“Maybe,” I lied, my voice thin. She sniffled, wiping her eye.
“I really hope you do. I loved getting to see your dreams coming alive while you’re doing this. And you’re so smart and good at the whole… god, just everything. I can’t believe I got to meet you. Thank you for everything.”
I pushed off from the wall with a heavy sigh that made it more obvious than I wanted that I was crying. “If you don’t send me the invoice, I’m having someone carry you an envelope of cash, and that’s not going to look good for either of us, so make sure you send me that goddamn invoice,” I said, starting towards the doors. I couldn’t bring myself to look back over my shoulder at her, as if I’d turn to salt if I did. “Bye, Julie. Thanks for your help.”
“Goodbye, Helena.”
Dammit. I hated hearing those words in that small, soft voice. I only just managed to get out the doors into the street before I cried, slumping against the side of the tall stone column at the side entry of the building.
Chapter 20
Julie
Housing Court didn’t do anything for me, because of course they didn’t. I sat in that waiting room for the longest thirty minutes of my life after Helena left, and finally they saw fit to call me up to the counter to tell me—I shit you not—that’s criminal, not civil.When I explained the police had sent me to them, sayingthat’s civil, not criminal,the woman at the counter shook her head and said the housing case was civil, the matter of my locked-out belongings was criminal, and to go to the police. I went to the police again after, and when they told methat’s civil, not criminal, go to Housing Court,I explained that no, I went to Housing Court and they told me that the housing case was civil, the matter of my locked-out belongings was criminal, and the officer shook her head and saidwe can file a report, and that’s all we can do,so I filed a fucking report and left.
But Helena was a woman of her word. I sent an invoice for six thousand, because—I don’t know, I felt like taking five hundred off the requested amount was my only way to apologize—and she almost immediately paid it with a thousand-dollaradvance for future work,so I guess she won that round. Seventhousand dollars. Enough to pay off Daniel, book a flight back to Missouri, and get a hotel for a night or two until my flight.
In the end, everything about this was Helena. Of course she was. Everything else was justthings.Money and champagne and limousines were all just things. What was the reason we actually did these things, pursued these things, if not for people? If not for Helena?
I sent Daniel the payment in full, thanking him for his patience. I explained it as an insurance payout so he didn’t get too suspicious, and he was glowing, telling me to work with him again anytime at his members’ rate. The time came and went for the mixer, and I booked a shitty chain hotel in the Bronx, not far from the music studio, where I went inside and took a shower, crying against the wall as I did. Cried and cried and cried until I was so cried out that by the time I got out of the shower and toweled off, I was just empty and done, a hollow shell of a woman, and I collapsed in bed and fell instantly asleep, even with the curtains open and the sun still out.
Which backfired when I woke up at midnight, but whatever. It gave me time to browse flight websites, compare prices against hotel stays to find what was cheapest and if it was better to book last-minute or book a hotel stay until a more reasonable flight, and I went to contact Mom about going back earlier than planned before I realized it was the middle of the night.
So I guess I’d talk to her in the morning. Great. Something to look forward to. Having to explain whatlesbianmeant again. In the meantime, I’d stay right here and just… what, sleep?
I hadn’t had nothing to do in so damn long. Or I guess it was only a couple months, but damn if they weren’t the longest months in my life. I felt restless sitting here now with free time, confused how my life had collapsed around my ears and yetthere wasn’t really anything to do right now. I should have been scrambling, picking up pieces.
But there was nothing worth doing. No work left to be done now. No clients to charm, no sense trying to make deliveries right now, nothing.
Had I spent two years wallowing like this? I hated it.
Of course, where did hard work get me? All that effort and my big lucky break succeeded in getting me right back to square one: no debt, no suit, no hope, no girlfriend, and ready to go back to Missouri.
Well,I thought,goodbye, New York City.
You’ve been good to me.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been lying there before my phone buzzed, but one thing I knew was that it was almost two in the morning and nobody had any damn business trying to get in touch with me, let alone the stupid son of a bitch whose name was on the phone. For some godforsaken reason, I picked up.
“What the hell do you want now, Kingmaker?”
“Yo, where you at?” he said. “I got something for you. Come grab it. I’m at my office.”
“Fuck off, dude. We already had this conversation. We’re done. I’m leaving.”
“Nah, nah.” I could practically hear the turntables. Ugh. “It’s just one li’l thing.”
“Fuck off. Even if I were so inclined, I’m not walking alone in the Bronx in the middle of the night to go to a sketchy office that’s not supposed to exist. You decided I’m worth more as a human trafficking victim?”
“Aight, sure, whatever. Where you staying right now?”
“Why would I tell you that?”
“I’m coming around to give you this, if you don’t wanna walk.”
“Are you even gonna tell me what it is, dude? I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be a knife in the gut at this rate.”
“It’s your suit, man. Daniel’s gonna be pissed off at you if you just leave it. And worse, he’s gonna be pissed off at me.”
