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“Why didn’t you have your cell phone with you?” Natalia asked like somehow Martina’s unprofessional behavior was her fault.
“We were on the phone most of the time,” Lola replied, forcing her voice to stay low and steady when what she really wanted to do was scream. “I’m in the office. If there’s an emergency, I expect someone to come get me.” She was vibrating from the injustice of having to explain herself when she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Natalia sat back in her chair, calm where Lola was on the verge of combustion. “So, what I hear you say is that I need to fire the receptionist.”
“What? No,” Lola screeched. “It’s not her—”
“She’s the one who took the messages.” She pointed to the small stack of pink slips Lola had thrown on her desk. “None of those are marked urgent.”
Gritting her teeth so hard she was sure she’d destroyed one layer of enamel, Lola shook her head. “Martina should have known to come get me. She’s the lead—”
“And you’re the agent,” Natalia interrupted. “The ultimate responsibility is on you.”
“How am I supposed to do my job when someone is actively sabotaging me?” Lola couldn’t contain her frustration, not even in front of Natalia. The whole thing was so excruciatingly unfair. How did Martina continue getting away unscathed by consequences?
Natalia watched her. Dark eyes searching her. Face so unmoving that it was a perfect mask. “Are you telling me that you cannot do your job?”
Lola’s blood turned to ice. “No, that’s not what I’m saying—”
“It’s exactly what you just said.” Natalia crossed her legs. “So that leads me to one of two possibilities. Your admission that you cannot do your job, or your inability to speak precisely. Neither of those are comforting revelations.”
Lola’s nostrils flared. “I’ll handle it.”
Natalia put her reading glasses back on. “See that you do,” she said, implying with her eyes that Lola wouldn’t like it if she had to step in for her.
Lola fumed the whole way back to her office. She’d fix this herself then. Whip Kiki into shape even if she had to drag her kicking and screaming.
Adriana suddenly appeared beside her, oozing false sympathy. “What happened?”
Lola bristled at the question and the tone. “Nothing. Kiki’s job just didn’t go as expected.”
“The segment for—”
“Yes,” she barked.
“She has no idea what she’s doing. How could she? It takes experience to develop and refine talent. Not to mention a public persona—”
“I don’t need your—”
Adriana put her hands up when they reached the door to Lola’s office. “I just wanted to suggest that you might have to be more hands on with Kiki than your other clients. She hasn’t been—”
“Hands on?” Lola scoffed. “Like how you were with Roxy? Forgive me if I don’t want to fuck my client to improve her performance,” she said as she rounded her desk.
“How incredibly reductive and misinformed.” Adriana sighed from where she stood in the doorway. “Not everything has to be a battle, you know. We’re not in competition with each other. When are you going to get that?”
Lola stayed silent. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe her. People only helped when they wanted something in return. She wasn’t going to give Adriana an inch.
Adriana, annoyingly, persisted. “Kiki needs you to teach her literally everything about this business. You took on a different kind of client. That means you have to do things differently.” With that, she left Lola to brood.
Lola set her jaw, resolve renewed. One way or another, she’d turn Kiki into the star she knew she could become. Failure wasn’t an option.
Adriana was right when she went on tour with Roxy. She had to be there on hand to solve the problems. To make sure the tour ran smoothly. Lola had to do the same.
Sitting at her computer, she decided to stop reacting to things. To stop playing defense in every way.
Booking an overnight flight from MIA to LAX, Lola was determined to get her shit under control. She was either going to get Kiki on track, or end up losing her investment, falling short of her quota, and ending up working at a car wash. The moment for action was now.
Lola:Leaving for LA tonight.
