Beautiful and Broken (5 page)

People walk by the window outside. A guy and girl are yelling at each other about something and the girl slaps him hard across the face. She storms off and he chases after. I hope he doesn't catch her. Good on her for kicking his ass to the curb because I'm sure he's probably done something that makes him worthy of it.
 

Megan arrives first. What I love about Megan is that she always has a smile on her face, like a big toothy one where her whole face lights up. She’s one of my favorite people in the world. Nothing ever seems to get her down. She can find a silver lining in anything, and I'm sure she'll eventually find one for me. I can’t wait to hear what it is.
 

She slides into the seat beside me and hugs me tightly. "I'm so glad you called! How are you?"

I shrug just as one of the servers comes by.
 

"Would you like to start with a drink?" he asks.

"Whiskey!" I all but yell. "On the rocks."

He raises his eyebrows. Yeah. I know it isn't noon, but bring me my frigging drink.
 

"And you?" He turns his attention to Megan.
 

"Lemonade, please."
 

He smiles back at her and I watch his eyes lower from her eyes to her smile to her tits. "She has a boyfriend," I say as I sit up a little straighter in my seat.

He clears his throat and turns on his heel. I imagine when he's out of earshot, he'll probably call me a bitch, but I don't care.
 

Megan sighs. "Oh, Molly. What can I do?"

I love that she doesn't tell me how rude I am. She just lets me think I was justified. "Nothing. There's nothing to do."

The door opens and a cool breeze claims the air. Amy walks in with a serious face, like she’s on a mission. She usually is.
 

Megan and Amy are polar opposites, which is why I think we all work so well together. I'm somewhere in between. Amy is neat and her matching suit is pressed. Her hair is pulled back in a tight bun and her massive sunglasses cover her eyes. One word for Amy: polished. She's a ball buster and probably the only girl in the world I both love and fear. Not someone you want to piss off, if you get my drift. Last year she got in a fight with a woman at the grocery store who double-parked. There were no spaces left and the woman refused to move. Amy ending up slamming her BMW into the back of the woman's Honda, pretending it was an accident. Her foot
slipped.
We all know it didn't, but the woman couldn't prove it in court. It took almost a year for that woman to get any money from my friend. For the most part she's calm, cool and collected, and then sometimes, she's crazy and she snaps.
 

Amy pats me on the head and I can't help but laugh. The server drops our drinks on the table and Amy orders the same thing I'm having. Good. I can always count on Amy to have a drink with me.
 

"Early morning cocktails," she says as she pushes her sunglasses up off her face and into her dark hair. "I love it. How was day one back at work?”

"I'm about to get fired!"

Megan's face drops and she opens her mouth as if she's trying to find the words to comfort me.
 

"Make mine a double," Amy yells after the waiter.

I drop my head in my hands and shake it. “What am I going to do? If I lose this job, I’ll have to go crawling back to my parents and listen to their
I told you so’s
. I can’t do it. Not to mention the fact that my mother is insisting I make amends with Jason because I’m making life uncomfortable for her at the country club.”

Amy shakes her head. “Your mother.”

“That’s so awful.” Megan folds her arms across the table, giving me her undivided attention.
 

“Thanks for coming. I don’t know what I’d do without you girls.”

“We
are
pretty awesome,” Amy says with a smile.
 

“Oh, shit! Didn’t you have a big meeting this morning?” I ask her.
 

"No, thank God. The company backed out when they saw your cousin’s video of the wedding. Me on Youtube kneeing your ex in the nuts isn’t exactly the image that want fronting their company.”
 

"I'm going to kill Mia," I say.

"You and me both," Amy says. “On the plus side, my MMA clients are loving me right now. They think I’m exactly the kind of girl to represent them.”

“Go figure,” Megan says with a chuckle.
 

“Your man called me this morning to ask me if I could be his personal trainer.”

“My man?” I say, leaning back as if she’s slapped me. Is she talking about Sawyer?

“Relax, I’m just teasing you.”

