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“Where are you going?” I ask, disappointed that what was a relaxing night has soured.
“To get a drink,” she says over her shoulder, and she steps inside the house.
How stupid of me to ask a question when I already knew the answer.
Chapter Ten
LILAH
The sunshine heats my skin, and the alcohol I’ve drunk weighs me down on a sun lounger on the patio. Life is pretty good today.
My cell phone rings. I look at the table and feel at my sides. No phone. I groan, staring into Jimmy’s house, through the open floor plan, and spot it on the kitchen island. I left it there when I went in for a refill. Shit. The kitchen is, like, a mile away. Getting up is too much effort, so I let the damn thing ring. To hell with it.
It starts up again a few minutes later. I release a frustrated breath and slowly peel myself off the slats of teak wood before trudging to the sliding doors. Entering the house, I pull my sunglasses off my face and toss them on the coffee table. My agent’s name flashes on the screen. I debate not picking up, but I might as well get the call over with, especially since I’m already up.
“Hey, Mina.”
“You sound rough,” she says in her mousy voice.
“Yeah, thanks. What’s up?” I plop down on the couch and stretch my legs out on Jimmy’s coffee table.
“I got a call from the House of Carlisle. They’re considering making you their face next year, so they want to set up a meeting.”
I run her words over in my head a few times to make sure I heard her correctly. Her voice holds no inflection, so it can’t mean what I think it does. The House of Carlisle is a high-end fashion house that normally works solely with runway models. Since my five-seven stature is too short for runway, I’m surprised they want me.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
Mina chuckles. “Yes, I’m sure. Though I’ll be honest, I’m as surprised as you.”
“Why aren’t they using one of their usual girls?”
“They’re trying to attract a different sort of customer. They’re going to have their regular line as always, but they want to move into the millennial market with a high-priced line that’s still somewhat affordable to a high-end shopper. Investment pieces, so to speak.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll cut the partying and get your head on straight so you can land this campaign.” One minute monotone, another happy, and now snarky. She’s bipolar. Maybe she should take a pill and calm the fuck out.
I tuck my knees up to my chest and wrap my free arm around my legs. “I’m staying with Jimmy right now.”
Mina responds with a sardonic laugh. “You and I both know that as hard as he tries, he cannot keep you in line.”
She’s aggravating me, so I might as well keep this conversation to logistics. “When’s the meeting?”
“In a few days. I’ll email you the details. Lilah, I’m serious. Stay off the booze and whatever else you’ve been using. They’re interested, but your reputation precedes you and it’s a hurdle we need to overcome if you’re going to land this campaign. I have twenty clients who would kill for this opportunity.”
“I know, I know. I won’t disappoint you.”
“Make sure you don’t.” The line dies.
I should slip her an oxy next time we have lunch. She’ll thank me.
Anxiety squeezes my chest as Mina’s news sinks in. So much responsibility if I land the job. I should be dancing around the room and calling Jimmy. He’ll be so happy, happier than me probably, to hear I have this big of a shot. It’s his dream. I chew on my fingernails, tension building in my body. Once I calm my nerves, I’ll be ecstatic.
I head to the spare bedroom and lift the corner of the mattress to grab my stash.
I grab my weed and rolling papers, head back to the living room, and roll myself a joint. One inhale and my body sinks into the couch as I exhale the puff of smoke. My eyes slowly shut, and the panic attack subsides.
* * *
