Demi spoke up. “Everybody ain’t got to like it. Respect is mandatory, or you can turn in them resignation papers and get the fuck moving. The people I love are to be kept safe. Charlie is to be kept safe. I expect the same loyalty you give me to extend to her.”
“That don’t even need to be said. It’s already done,” Day stated.
“Just like that, huh?” Stassi challenged, staring directly at Day.
“For some of us, it’s straight like that. You not really a part of this whole dynamic. I know you’re a stranger at the table. I don’tknow how they move where you’re from, but we’re a family. We take care of one another. Dynasty is more than a record label. We’ve all been here since day one–” The girl was annoying, condescending, and making it be known that Stassi wasn’t a part of the “family.” Hell, Stassi questioned if Charlie was even welcomed.
“Fuck all that,” Day interrupted the girl, focusing on Stassi, commanding her. She felt his stare pass straight through her to a deeper level, to her soul. The intensity of his glower gave her chills. Stassi was forced to look away when the girl beside Day frowned. “Everybody at this table is protected.” Stassi shook her head. “Anastassia…” She looked at Day once more. He had never called her by her full name, and the way he said it at this moment sounded like an order of submission. Stop doubting him. Stop testing him. The rules were unspoken but clear as she stared in his eyes across the table. “Everybody,” he repeated. She felt Charlie staring a hole through the side of her face, but she couldn’t disconnect from Day.
“So, Charlie’s sister,” the woman beside Day said.
“Stassi,” Charlie said. “Her name is Stassi.”
“Stassi it is then,” the woman continued. “What do you do? We’re all in the business, but I can’t say I’ve seen you around. Must be nice to have a sister that’s about to blow up. You get the perks of her newfound fame. We’re working hard to make sure her debut doesn’t disappoint.”
“We?” Stassi questioned.Who is this bitch?
“Mira is a publicist for the label,” Charlie informed. “And my sister owns her own event planning firm.”
It was a stretch. Charlie was flexing. Stassi was currently an unemployed-ass bitch wondering how to afford a lifestyle she had indulged in prematurely.
“Oh!” Mira replied. “Have you done any events I might know? I might have some business for you.”
Stassi felt like she was being put on the spot. This was the most nice-nasty conversation she had ever indulged in. After losing her job hours ago, Stassi was circling the drain. She didn’t feel like listing accomplishments on a day that she felt like a failure.
“I partnered with a friend to plan the Okafor baby shower and gender reveal. We’ve done a few weddings and…”
“Oh, you’re like a personal planner. Like kids’ birthdays and stuff. I think those little balloon walls are so cute. An uber economic way to create an Instagram-able experience. Good for you.” Mira’s compliment was laced in venom.
Stassi scoffed and gave up her phoniest smile.This bitch got me fucked up.
“She’s doing the next company showcase,” Day interjected.
“Since when? Why wasn’t I consulted? Who made that decision?”
Day had grown disinterested in the conversation before it even began. “The boss,” he said simply as he stood from his seat. “We got to take this call, bro,” he said, directing his attention to Demi.
They excused themselves as the ladies, and the rest of the gentlemen at the table continued their meal.
“I promise you I want to snatch this bitch across the table,” Stassi whispered to Charlie.
“You and me both,” Charlie replied.
Stassi could barely make it through the first course before excusing herself for the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Charlie as she hurried away from the table. She made sure to grab her bag in case she built up the nerve to leave.
She bypassed the guest bathroom and took the stairs to the second floor. She just needed a little privacy. She hated to let another woman see her sweat, but she wasn’t in the best state of mind to match wits with mean girls tonight. She found the upstairs guest bath and slipped inside, sighing in relief as soon as she closed the door.
The tears started when she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked the part. She was good at faking it. With designers she could barely pronounce on her back, she screamed success, but she was a fraud. She was barely treading water, and trying to keep up with the Jones at this dinner party was exhausting. A knock at the door startled her.
“I’ll be right out,” she called as she wiped her tears with shaky hands.
She dapped her eyes with a tissue and fanned them before pulling open the door.
Day stood, leaning against the frame.
“I don’t need rescuing,” Stassi said. “I can handle my own.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Day answered.
