Chapter 5 #2
She snorted, a look down at the counter like I didn’t even know the half of it, but I figured she was safe to pour a little more wine now for. I was enjoying talking to her a little loosened up. I took the bottle and uncorked it, and I poured her a glassful again, topping mine back up.
“So what does your father do?” she said as she took the glass, and I frowned.
“What?”
“Oh, uh. You said you wanted to get away from stuff your father does. So I’m assuming it’s not this. You know, rooftop parties with beautiful models and chardonnay.”
“You don’t know?”
She blushed fully now, looking everywhere but at me.
“Oh, well, I, uh… I might have heard a thing or two but I don’t know if I can place it, but I…
I mean, well, if I’m being honest, no. No idea.
I don’t even know his name. Did it come up in your interview?
I’m usually not too interested in, you know, what someone’s parents did as much as what they did, you know,” she said, fully rambling now and clearly genuinely embarrassed.
The last thing I’d expected at an event like this was for somebody to know me from my modeling and not even know who my father was.
It was actually flattering. But I’d always liked to cause trouble, so I raised my eyebrows at her and said, “Well, I’m sure you’ll have heard about my mother Rebecca Ann Warrick. ”
“Oh, yeah, uh, of course. I mean, yeah.”
I smiled wider. “Have you?”
“No,” she groaned, slumping against the counter. “I have literally never heard her name once in my life. Do you want me to go now? I can go now.”
“Wow,” I said, before I kicked one leg up over the other and leaned back in my seat. “Well, that’s probably because she deliberately doesn’t get involved in the public eye, so nobody knows who she is. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“Jesus, Helena.” She looked up at me from where she’d slumped on the counter. “If you want to kill me, just make it quick and push me over the railing instead.”
I laughed, taking a big drink from my wine, feeling myself getting warm and fuzzy at the edges. This was a night to let loose, to be stupid and play. “Sorry,” I said, sounding about as sorry as I felt, which was not very. “It was just fun seeing you get flustered.”
“Oh, well, now I see why you’re talking to me,” she said, sitting up normally again with a weary smile my way. “I’m very easy to fluster.”
“Good to know.” I winked, and she paled a little.
“Oh, god, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Honestly, it’s flattering that you know me through my modeling and not through my father. I mean, I talked a bit about that in the interview, if I recall. So, no need to have a heart attack, Cassandra.”
“Ah… right.” She kept seeming a bit weird about her name. She’d had a strange moment with her friend earlier about it too.
“Do you… go by a different name?”
“What? Oh. No, no, I just… it just keeps reminding me I’m not supposed to be here.
” She winced, like she wasn’t even supposed to say that.
I was dying to know what the story was, what was going on between her and her spouse, what led her to come here tonight, but I knew well enough to not just ask.
Maybe it was the wine talking, but I was a bit more bold than usual.
I touched her wrist where it lay on the bar, and I leaned in closer before I spoke.
“Should we give you a nickname, then?”
“Huh?”
“A nickname. You know, something people call you.”
“Thanks,” she deadpanned, “I’d never heard of those before.”
“Something for the nights where you’ve played escape artist a bit. What do you say?”
She scrunched up her face. “Like what, Houdini?”
I stared for a second suppressing laughter before I managed to say, “See, I was just thinking like Cass or something.”
“Oh.” She reddened. “That makes a lot more sense, yeah, I thought you meant… I was thinking like…”
“But all right, Houdini, whatever you like.”
“Oh my god. I’m never living this down.”
“I’ll go with Cass.” I nudged her shoulder. “Unless you annoy me, in which case you’re Houdini.”
She was blushing harder now, fussing with her glass on the countertop, but she nudged me back as she said, “You’re lucky I can’t think of anything embarrassing to call you. Maybe after another glass of wine.”
“Easy, cowgirl,” I said as she took another drink. “You take that thing like a shot too, and I’m giving you a new nickname.”
“Dare I ask what?”
I shrugged. “Hoover Wet Vac has a nice ring to it.”
“Jesus. I’ll pace myself.” She took a reasonable sip and set it down, and I finished off my glass and pushed up to my feet, stepping just around her and off to the railing, where I leaned against it with the wind in my hair.
I gave her the opening in the process, but Houdini didn’t vanish this time, joining me at the railing with her fingers curled on the top bar, wine glass in her other hand, looking out at the skyline like it was the best thing she’d ever seen.
“Do you know Shiyun Group?” I said, and she shrugged.
“I think I’ve heard it before, but I don’t know, I’m drunk.”
“After a glass and a half?”
“I’m kind of small.”
I laughed. “It’s a luxury goods brand out of Shanghai. Jewelry, perfumes, and designer dresses are the big ones, but they have a wide imprint. My father manages the New York subsidiary and the general American operations branch.”
“Oh, shit,” she said, and she made a face like she didn’t mean to say that. Her voice was starting to sound a little less stilted, too. “No wonder you’ve got someone documenting you in a spreadsheet. Am I right in assuming he puts everything in a spreadsheet?”
“You’re quite wrong,” I said playfully. “He’s actually a little scatterbrained sometimes. That’s why he has Linyue.”
“She’s been working with him for a long time, then, huh?”
