“I don’t do out of the house anymore.”
“Tonight and the whole week you do. Vito has been busting his ass to do your routine and nailed it. I’m not taking him off the stage just because you decided to show up. Be good this week, and I’ll consider giving you your stage privileges back.”
“Fair enough. But when I get my privileges back, we’re gonna renegotiate the terms of my contract.”
“No, we’re not. You’re in no position to make demands.”
“You’ll give me a flexible schedule. Three days onstage, three days on the website, and Sunday off.”
“Get out, Fab. Get some sleep to go back to your senses. I’ll text you the hotel address.”
I walked to his desk and put Tiara on top of it. “Three days on stage, two days on the website, the whole weekend off and a raise.”
“Get that thing off my desk.”
“Give me my contract.”
Tiara snarled, backing me up. Such a good girl.
He snarled back at her, but she barked and grrrrred, sending him barreling against the wall. I tried so hard not to laugh. He was a giant afraid of a little thing like a cute, five-pound dog.
“Sign that contract, Jayjay, and send it to me before the party.” I took Tiara and whistled my way out of the office, feeling a sense of freedom I’d long lost.
With the flexible schedule, I could see my daughter and my family more often, give my sister a little bit more of the attention she needed, and try my luck finding a job my daughter wouldn’t be ashamed of telling her friends about.
A job that wouldn’t get women I liked to bug me or kick me out of their houses. Then when the time was right, I’d meet another Lady Brighton, and she would see me for who I really am and like me back for real.
Except there was only one Lady Brighton, and the feelings I’d experienced with her, even if I’d known her for one day only, were like no other. Nothing I’d ever felt before, not even with Priscilla.
Something to be felt once in a lifetime.
Something you regret losing for a lifetime.
CHAPTER25
Gabrielle
The morning alarms rang, and I kept on snoozing. I ignored all the calls, even Zoey’s. This Monday—and every day after that—I’d hide under the quilt, buried in shame, refusing to show my face to the world.
From now on, I’d live on takeout, get a cat, become a hoarder and be the creepy cat lady that never threw anything or went out anymore until she died alone and got eaten by the rats in her apartment because even the cat couldn’t stand her and ran away. That was the only life fit for a walking disaster like myself.
The phone vibrated and Zoey’s name blinked on the screen for the millionth time. I shook my head at it and cocked my head back under the quilt.
Bang! Bang! Bang! “Gabi, I know you’re in. Open up.” Zoey’s voice came muffled from behind the door.
Sobbing with no tears in defeat, I dragged myself out of bed and opened the door. She was my friend after all, and she deserved a proper goodbye.
“Ahhh!” she screamed in terror. “What happened to you?”
I must have looked like shit, but who cared? I was dead. I scratched the tangled mess that was my hair and yawned as I let her in. “Nothing. Just committed social suicide last night.”
“I knew I should have kept an eye on you all weekend. What happened now?”
I caught sight of my reflection in the hallway mirror and almost tripped. My mismatched oversized pajamas made me look homeless, my eyes puffy and wrinkly, mascara running down my face, and my hair… Frankenstein’s Bride would be a fashion icon compared to me.
Plopping down on the couch, I puckered my lips. “I told Fletcher I got engaged, and he’s throwing a party on my honor next week to celebrate, invitingeverybodyto meet my fiancé.”
“Did you smoke pot or something? Oh fuck. You went to the liquor store again. Gabi! After I sacrificed my liver for you the other day—”
