my complex, and I went around to the back and fished my key for the laundry supply closet out of my pocket, rattling the door open. Flicked on the lights inside, and Harold scurried away from his spot on the shelf.
“Harold, my guy, you are not gonna believe how my day went,” I said. “Damn, it’s good to see you again, buddy.”
Harold wasn’t listening. Whatever. I pulled aside the divider that hid the door to my room—the landlord put it there for safety purposes but it was pretty clear it was to keep him safe from apartment inspections if they came around—and I got into my little cell and, very carefully, took off my suit and closed it up in the suit protector Daniel had given me, setting down my bag and hauling out my extensive range of haircare and skincare products before I managed to fish out my old clothes.
I took a shower, and by shower I mean sponge bath in the laundry sink and floor drain in the corner of my room, which was a bit shitty but I’d gotten used to it, and I changed into my pajamas before I set out to try the makeup remover and the nighttime skincare routine.
I didn’t actually have a mirror—I didn’t like to see myself most days—so I opened my phone with the camera on selfie mode, and I stopped, just… looking at myself.
It was weird to say so, but I was… cute.
Daniel was a miracle worker, because I actually looked kind of pretty with this style.
I’d never seen my hair so lustrous, so bouncy, so sleek.
And between the hairstyle, the lashes, and the makeup, I found myself looking at my eyes, wondering if they’d always looked like that.
Five thousand dollars in debt. Well, forty-seven hundred.
I’d returned the jewelry after the event, when I went to pick up my bag and old clothes.
But I’d had the night of my life, and now I was looking at myself wondering if maybe…
I don’t know… maybe there was something about me that I didn’t know about before.
What a time and place to be when a text came through from Helena fucking Warrick.
HELENA WARRICK
Did you manage to vanish safely tonight, Houdini? You were still a little unsteady on your feet heading out.
Ha. Good of her to worry, but I’d been sober on my way out the door. I was unsteady from an hour-long conversation with Helena Warrick, which was terrifying first because I needed to come up with more and more cover stories, and secondly because… shit, the way she looked at me. I texted back.
JULIE
Home sweet home. Did Linyue find out?
HELENA WARRICK
Not yet. She’ll find out in the morning. But hopefully Mr. Cheng will have good things to report, and she’ll only be a little bit furious with me.
JULIE
Good luck. I know you have some escape techniques too if it gets too hot.
HELENA WARRICK
We’ll see. I’ve got a lot of tricks up my sleeve.
What part of the city are you in?
God, I could only imagine the looks she’d give me if she saw the shithole I lived in. I laughed awkwardly as I texted back, leaning on a cold bare wall.
JULIE
Queens. It’s not a big place, but it’s simple, and I think that suits me.
HELENA WARRICK
Oh, that’s not too far then. I had to head back into Manhattan.
JULIE
Your father’s fancy brownstone in the Upper East Side?
HELENA WARRICK
I’m twenty-five years old, Houdini. I don’t live with my parents. I’ve got a nice apartment in Tribeca all to myself. A bit cozy, but I like it that way too.
Ha. Yeah, what self-respecting twenty-five-year-old would live with her parents? Not like I was going to be doing that at the end of June. But self-respecting had never been in the cards for me.
Although. I took a second longer looking at my picture in the camera. Maybe I was due just a little bit of respect. Even if it was mostly Daniel’s work.
I really needed to stop talking to Helena. Just say something polite and make it clear we weren’t having any further conversations. But…
JULIE
It was great to meet you tonight.
Thanks for being patient while I had a little bit of a nervous breakdown for part of it…
But I had a really good time.
HELENA WARRICK
I did too!
And please, ignore anything Estelle said.
JULIE
She’s a chatty one, huh?
HELENA WARRICK
That’s the polite word for it…
We’ll do something again! I still didn’t get to ask you anything about old magazine articles.
Yeah, I wonder why. Despite it, I found myself smiling like an idiot as I texted back.
JULIE
Next time, I’ll talk your ear off about it.
HELENA WARRICK
And Ancient Greece and your next hit song. Don’t disappoint me, Houdini ?
I think I had a hernia. There were like six hundred reasons she wouldn’t be flirting with me even if she were gay. But that was a little flirty.
We’d apparently skipped Cass and had moved straight to Houdini as my nickname, which was mortifying how much I was starting to like it. I was such a fucking dumbass.
JULIE
And you still owe me something embarrassing! Don’t you disappoint me either.
Goodnight, Tribeca.
HELENA WARRICK
Goodnight, Queens.
Yeah. Goodnight, Queens.
I took off my makeup, fumbled my way through a skincare routine that had more steps than I was using to doing literal steps in a day, and I sank onto a grimy, stiff mattress on the floor to sleep.