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Chapter One
Corentina
Present Day . . .
“I’ve already put some feelers out for when your contract here has ended. We can never work too far ahead of the game, you know?” Ursula, my sister and manager, tells me from where she’s sitting across from me at the table. We landed in New Orleans not even an hour ago, and she’s already preparing for the next big thing. It’s ridiculous.
“Can’t you live in the moment for once in your life?” I ask her, a bit surprised. The thing is, I shouldn’t be. Ursula’s been like this ever since we were young. She’s always searching for the next big thing. Most of our life it’s only benefited us. But I’ve worked for years without as much as a couple-month break. Some of my colleagues would go to Bali for two weeks, or maybe even backpacking around Europe during the summer, but not me. Ursula’s always kept my bookings back-to-back, barely allocating enough time for travel.
I shouldn’t be complaining because I make good money, but I’d love nothing more than some good old-fashioned time off. Hell, I’d be happy with a simple four-day weekend getaway.
“No, because we never know if this gig might not work out. It’s better to be prepared.” Ursula picks up her piping hot cup of tea and takes a sip like it’s nothing. The steam fills the air above the cup while the scent of tangerine and mint waft through my nostrils.
“When hasn’t one worked out?” We both know the answer—never.
“Dear sister, I applaud you for your confidence. Truly, I do. However, don’t act like you’re above your competition. You’re replaceable, and any new venue will tell you so. They’ll point out every flaw and weakness you’ve revealed at the first opportunity. For example, lately, you haven’t done your best bump n’ grind. Your bump isn’t harsh enough, and instead, you look like a drowned slug.”
I blink my eyelids in awe at my sister’s words, and not in a good way. “I can’t believe what you just said.”
“It’s better I’m the one telling you andnotthe venue. As a matter of fact, you need to focus more during the aerial routines as well. Each time you get in a hoop and start following the choreography, I’m terrified you’re going to land flat on your face. Your palms look so sweaty and your makeup starts sweating off. It’snota good look for you, Corentina. You’re supposed to be the best, not mediocre.”
I can hardly believe what I’m hearing from her, but then again, I shouldn’t be too surprised. Ursula’s always been incredibly hard on me. So much so, she doesn’t know when to stop. It’s her biggest flaw, if I’m being honest. She’ll just keep going until she crosses a line.
“Would you like another cappuccino, madame?” our waiter asks as he returns to our table, smiling brightly at me.
“Actually, yes, I would—” I tell him, but my sister cuts me off.
“No, she doesn’t. But you can bring out one of those pastries for me, like the one that woman has.” Ursula points to one a woman has from a couple tables away. “And for my sister, you can bring an egg white omelet with tomato. No salt, pepper, and no cheese. She doesn’t need any more fat than she already has.”
Unable to hold back my reaction, my jaw drops. Ursula’s always been crude, sometimes even a bitch, but this is ridiculous. She’s talking about my body like I’m unhealthy, but I’m maybe five-six and weigh a little over one-fifty-five. I’m curvy, yes, but I’m not unhealthy. I’m allowed to have hips and a round ass, and I can eat a donut if I want one. Gosh, she has me fuming right now.
“Madame, what is it you would like to eat?” the waiter asks me, completely disregarding everything my sister told him a few moments ago.
I swallow hard and feign a smile. “Nothing. I’m going to be leaving, but thank you.”
He nods and walks off. I stand up from the chair, push it under the table and grab my purse. “Look, I’ve dealt with your crap for a long time, but what you just did crossed a line.” I could tell her all she’s ever done has been crossing lines, but it won’t do any good. It won’t be beneficial in the least bit. She’ll just sit here and argue with me, saying I’m too sensitive, saying I don’t remember things the right way. She could even start gaslighting me. It’s not like she hasn’t done it before.
“Oh, come on.” Ursula runs her pale pink acrylic nails through her hair, bringing the stray strands away from her face.
She’s about to start arguing with me, and I know it. “Don’t. I know what you’re going to do, and I’m going to stop you before it even starts.”
Ursula scoffs and scrunches her nose up at me. “Really? You’re going to act like a spoiled child? After everything I’ve done for you?”
Oh no, we’re not doing this. “You’re obviously misunderstanding how being an agent works, Ursula. I’m your cash cow. It’s not the other way around.”
She turns her nose up at me and crosses her arms. “You need me, sister. You wouldn’t have the slightest idea on how any of this needs to be handled.”
Standing a bit taller, confidence soars through every limb of my body. I may not know how, but I’ll learn. “I don’t need you. Consider yourself fired, effective immediately.” Pulling my purse up over my shoulder, I turn on my heel and walk out of the gate leading to the outdoor dining. I make a right and continue down the sidewalk, enjoying the scenery of beautiful New Orleans.
Thankfully, I already went to my leasing office and checked in with the manager, so I have the key to my apartment. It’s not far away, so I put the address in my phone and walk there. The doorman greets me, and I proceed through the lobby. Once I’m on my floor, I dig into my purse, grab my key, then put it in the door. I turn it and walk inside as the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hits me.
Today was my first time in the apartment, but I put a scented wax burner on the counter in the kitchen. Cinnamon and vanilla mixtures are my favorite, and it’s always been the first thing I’ve done to make a new place my home.
I head into the living area off the kitchen and fall back on the plush gray couch, praying I did the right thing today, and that I won’t come to regret it later.
