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“Of course there’ll be more women,” Sabrina snapped. “The guy is a sleaze nut of the first order. He was forced out of his previous company, and no one will say why.”
“If anyone else complains, we pay them off, too,” Chip responded smoothly. “We keep them quiet. That’s what Jordan would be paying us for. Have you seen the contract? Count those zeros again.”
Alanna gripped the table, hard. “We do NOT represent sexual predators.”
“Alleged sexual harasser,” Raul piped up.
“AND” Alanna continued, “even if we did, I still wouldn’t agree to rep Jordan Boon. You know why?” She didn’t wait for Chip to answer. “Because, eventually, there’s going to be a brave, righteously pissed-off woman who won’t take Jordan’s slimy money for her silence. She’s going to sing to the rooftops, and then all the other girls Boon’s abused over the past 20 years in his broship startups will come forward, too. He’s going down in flames, and when he does, any company representing him is going to get burned, too. We’d never sign Momentum Therapeutics or any other company for that matter.”
“Bullshit,” Chip spat, his face an impressive shade of red beneath his fake tan.
The door to the conference room cracked open, and Renee stuck in her head.
“We’re busy, god dammit!” Chip snapped.
Renee ignored him and looked at Alanna. “It’s Layla. She says it’s an emergency.”
Alanna glanced at her phone and saw notifications for three missed calls and several text messages from her sister. Her heart grew big, muscly arms and climbed into her throat.
“Hey, I’m talking here,” Chip hollered and pounded on the conference table.
Alanna held up her index finger, unlocked her phone, and glanced at the first text message.
Mom fell down the stairs. She’s in the hospital. Pls call me!!!!
Alanna took a long, loooong breath, then turned to the three sets of eyes staring at her. “I have to go.”
“What?” Chip’s face was turning purple. All this stress couldn’t be good for him. The man was only 50, but innumerable steak dinners, daily afternoon whiskeys, and a regular dose of whatever they put in Viagra couldn’t be good for his heart.
“You can’t go,” he insisted. “Jordan Boon needs an answer. He’s probably got three other agencies lined up after us.”
“Jordan Boon wants an answer?” Alanna slipped her laptop into her bag and walked to the door of the conference room. “I’ve got an answer for him. He can go fuck off!”
Alanna kicked the door closed behind her, cutting off Chip’s outraged squawk.
Ch. 2 Alanna
Afterpossiblybreakingthesound barrier on her drive from Los Angeles to Yucca Hills, Alanna sped her cherry red Mercedes GT into the parking lot of Yucca Hills General Hospital.
Her Christian Louboutin heels clicked on the tiled floor as she marched through the emergency room and passed several people waiting to be seen. One haggard mother held a bucket in front of a loudly vomiting child, while a pierced teenager in another seat tucked a heavily bandaged hand into his chest. An ominous baggie filled with ice sat on the chair between his splayed legs.
“Diane Sandoval,” Alanna said to the woman sitting behind the front desk. After showing her ID and waiting 10 frustrating minutes for the woman to receive approval over the phone, she was given a visitor’s badge and a room number. A hulking male nurse took her up an elevator and escorted her to the door of her mother’s room. As the nurse plodded away, notes of laughter wafted from the door.
Alanna gently pushed it open.
Her younger sister, Layla, sat on the edge of a hospital bed, her impossibly long braid swinging gently as she laughed. Her outfit of sky-blue corduroy jumper over paisley pink blouse, complete with doe-skin ankle boots and a sparkly pink headband screamed ‘kindergartener allowed to dress herself for the first time.’ And yet, as with every brazen and bizarre outfit Layla wore, she looked utterly adorable.
“Garland is so bossy. She pounces on poor Garbo,” Layla said to their mother. “They’re both so adorable, though. Garbo loves sitting on the windowsill and trilling at the birds.”
Reclining on the bed, their mother laughed roughly. “They both sound so sweet. I can’t wait to meet them.”
Something bitter knotted in Alanna’s stomach. It definitely wasn’t jealousy, because Alanna Sandoval wasn’t jealous of anyone, much less her own sister. Who cared if Layla and their mother were practically best friends? Those two had always been carbon copies of each other, both full of sunshine and unicorn kisses.
And then there was Alanna.
Yes, of course she and her mother loved each other—family was family, after all—but it was hard to truly connect with someone when you spoke completely different languages.
Alanna’s mother couldn’t care less about her daughter’s designer dresses, client accounts, or flashy car. Meanwhile, Alanna never understood how her mother could go on about different rose hybrids for hours or why she’d bother to name every single hummingbird that showed up at her feeders.
