“Thank you,” I almost spat as he finally deigned to wave me through with a condescending smirk. I was sick of people and just wanted to hang with my girl and several bottles of whatever she had in her wine fridge. But first, I had to handle a twenty-floor ascent in a box of death to get there.
You can do this. You’ve done it before and didn’t die.
Wiping damp hands on the ass of my work skirt, I pressed the call button and tried to focus on slow, deep breathing. In and out. Niiiiice and eas—
Ping
My chest spasmed painfully, lungs squeezing so tightly that sparks danced in front of my eyes as I stepped into the small space, stabbing at the button for the penthouse as though it were a snake coiled to strike.
“Not going to die. Not going to die,” I chanted under my breath.
The metal wall was cool under my hands. The floor was solid under my…
My stomach dropped as the ascent began, and I doubled down on my chant, squeezing my eyes shut until the ping and whir announced I had survived the journey. On unstable legs, I took the four steps needed to escape confinement and all but collapsed against the glass table opposite those cursed doors.
“Biiiiitch! Get your ass in here, I’ve got a glass of the good stuff with your name on it,” Ruby’s voice echoed from farther in the penthouse.
I took a couple more breaths, begging my body to stop with the adrenaline dump, then straightened to follow the blessed sound of wine being poured into glasses.
“Okay, so I know we’re here to get wasted and talk about your shitty life, but we have to take a second to celebrate. Guess who is opening for the second half of the Goats and Vandals national tour!” My pixie-sized bestie was vibrating as she shared her news.
The enthusiasm transformed her from everyday badass to something altogether more. Her short black hair was spiked—as usual—styled to highlight her anime-sized navy-blue eyes. Eyes that seemed even bigger as she waited for my reaction to her career-changing opportunity.
“That’s…holy shit, Ruby, that’s huge news! Congratulations!” I rushed across the room and swept her into a hug, enjoying the leather scent of her jacket. “I’m so proud of you. You guys worked so hard for this.”
Ruby’s shoulders dropped, and her arms snaked around my back.
“I’m sorry. I feel shitty. You’ve had the worst day ever, and it’s like I’m throwing my good luck in your face.”
I pulled back, pinning her with my best wicked glare. “You’re not doing anything of the sort. You are a fucking goddess, and those idiots down at the record company are finally starting to realize it. Our first bottle of wine is going to be celebrating your success. The second one can be commiserating my horrible life choices.”
We shouldn’t have hadthe second bottle, I reflected as Ruby sat cross-legged on her counter, opening a third bottle and settling into her lecture. “The problem is, you’re only ever interested in emotionally unavailable men.”
“That’s not true! I just make poor choices! I’d love to settle down with a guy who understands me and doesn’t just want to rob me and my place of employment blind.”
Ruby pointed the neck of the newly opened bottle in my direction. We’d given up on glasses half a bottle ago when Ruby snapped the stem of her crystal flute in a passionate tirade about what she’d do to Goats and Vandals if they fucked up their tour before Red String Riot joined them. Apparently, my Uber driver really had been in the know. These guys sounded like trouble.
“Babe, I say this with total love, but you’re a fucking bull around red flags. You’ll run at that shit even if you can see the sword ready to cut you to pieces.”
“Are you calling me a cow?!” I gasped, outrage breaking through the lovely buzz I had going.
“No, bitch. I’m saying you’re the big brass bull balls…try saying that five times fast. It’s really hard. Big brass bull balls, big brass bull… OH MY GOD!” Ruby scrambled from the countertop, almost face-planted on the oak floorboards, then recovered and threw herself at the laptop she had tossed aside on the sofa earlier.
“From here on out, I am going to require you to address me as your lord and savior,” she announced, firing things up and clicking manically until she sat back with a smug grin.
I approached carefully. Partly because I had no clue what she was up to, but mostly so I wouldn’t spill the bottle I was sucking down. At the top of her screen was the Golden Fire Records logo.
“Why are we looking at your record label’s website?”
“Because they’re hiring us a manager, and it’s going to be you.”
I stared at her in shock, sure I’d misheard her in my drunken stupor.
“Ruby, I know nothing about the music industry.”
She waved her hand at me, allpshaw. “You don’t need to know anything. We’ll fudge some experience on your resume, and then I’ll teach you everything on the job. I’ve been doing this shit for years. I promise, it’s easy as pie.”
“Ruby, I can’t bake.”
