Candlemoth: A Holy City Romance (16 page)

I went around the desk as if I were floating on a cloud.  I picked up my card like I always did, and just as I was about to scan it-

“Don’t bother,” Chef said, loudly.  His voice came like a pistol shot.  He was standing in the far corner, near the door where I hadn’t seen him.  The sides of his nose were pinched white with anger, but the rest of his face was squinty and red.  His arms were like huge crossed hams, his whole body rigid with anger.

“Oh- I-”

“And don’t bother coming in tomorrow, or the day after that- or the day after that-”  Chef strode up next to me and seized a red marker next to the wipe board of that month’s schedule.  He slashed through all my days for that week, his big body radiating a violent heat that made me step back.

“Hey, you can’t cut my hours because you saw me with some other guy.  That’s sexual harassment,” I said.

Chef didn’t bother to look at me.  “What’d I say about keeping your head in the game, Lily?” he said.   “You think it’s cool for you to just bop off of work and go
fuck some guy
while everybody else has to cover your ass?  Trust me, your ass is cute, but it ain’t that cute.” 

Chef slammed the marker down, splintering the ledge of the wipe board. He whirled on me.  “How can you look so surprised?  Did you think the rest of us were
idiots?”

“No- I’m- I’m sorry.  It was awful of me.  I didn’t... I didn’t think.”

“Nope, you didn’t think, and I ought to fire you, but I still like you, Lily.  God help me, I do.  But you’re gonna have to prove yourself again.  Show me that little girl who works her ass off and then I’ll give you all the hours you want.  But until then... “ Chef shrugged.  “You get five hours a week.  Not this week.  Next week.  On Sunday.  And that’s it.”

I stood there as if he’d slapped me, and then felt my shoulders let go in defeat. 

Because he was right. 

I mean, there I was, thinking that I was all tough and self-sufficient and
righteous
, when actually I’d just acted like a spoiled brat.  But what on earth was I going to do now?  I didn’t have a dime in savings.  My pantry was low. 

Rent was right around the corner.  And this was 100% my fault.

I nodded, trying not to cry.  “I’ll do better.”  I said.  Then I went home. 

~o~

“Let me just give you the money,” Ry said, that night when we were at dinner.  “You can spend time with me instead.”

“No, no, that’s not-” I put my hands in my lap and looked at him seriously.  “I mean, thank you.  But I want to know that I can do it on my own.  That I’m different from my... parents…”

              He reached out and squeezed my arm.  “I want to know that, too,” he said.  His hand lingered, his fingers brushing my side.  “You’re amazing, Lily.  And we’ll think of something...”

              And maybe everything would have been fine, except that my past itself was a thing.

========== Chapter ================================

I was the daughter of ghosts. 

My parents, as I understood them, were faceless.  I envisioned them as two darkly twisting auras, twin bruises of addiction and rage.

If I were an ice cream cone, and you could order me at a drive-through window, you’d say,

“Hmm… give me the swirl, please.”

              “And what flavors would you like, ma’am?”

You’d tap your cheek, thinking.  “Oh, let’s take needfulness and violence, how ‘bout.  And give me some sprinkles, too.  Mm, the sad kind.”

“I’ve got just the one for you!” the woman at the window would say. 

And then you’d have your arms full of me.  Lily flavor: the sad, kinda fucked up kind.  Oh yeah, dip me up a spoonful of
that
, right? 

Ry didn’t know a thing about the truth of my past, and I had planned on keeping it that way.  We were from the same country, maybe, but not the same side of town.  Maybe not even the same town.

I walked the fashion show for Chandler.  It was really just a small thing, a private opening at Aerie.  The place was packed with his closest clients, fellow designers and friends.  There was a photographer from the city paper, and a friend who’d flown in from New York- she worked at The New York Times Magazine, as it turned out.  I’m glad I didn’t know that, then.

I wasn’t the only model, of course.  There were a couple other girls.  Mostly, we wore different variations of the outfits I’d worn for the shoot earlier in the week.  I felt surprisingly at home, even as my whole body filled with beating wings. 

It was as if I was an actress playing a role.  I was so confident in my director, my lighting, my clothing designer that all I had to do was
be her
, and trust that the rest would work itself out.

People clapped, people screamed, they took pictures, and I floated up and down with a Mona Lisa smile like I was wafting through a dream. 

It was awesome.

Afterwards, champagne.  Standing around in the dark out back with some of the other models, and the darkness was lit up with distant gas lights, and glittering stars.  The embers of people’s cigarettes floated back and forth in the alley as laughter floated up between us.  Ry was there, and Casper, too.  I couldn’t stop kissing Ry.

But when I did- when I came up for air, Casper was right there at my arm. 

“Hey listen, I did something.  I didn’t mean for it to- happen like this, but, well, shit, I’m sorry,” Casper said.  His voice was strained.

“Huh?” I said.

Casper elbowed closer, showing me his phone.  “Can you hear it?” he said, clicking up the volume.

It was one of his songs.  He was on stage, singing. 

“Oh, cool,” I said.  I glanced up at him, smiling, but Casper just looked at me, his face unreadable, waiting for me to watch the rest of his video. 

When I looked down again, I saw why.  He’d cut the footage with shots from our day with Chandler and Beren on the beach. 

Running together in the surf, me wandering around topless by myself, Casper coming down the dunes towards me.  It was all there.  Even that strange, stray little kiss he’d planted on me.

I moved my mouth soundlessly.  My whole body turned to rubber.

Had he planned the whole thing?  Artistically, I saw the temptation.  It all looked so spontaneous, so natural. 

