43. What A Tragedy
What A Tragedy
Natalia
It's only Tuesday and I already regret everything.
Celeste reads my time-off request twice. I stand on the other side of her desk with my hands clasped behind my back, trying to look professionally apologetic rather than desperately hopeful that she refuses. She looks up. Her eyes return to the screen.
“This is unusually short notice.”
“It came up last minute.”
Kasia mentioned the party at dinner over a week ago. I only submitted the request yesterday because some part of me hoped the event would be canceled, Los Angeles would sink into the ocean, or I’d develop an illness serious enough to keep me home without permanently damaging my face.
No such luck.
Celeste leans back in her chair.
“We already approved Maribel’s vacation, and Suri has a family commitment Saturday.”
A tiny burst of relief opens inside my chest.
“I’ll let you know by the end of the shift.”
“Thank you.”
I leave her office feeling better than I have in weeks. Work might refuse.
What a tragedy.
I’ll have to tell Kasia I tried. I’ll sigh sadly about contractual obligations and the importance of maintaining a professional reputation.
She’ll be disappointed, but she’ll understand.
I won’t have to go to Los Angeles or see Kiri.
I won’t have to stand in a room full of beautiful people while wondering whether Radhika Malhotra is somewhere nearby wearing silk and looking like destiny.
For the first time all morning, I smile sincerely.
Naturally, that’s when Ryder walks into the store. I spot him near the fragrances, wearing sunglasses indoors. He scans the floor until he finds me. I pretend to be incredibly fascinated by wiping down my work area until he interrupts.
“You’ve been ignoring me.”
“I’ve been working.”
His gaze moves over my face, then lower, taking in the fitted black uniform and boots.
“I can see that.”
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Cologne.”
Ryder leans one elbow against the counter. He smiles like he’s being charming. The fastest way to remove Ryder from my life is to give him what he wants, take his money, and send him back into the city wearing something expensive. I lead him toward the fragrance section.
“What do you normally wear?” I ask.
“You know what I wear.”
“No, I know what you bathe in before clubs. That isn’t the same thing.”
He laughs. There are several other clients nearby. Melina glances over from skincare. Janae stops arranging lipsticks. I pick three bottles.
“Try these.”
Ryder ignores the paper strips and holds out his wrist. I spray one. He lifts his arm, smells it, then holds his wrist beneath my nose.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re capable of smelling your own skin.”
“Humor me. I'm the customer after all.”
I lean just close enough to sniff it. Behind him, Suri drops something. A glass tester hits the floor and shatters and everyone turns. Celeste’s office door opens. Suri stares at the broken bottle, then at Ryder and me.
“Sorry,” she says. Her voice is shaking.
Ryder looks over his shoulder. “You okay?”
That tiny show of concern comes too late. Suri’s face changes.
“You don’t have to pretend now.”
Ryder frowns. “Pretend what?”
“That you care whether I’m okay.” She looks at me. “Do you always need everyone to pick you? You couldn’t just let me have one man I liked?”
“Ryder isn’t something I can let you have. Trust me, if I could, I would.”
His eyebrows rise, then Suri’s face twists.
“You know what I meant!” she snaps. “You act like everyone else is too stupid to see you. The flirting, the little comments, the way you walk around like every room belongs to you.”
Celeste reaches us.
“That's enough.”
Suri points at me. “She’s been causing problems since she got here.”
My temper finally breaks through.
“You’ve been setting me up to look incompetent because a man who barely remembers you wanted me instead.”
Suri goes white.
Celeste turns to her. “What?”
“I didn’t—”
Ryder lifts both hands. “This is insane.” He gives me one last, knowing look. This is exactly what he came in here to do. “Clingy's not a good look on you, Nat. Call me when you calm down, babe.”
“Die waiting.”
He walks out. The silence afterward feels enormous. Suri wipes beneath her eyes, smearing mascara across one cheek. Celeste looks from her to me, then at the broken tester on the floor.
“My office,” she says. Suri starts to follow. “Not you. Clean this up and return to your station.”
Suri stares at me as I pass. I don’t know whether she hates me more now or less. Celeste closes the office door behind us.
“This placement's been one disruption after another since you arrived.”
I already know what comes after a sentence like that. I stare at her. She holds my gaze without flinching.
“I’m ending it effective immediately.”