“Did you hear from him?” Megan’s eyes widen and her smile curls up higher.

“Ah, no. And I don’t expect to.”

“So what’s going on at work? Did you almost get fired because of the video?"

"No. I just royally suck as a real estate agent. It was never my calling but I really don’t know what else to do with myself, and if I don't make some sales or come up with some big name clients before the end of the month, I think I might have to start looking for a new career." I down the rest of my drink and wipe my mouth with a napkin.
 

"We’ll think of something," Amy says as her phone rings. She picks it up and silences it before snatching a glass of water from an adjacent table and tossing her phone in it. She takes a deep breath as Megan and I glance curiously at her. She shrugs her shoulders and raises her eyebrows. "What? I was going to buy another one anyway."
 

“Um…who was that?” I ask her.

The server comes over and sets our fresh drinks on the table. Amy downs her double. “Charlie.”

“You could have just let it go to voice mail.”

She glares at me.

“Just a suggestion,” I say, my voice tapering off.
 

She takes another breath and smoothes her bangs off of her face. “I think I have an idea.”
 

I've forgotten what we were talking about. She must see the confusion in my face.
 

"I've been invited to a client's house party on Friday—a former actor who's been arrested one too many times for assault. You know, real problems. At any rate, there'll be lots of fabulous people there with lots of money. Score one of them and you might just make your quota."

"A former actor charged multiple times for assault? Where do I sign up?" I say with a laugh.

"Don't brush this off, Molly. Chad and his friends have shit tons of money. You want to keep your job, then come to this party. I wasn't even going to go, but after he saw…the video…he decided I might be fun and he insisted I come."

Megan laughs. "What did you say when he asked?"
 

"I told him to fuck off and stop stalking me on the internet."

Now it was my turn to laugh.

"Look, I’m not suggesting you take him out for dinner. All I’m saying is that he’s a rich guy with rich friends, and a wealthy client is exactly what you need right now.”
 

I sigh.

Amy snatches my drink and takes a sip. "Another,” she calls out to the server. “And one for my friend."

Yes. I need another drink. A rage-prone actor with rich friends? That isn't my scene, and I’m still not feeling good about myself after my big dramatic breakup. But what choice do I have? Amy’s right. I need to land a big client. All I have to do is go to the party and smile, and hopefully everything will fall right into place. But at twenty-three, I should know that life does not
fall into place
for me. Where one door opens, another one shuts and usually smacks me in the face while an unknown assailant clubs me over and over.

Four

MY MOTHER INVITES me to dinner one night during the week, only to bring along a ‘good’ friend of hers who also happens to be a psychologist.
 

When will I ever learn?

I cry myself to sleep every night, except for the nights I don’t sleep at all. And I don’t talk to Jason. I don’t call him and he still hasn’t called me. As much as I wish I don’t want him to, the truth is, I do. I miss him. Maybe more than I did before. It’s like the pain inside of me is still climbing up a very steep hill and the higher I climb, the more the pain overcomes me. I pray it peaks soon.
 

Work is just as pathetic. I don’t nab a single client, nor do I find any clients looking for a new home. I can’t imagine getting fired and having to report that to my parents. It would be like giving them carte blanche to take over my career and my life. This party is my only chance at keeping my job.
 

Amy and I get ready together. She wears a baggy red top with black leggings and chunky sandals. Her hair is curled and pulled back in the front, and her makeup is immaculate. With her pouty caramel highlights accentuating her high cheekbones and her smoky eyes, guys are going to fall all over her tonight.

Suddenly I feel completely hopeless. I have a white summer dress on and sandals. No makeup except for lipstick and mascara, and my wavy hair isn’t behaving tonight, so I had to pull it back in a high ponytail. She looks hot, while I look like a girl playing dress up.
 

Against her protests, we take my car. I know she’ll drink and I have no intention of it this time. I need to be on my game tonight if I’m going to salvage my life and my career. I need to be charming, funny and irresistible. My chests hurts at the very thought of it.