Four million views.

The tiny screen cut again to a full shot of Casper Graham’s handsome, traitorous face, singing his sad, pretty, lying little song.

It was a living knife, aimed straight at Ry’s heart.

Casper’s voice babbled at me in real time from miles away.  “I asked them to send me any pictures, any video they had.  They didn’t know what I was doing. 
I
didn’t know what I was doing, Lily, I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stop myself.  We had something there.”

“Yeah, we did,” I said to him numbly, moving away.  What. the fuck.  “Key word, did.  Past tense.  Excuse me.”

“Lily, wait!”

I burst outside.  Ry beamed at me automatically, but his smile fell away when he saw the stricken look on my face. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he said.

“There’s- a video.”

“It’s okay, honey, that stuff flares and fades away, it’s early in Dad’s campaign,” Ry said.

“There’s another video,” I whispered.

“What do you mean?”

Casper erupted outside behind me.  “Guys, it’s fine, this doesn’t have to be a problem-”

Ry’s eyes didn’t leave mine.  “Lily, what’s going on?”

              “She’s in my music video, man.  I should have asked her first-”

              “Sounds like a lawsuit, bub,” Ry said, coldly.  “What’s
on
this video?”

I didn’t answer him.

              Casper looked slapped.  “Uh…”

              Ry turned away, pulling out his phone.  He paused, as if he’d watch it there, but then he slid his phone back into his pocket and left.

              I couldn’t blame him.

              “Are you…” Casper said to me, quietly.

              “No.  I get it.”  I turned to him.  “You’re fucked up.  And you fucked my whole life up.  But I get it.  You’re an artist, so fuck everybody else, right?  You’ve got to
express
yourself.
”

              “You’re famous now, Lily,” he said. 

I slapped him.  “And fuck you for that.”

              Ry had almost disappeared into the dark. 

I ran after him, my heels skittering on loose pieces of asphalt.  “Wait,” I said.  “Wait!”

              He didn’t slow down.  But neither did I. 

I was in love.  I loved everything about Ry.  I wasn’t about to just fade into the background without a fight.

              I grabbed him and spun him around, made him look at me.  Even in my high heels, Ry was still so much taller than me- so much bigger than me- that I felt it as a physical blow when I realized his eyes were wet.

              Oh,
Ry.
  The last person in the world I ever wanted to hurt.

“Maybe it’s my turn to prove myself to you,” I said, softly. 

“Lily,” he said. 

That was all he had to say.  I wrapped my arms around him. 

After a beat, his arms answered mine.  “I won’t watch it, if you don’t want me to,” he said, stiffly.

“It’s not that bad,” I said.  “But I want you to see the uncut footage first, so you understand what happened.  What Casper did.”

“I think I already understand,” Ry said.  “I still want you.  I still want this.  But it’s going to be hard now.  Do
you
understand?  I know it isn’t your fault.  I believe you.  I don’t know why, but I do...”

I nodded.  I fitted my face to his chest, letting him rock me there gently. 

“It’s kind of funny,” I said, laughing a little.  “I mean, in a horrible way… how all this shit keeps happening to us…”

“We’ve just got to hold on tight, Lily,” he said.

It was something Steve would say.  Then I was the one crying. 

Ry tilted my chin up.  “Hey, girl.  You amazing, amazing, batshit-crazy girl.  I’m head over heels in love with you.”

“I love you, too,” I said.  “You fucking asshole.”

“We’re horrible people,” he agreed, “just rotten.”  He kissed me. 

The next day I had to sign for a package from the UPS man.  Inside the package was a $150,000 check from Casper Graham’s label, and a note. 

“Welcome to Hollywood,” it said.  “You did great.”

I sank down onto the floor, so overwhelmed I couldn’t hold my mouth closed.  Holy. Shit.  My eyes kept swiping back and forth over the check, thinking that maybe I’d missed a comma somewhere in all those numerals- surely it was just for $150 or something?

Maybe money can’t buy you love, but it sure can make you feel a hell of a lot better.

First of all, I called Divine Catering and told them I’d be happy to work on an as-needed basis, but they didn’t need to feel obligated to put me on the weekly schedule if someone else needed hours more.  Then I called Steve, I called Beren, I called Hazel.

Last of all, I called Ry.  “I want to take you out on the town,” I said.  “Let me spoil you for a change.”

“I won’t hear of it,” he said.  “But congratulations.  You want to come over for dinner?  I, uh…” he cleared his throat.  “I want you to meet my parents.”

“Do they like crazy people?” I said, still shooting with happiness.

“Not really.  But they’ll love you.  I think.”

              “Ha ha.”

              “Pick you up at seven.”

~!~

Strangely, I was almost beginning to feel at home at the Calhoun mansion.  After all, I’d marked my territory… ha ha.  Even though the prospect of having dinner with Ry’s weird, ice-cold father made me a nervous, with Ry at my side I
thought
I could handle it.

“Hi, Geordi,” I said, as Ry and I came through the side door into the familiar hush of the mansion’s interior.

The Calhoun’s family butler had answered the side door as if by magic.  Geordi dipped his head, sweeping us into the house with a showman’s relish.

“Good evening, Miss Lily,” he said.  The genuinely warm smile he gave me prompted me to curtsy at him. 

Geordi laughed, delighted, as he picked up the beautiful silver platter he must have been carrying when he heard us step softly onto the side porch. 

“This way, you two,” he said, glancing down merrily.  “We’ll be serving bacon wrapped scallops and stuffed snow peas for starters…”