For a moment, all I can think about is the time-off request sitting in her system. The beautiful, convenient refusal I almost had.
“You’ll be paid through today. I'll inform the agency.”
“How wonderful.”
It isn’t. I need the money, the routine, a reason not to go to Los Angeles.
I pick up my bag from the locker while everyone pretends not to watch.
Janae gives me a pained look. Melina mouths sorry.
Suri stands behind the fragrance area with her arms folded tightly around herself, face still blotchy from crying. I stop beside her.
“For my part, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed him in front of you,” I say.
Something flickers across her face. I leave before Celeste can accuse me of creating a dramatic exit too. My phone rings on the way to my car.
Denise.
“I just heard from Lustre.”
“Fast communication. Love that.”
She sighs.
“I’ll put you back into the active database. I can’t promise something immediately. I’ll call when I have another placement.”
“Thank you.”
She disconnects as I stand beneath the gray Seattle sky with my bag hanging from one shoulder and my entire schedule suddenly empty. My phone buzzes with a message from Kasia.
Have you heard from work about the time off?
Oh yeah. I'm definitely available.
Amazing! I'll let Rafe know!
I hold my breath, waiting for what exactly, I'm not sure. The earth to open up and swallow me whole? A few minutes later, she sends another text.
Flights booked for Friday morning. I’m sending you the details now.
I stare at it, then I look up at the clouds.
“Just great.”
Kiri
Rithy takes my phone out of my hand, unlocks it, and adds her beneath Radhika Malhotra like there’s anything casual about seeing that name on my screen again.
“There,” he says, handing it back. “Now stop being pathetic.”
Ever since Hong Kong, the band's treated Radhika and me like some foregone conclusion.
Like one apology and a ten-minute conversation beneath expensive lighting means we might as well set a wedding date and start naming children.
Ronan suggested we could merge our celebrity surnames into some kind of media dynasty, Rafe started talking about Orpheus again and Rithy has decided the universe personally returned Radhika to me because it was tired of watching me ruin my own life.
None of them seems concerned with whether Radhika wants anything to do with me beyond accepting an apology she should have gotten a decade ago.
The label has taken over some rooftop hotel with a crazy ballroom in West Hollywood for the tour wrap party on Friday.
A celebration wrapped in a networking opportunity, which means we’re expected to stand around pretending we aren’t exhausted while executives congratulate themselves for our hard work.
Rithy mentions Radhika six times before breakfast. At lunch, I’m ready to throw him into traffic.
That afternoon, I’m sitting alone in my hotel room with her contact open.
I press call before I can invent another reason not to.
It rings twice. I’m preparing myself for voicemail when she finally answers on the third ring.
When I walk into the greenroom before our interview that night, Rithy somehow already knows. He looks up from the sofa with a grin.
“She’s agreed to come! I can tell from your face. You’re welcome.”
Ronan raises both hands. “Do we need to start planning the kiddos names?”
I throw a bottle of water at him. He catches it against his chest, laughing.
Rafe barely looks up from his phone. “Orpheus and Eurydice never had children.”
“Don’t encourage the bullshit.”
“I’m correcting the mythological framework.”
“You’re all fucking insane.”
A production assistant leans through the doorway.
“Five minutes.”
Rafe lifts one finger in acknowledgment, still looking at his phone. Then his expression changes. He looks up, smiling now.
Rithy looks over. “What?”
“Kasia and Natalia can make the wrap party.”
My blood drains so fast I feel it leave my face. Radhika and Natalia in the same room?
Ronan tosses the bottle back to me. “You gonna pass out?”
My mind produces every possible disaster at once.
Natalia walking in and seeing Radhika beside me.
Radhika learning exactly how recently I repeated every mistake I made with her.
My whole life flashes before my eyes, but instead of childhood memories and meaningful moments, it’s two devastatingly beautiful women realizing they should probably compare notes. Rafe’s smile fades.
“You alright?”
Every face in the room turns toward me. I force my grip to loosen around the bottle.
“Yeah, no. I'm fine. Great,” I add. “That’s great.”
The production assistant appears again.
“We need you.”
Saved by promotional obligations. I get to my feet and adjust the front of my jacket. Ronan is still looking between me and Rithy, sensing something but not understanding enough to grasp it. Rafe slips his phone into his pocket.
“This wrap party might actually be fun.”
Yeah, as fun as a public execution.