Page 39 of Dark Ugly Places

Emmy looks at me, puzzled. “Seriously? I thought we had, like, no money now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “Just get what you need.”

“Okay. Well … thanks, Mom.”

My shoulders tighten as she says it, and I can’t help but cringe. But I don’t correct her this time. There will be plenty of time for that soon enough. Emmy turns the volume back up. The girl—CelebrityStalkShow, presumably—gets louder, her face close to the camera. Over her shoulder, I spot a white car, its shape familiar.

“Who is that?”

“Jason and Bambi Redfern. They’re going to a restaurant opening.”

My hands grab the computer and pull it toward me. “This is live? Happening now?”

Emmy grabs the computer back. “Yeah. Since when are you interested?”

“Since right now. Where are they?”

“I told you. That expensive restaurant is opening on Beverly.”

“South Beverly?”

“Duh. Why do you care?”

There isn’t time to explain things to the kid. Upstairs, I grab Nicola’s hotel uniform. It’s a little dirty and still smells of sweat from the day she was fired, but it will have to do.

Back in the car, I plunk down in the front seat where I can see myself in the mirror. I—we—look tired. Eye bags. A ring of sun damage that wasn’t there last time. I apply lipstick quickly, shut the mirror, and start the engine.

Don’t do this, Martha, I hear Nicola say, her voice surprisingly close in my right ear. But it isn’t up to her. I’m in charge right now. At long, long last.

Nicola is deep on the other side, where I was. She needs time to understand. After all, I have been so good, so patient. And there is so much I have been missing that my flesh stings and pricks with anticipation.

Fuck their limits. Fuck everyone, and fuck the strangeness of the world with its fast cars and bright signs and strange flat devices that emit computer screen light. Fuck Nicola for keeping me in the dark this long. I’m here, and my God, does it feel good.

As I pull up across the street from the little restaurant, my heart skips a beat. The entrance is full of people lining up to get in. And he must be inside now, too. I find a spot to park and check myself in the mirror once more before I get out and head around the back.

The sun hangs low in the sky like a bulb, and I realize the time. Almost sunset. Outside, the horizon glows, washing the city streets in a warm, yellowy light. Magic hour. As I step inside the busy restaurant, I feel Nicola barreling toward me, as though sprinting down a long hallway in my direction. She picks up speed as I spot the Redferns in the foyer, standing in the center of a crowd.

“Stay back, Nicola. I’ve got this.”

No, I hear her whisper. I can’t let you.

And before I can even get close enough, I begin to fall backwards, and the world slips away.

18

Bambi

Bambi normally wouldn’t be caught dead in a restaurant in this part of town, but Jason had insisted she go with him tonight. Why Bruce and Kimberly even opened the place here is beyond her. Even though it is technically still in Beverly Hills, no one of any note comes here.

“Just smile and be polite,” Jason instructs her before they get out of the car.

Bambi turns to him and gives him a look. “I know how to act in front of cameras, babe.”

“I’ve told you a hundred times. It’s different with paparazzi.”

“Cameras are cameras,” Bambi replies. His hand shoots out to her wrist and gives it a forceful squeeze. “Just don’t make a scene.”

Bambi tears her arm away. “Relax,” she says as a valet opens the door. She gives him a curt little nod. Paparazzi waiting at both ends of the restaurant rush forward, and lights begin flashing. Bambi smiles and gives a little wave as Jason gets out and comes to her side. He grips her wrist again, hard, and whispers in her ear, “Behave.”