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I don’t want to talk to him, so I let the call go to voicemail.
And he immediately calls again. The buzzing feels a little more insistent.
This time, I answer. Dodging him is just going to make matters worse.
“Hi, Ren,” I say.
“Where the fuck are you?” He sounds pissed.
“I’m at… home.”
He sputters for a moment. “Why are you athome?”
I can hear people in the background, talking, laughing. There’s a harp being plucked somewhere. Glasses clinking. “Do you know how much we’re being paid to be here?”
“A lot,” I say, pinching my nose. It’s always a fair guess.
“Alota lot,” says Renfield. “Metric fuck-ton a-lot. And more if you flirt well enough with Frederick.”
Frederick Kellington, or Smith or Jackson. Some money-money-money name. One of a litter of corporate middle-aged white men who think if they put me in the right magazine or on a big enough billboard, I’ll sleep with them. I haven’t and I won’t—but Renfield keeps trying to get me to. He receives a commission from every job I get, and he’s one hundred percent sure that letting an old man stick it in me is exactly the thing to get him filthy, stinking rich.
“You can’t be serious,” I say.
“Darling, I’m always serious.”
“No.”
“Pen, this is alotof money we’re talking about, for an hour or so of hanging on Frederick’s every word. It’ll be nothing for you.”
“Nothingis nothing for me,” I say.
“Come on, sweetheart. Make an effort. For me.”
I hear Janie’s voice in my mind, saying that Renfield doesn’t care about me as a person. Just an object to line his wallet. She’s not wrong. “I’m not comfortable with this.”
“And I’m not comfortable being homeless.” As though one missed job opportunity will put him under the poverty line.
“I really should fire you.”
“And I really should quit, but here we are,” he says. “Please, Pen. For me? For your career? I’ve done so much for you and I’m not asking for much in return. Just one teensy-weensy conversation.”
I feel a twist of guilt in my stomach. I swallow. “I can’t, Ren.”
“You can.”
“Ican’t. I won’t.”
“Nobody likes a girl with a temper.”
“Nobody likes you at all.”
“They don’t have to like me,” he says. “They just have topayme.”
“I’m going to hang up now.”
“No.Youare going to get in the goddamn car and drive to the event centernow.”
I hang up. Then I throw my phone onto the bed and put my head in my trembling hands. I try to just breathe.