My car is a piece of shit. I get in first and unlock the door for Amy before she slides in. I see her face drop a little as she gives my car a once over. So I’m not a clean freak—not even a little.
 

“Don’t say it,” I say as I slip the car into gear.
 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she says. But I can tell when she bites her lip that she’s itching to complain. Amy has a maid that comes to her condo twice a week. She does her cleaning, her laundry, cooks her meals and stores them in her freezer—she hates to cook or clean. She cites this as a big reason for her failing to stay in relationships; she won’t conform to the traditional roles of a wife and mother. She wants a stay-at-home husband and not one that wants her for her money, which she usually assumes they do.
 

“Okay, where am I going?” I ask as I drive straight ahead. The dying sun hits me straight in my eyes. I pull the visor down and squint to see.
 

Amy gives me incomplete directions and we end up in the suburbs. A drive that would normally take twenty minutes has somehow taken us an hour and a half. We only find it after I stop at a gas station to ask for directions. Amy makes me go in because even though she has to use the bathroom, she won’t go inside. "It looks dirty," she says with a crinkled nose.
 

We pull up to the gated community and I feel sick to my stomach. Amy should have driven her Beamer. The guard just looks at me and his eyes take forever to scan the length of my silver Saturn. He raises his eyebrows at me. He’s judging me and it makes me feel uncomfortable. All I want right now is to go home—until Amy lays a hand on mine to steady me.
 

“Name, please?” the guard says as he stares down at his clipboard.

Amy leans over me and smiles widely. Her teeth almost glow under the dashboard lights and her hair looks ethereal. Man, I wish I could bottle her genes and sell them. I’d be rich.

“Amy Madison plus one,” she says in her husky voice. “We’re going to Chad Spencer’s house.”

Chad Spencer? She never said his full name to me before when she suggested this idea, and I hadn't bothered to ask. All I needed to hear was that I might be able to get a client. But this Chad guy is famous. I mean, sure he's an actor, but I've heard his name many times over in the news. I remember seeing photos of him in Sun magazine. He was half naked with girls draped over him. And I’m pretty sure he made a sex tape that went viral. I can't help but roll my eyes. I must stay strong and keep my temper in check. Be nice. Nab some clients. Then again, Amy seems to tell it like it is and everyone loves her for it. Wish I had the same amount of charm.

The security guard’s frown turns upside down. I can see down Amy’s shirt and her cleavage is out of control. Something tells me his view is just as nice. Suddenly, his eyes soften and fine wrinkles appear around the corners of his mouth. He’s almost salivating. One of the things I least like about my best friend: I feel like a leper in her company. Next to her I’m Kibble. That’s not to say that I’m completely wretched, because sometimes I actually think I’m cute. But next to Amy, yes, I’m chow.
 

The car jerks forward as I almost stall, making Amy and I lurch forward and slam back in our seats. My fucking nerves!

“I don’t want to be here,” I say quietly.

“Neither do I. But we’re here now—keep your focus. Talk to everyone. Nab yourself a client or two. You can do it.”
 

“I’m glad you’re so sure.”

“I am sure. Failure is not an option, Molly Denton. Don’t take no for answer. Got it?”

“I got it. Thanks, Amy. I love you for this, even if I don't want to go to this stupid guy's party."

"Of course you love me. I'm awesome."

I manage a smile. I do love her. Very much.

“Here we are!” Amy says, forcing me to come to a screeching halt.
 

“A little notice?”
 

“Sorry.”
 

This Chad guy's house is also gated, and a man stands by the open gates in a suit. He wants to valet my car. A golf cart waits beside him with another driver, to take us to the house. Okay. Never done this before.

He takes my keys. I notice he’s kind of cute with wavy brown hair and big, brown eyes. His smile looks professional, like he spent thousands of dollars on it. He can’t stop looking at Amy—who hasn’t bothered to notice. Tonight she's on a mission to save her pathetic friend, because that's exactly how I feel in this moment. Pathetic. I can't save myself; I need to be rescued by my prettier, more successful friend.