Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Just stop, Pat.” I hold up my hands as my head spins because I’m sure I’m dehydrated from being beyond hungover. “What’s happened?”
Pat’s eyes grow huge, then she laughs. “God you really are clueless, I’m out of here. My lawyer will be in touch. You don’t own the Broken Vixens, it’s not your call to break it up. I am suing your ass.” She points at me as my head that was throbbing ten minutes ago is now full-on pounding.
“Look, I’m not breaking up Broken Vixens, I’m leaving, that’s it.” Feeling my face burn with confrontation, I realize that Pat has always had a bad temper, but this kind of venom from her I’ve never witnessed.
“Well, you might want to tell Rachel that. Jesus Christ, Courtney, maybe you should get control of your people.” She sneers, snatching her leather jacket off the couch as she heads toward the door, turning to say over her shoulder, “And you wonder why Johnny fucked Roxy? Everything was always about you, but Broken Vixens is more than just Courtney Falcon and Melanie Vance.” And with that, she continues, flipping us off as she walks out.
“Fuck, Patty, jealous much?” Mel calls after her as my mind races, the slam of my front door making me spin toward Malcolm.
“What the hell?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Rachel announced that Broken Vixens was disbanding, insinuating it’s because you’re out. I told you not to trust her.” Malcolm drops down on to the couch and leans his head back. I look over at Melanie, like she can miraculously fix all this, because I’m not going to be the bad guy. I will not be the Yoko Ono. I’m the victim…I’m the one Roxy and Johnny fucked over, literally.
“Rachel does work for you…” Melanie’s voice trails off.
“Just… there has to be a mistake. I need a phone, where’s Gina?” I demand, really needing coffee and a ton of Advil.
“I haven’t seen her.” Melanie saunters over to the couch to sit next to Malcolm, his arm instinctually draping over her shoulder even with his eyes closed.
“Gina!” I scream at the top of my lungs, and Malcolm grunts and lifts his head.
“Okay. First, everyone needs to fucking stop yelling. You wanted out, you’re out. I’ll take care of Pat. Here…” He sniffs, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded napkin and tossing it on my coffee table.
“Sign that.” He leans his head back again and closes his eyes.
“What the hell is that?” I rub my forehead.
“Sorry! Here. I’m here.” Gina bursts in the room carrying a venti Starbucks coffee, my eyes narrow because is she just now showing up? Jesus, maybe Pat’s right, I do need to get control of my people. Not to mention get my own shit together, this staying up all night and sleeping until one in the afternoon is absurd, especially if my help is basically running around doing their own thing.
“Sorry. I got stuck in traffic…it won’t happen again.” Gina rushes over, pushing her brown glasses up as she hands me my coffee.
“Call Rachel. I can’t find my phone,” Frowning at her as my mind races this whole week has been shit. But what just went down with Pat…yeah, that could end up being a press nightmare. What was Rachel thinking?
“Of course.” She reaches into her back pocket for her phone as her cheeks pinken.
“Never mind, just give it to me,” I grumble, flopping down onto the couch as Mel crosses her legs, snuggling closer to Malcolm. I have to fight myself not to kick them.
“I’m not in a good mood,” I hiss at them, taking the cell from Gina before I take a sip of coffee.
“You guys hungry?” Pressing Rachel’s number and then hitting speakerphone so everyone can hear, I compose myself as I attempt to straighten all this mess out.
“What?” I snap looking up at Gina, who’s hovering next to me like she’s nervous that I’m using her phone.
“Nothing, just making sure you got the number right,” she says lamely…what is up with her? Has everyone gone crazy today?
“Sorry. I’ll go get food.” She pushes up her glasses.
“Yeah. Go get In-N-Out, or Fatburger,” Malcolm barks out. “No, wait, Pinks. I want a chili dog.”
“For breakfast?” I scrunch my nose, getting more aggravated with each ring that Rachel doesn’t pick up.
“It’s not the morning, babe. It’s afternoon already. Get me three Pinks dogs with chili and some fries,” Malcolm orders, removing his arm from Mel’s shoulder to reach for his pack of cigarettes as Gina nervously nods her eyes, darting back to her phone.
“I’ll just have a Diet Coke, and thank you, Gina.” Mel smiles as she takes a cigarette from Malcolm.
I want to be them.
Free.
Not be me. Trapped in my own cage, feeling like I’ll never be able to spread my wings and fly.