“Eighteen years. Back before my father was the head of anything. He worked for a different company then, doing international logistics between the US and China, made a reputation for himself at securing good deals with Shiyun Group. Linyue worked for Shiyun then, and they collaborated all the time. When the financial crisis happened in ’07, he was laid off, got scooped up by Shiyun Group, and the rest is history.
When they decided to launch a full local presence in the US, he was the obvious choice.
” I shrugged. “But really, Linyue does all the work. He just has big ideas and knows how to impress people.”
“That’s men for you, isn’t it?”
I snorted. “Tell me about it. I enjoy modeling, but I’d be lying if I said it was my choice to get into it.
I model Shiyun products almost as often as not.
Usually I’m going to events as a walking signboard for the latest dress or accessory…
this one, for example,” I said, tugging at the collar of my dress.
“It’s an older one, but it’s still Shiyun. ”
She looked over the dress, slow and appreciative. “I mean, you look good in it. I get the feeling you’d look good in anything, though. What would you do if you didn’t have to perform for a spreadsheet audience?”
“I think I’d still do some of this. Modeling, acting.
It’s fun, and I meet a lot of amazing people.
But…” I gestured to the party around us.
“Probably this. I’ve always been fascinated by startup culture.
It feels like the real beating heart of the city, not some glossy veneer on top where everyone’s pretending. So… that’s why I came here tonight.”
She scrunched up a little bit. “And you wound up talking to Houdini Wet Vac instead.”
I laughed out loud, a hand over my mouth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, little Wet Vac.”
“Don’t… don’t.”
I gave her a playful shove. “Enough about me. Tell me about yourself. What do you do?”
She looked away, clearly blushing and embarrassed. I wondered if her spouse didn’t let her get out talking to people much. She seemed so nervous about it, even though she was perfectly charming now that she’d had enough drink to relax. “Aside from pulling off dazzling escapes?”
“If you have the time between your performances.”
“I, uh, I work in music,” she said. I turned towards her.
“You’re a musician?”
“Oh, no. Well, in my wildest dreams, I can smash out some badass drum chops and all the girls want me. Uh.” She stopped, like she hadn’t meant to say that, and I saw the brief moment of panic before she continued on like it hadn’t happened, her voice shaky and nervous now.
“But, uh, no, that’s, uh, no. I mean, I work with the talent. The musical talent.”
“On the business side.”
“Y-yeah, the business side. Of music.”
Modeling was getting better in recent years, but it was still a heteronormative industry.
Which meant, naturally, as an openly bisexual model, I had a lot of closeted colleagues secretly confide in me.
Or ask to experiment with me, which, well, I didn’t usually say no.
I knew what a nervous closeted woman looked like, and what they needed.
I wondered if the spouse knew or if that was what the whole thing was about anyway.
I wondered a whole hell of a lot of things with this girl, but I couldn’t just ask them. It was going to drive me mad.
“Well, plenty of girls want that, too,” I said lightly. “I don’t think you’re missing out on anything by not playing those badass drum chops.”
“Ah, well, I’m missing out on carpal tunnel and hearing loss,” she said, blushing all the way down to her neck now as she scratched her head. “But it’s, uh, yeah. It’s good. More up-and-coming talent.”
“Oh, very nice,” I said. “Any highlights you want to share?”
“Oh, you know.” She hunched her shoulders. “Have you ever heard of Stephen Shale?”
“I can’t say I have…”
“That’s because my business partner and I haven’t made a king out of him yet.”
I stifled a laugh. “A king, huh?”
She cleared her throat hard. “Ah, yeah, my partner’s a real… a real kingmaker. I’m just learning from him so far. Eccentric genius.”
“What’s his name?”
“Kingmaker.”
“Well then.” I pushed off from the railing, reaching to the bar just to pour myself another glass of the chardonnay, sipping it as I leaned back against the rail. “Kingmaker and Houdini.”
“Oh my god. Yep… that’s us.”
“Should I listen to Stephen Shale?”
She took a second with eyes flicking around like she was scoping out her options before she said, “Not yet.”
“Not yet?” This girl was constantly raising more questions.
She knocked back the rest of her wine, setting it down on the bar, before—clearly emboldened on liquid courage, she gave me a playful shove and said, “We’ve gotta produce his big hit first. Something really worthy of his abilities. And then you’ll be the first to hear it. What do you say?”
Well, wasn’t Houdini a cute one? Almost a shame she was married. “We only just met, and you’re writing me a song?”
She had a look on her face like, briefly, she regretted everything she’d ever said, and then she puffed out her chest as she, I think, remembered that she was drunk. “Isn’t that what happens when you meet a muse, Helen of Troy?”
God, I couldn’t help smiling. “I think everything with Helen of Troy turned out badly.”
“Ah, yeah… yeah, kinda. But would all the stories exist if they hadn’t?”
I laughed, sipping my wine. “Music promoter and producer, Ancient Greece buff, and connoisseur of old magazine articles. Aren’t you an interesting one, Houdini?”
She beamed. “I’m drunk is what I am.”
“Sure, it’s a plan,” I said, slipping my phone from my clutch. “I’ll give you my number… and you can send me Stephen Shale’s future big hit. But it had better be a good one. I’ll be very critical.”
“Ha. You can trust in the Kingmaker.” She murmured something quietly to herself as she took out her own phone, and what I wouldn’t have given to know what she’d said.