Time's Up (20 page)

Authors: Janey Mack

BOOK: Time's Up

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“No thanks.”

“Maisie,” Daicen said around the candy he held between his teeth. “If you do as I say, your celebrity will last no longer than the triboluminescent effect of this Life Saver.” He crunched the candy, emitting a tiny blue-white spark.

I wish.

I let my breath out in a slow exhale. “Thanks for today. I'm sorry, I really do appreciate your help.”

“Now, now,” he said pleasantly. “I am the nice one.”

“Gosh. There's got to be
something
I can do to repay you . . .” I picked Bliss's business card off the dash. “Why, I know! I'll have Mom invite Bliss over for dinner.”

“As your preferred brother and newly signed agent, I was prepared to charge you a discounted rate of ten percent.” He plucked the card from my fingers and slipped it into his shirt pocket. “I've changed my mind. I'll take thirty. Gross.”

I laughed as we drove out of the parking ramp. “Now what?”

“Call Leticia. Tell her the good news.”

Chapter 29

“This better be good, McGrane,” Leticia warned. “Calling me so early an' shit on a Saturday morning.”

It was five minutes to ten. “Have you seen it?”

“You mean the video where Mayor Coles assault-n-batteries your weak ass and you throw up on yourself to get him back?”

“That'd be the one.”

Leticia laughed. “How 'bout I get Niecy and meet you at Butch's to figure out how to save your lily-white onion?”

An infinitesimal lump formed in my throat.

“Hold up.” Leticia's voice turned suspicious. “You ain't thinking about quitting on me, now? Cuz, I ain't in the mood to go shopping for another marine, you dig?”

Easily swallowed.

“Are you in the mood to fly to New York tomorrow and appear with me on the
Good Day USA
show Monday morning?”

Silence.

A lot of it.

“You comin' at me correct?”

“Yes,” I said.

Her scream of excitement was so shrill I dropped the phone.

Daicen met us on the sidewalk, opening the gate. He stowed Leticia's bags in the trunk, installed her in the front seat, and closed the passenger door behind her.

“Damn, you know some fine-looking boys, McGrane,” Leticia said, watching my brother come 'round the hood.

“Anyone in particular?” I asked innocently, opening the door to talk about Ernesto.

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

Yes, actually, I would.

Daicen got in and started the car.

“You're rollin' in a tight whip.” Leticia ran her hand along the center console. “What do you do, anyways?”

“I'm a lawyer.”

Leticia shot me a look over her shoulder. I nodded in confirmation that he was, indeed, a lawyer.

“We be grown women, so why 'zactly you coming along to New York?”

My brother tipped his head up and looked at me in the rearview mirror. Even though I couldn't see his eyes through his Smith Optics, I knew he was smiling. “I'm Maisie's agent.”

“Her what?” Leticia's chin hit her chest.

She wrestled around in her seat, fighting the seat belt to face me. “I thought this was all Dhu West. You didn't spill you be getting famous.” She threw a small head bob my way, then readjusted herself back in the gray leather seat. “Needin' an agent. Shit, what am I? The jankey-ass Robin to your Batman?”

“Not at all, Ms. Jackson,” Daicen said calmly. “Maisie's humiliation is merely one of those moments where others find it necessary to offer her an opportunity to further her embarrassment for money.”

“Is she payin' you?”

Daicen on the hot seat.
I shivered with silent laughter.

“Of course,” Daicen said.

“How much?”

Or not.
My brother wasn't laughing. “Ten percent.”

“Oh yeah? I heard agents take fifteen.”

“It's a discounted rate. We are related, after all.”

Leticia rolled her tongue in her cheek. “You think I need an agent?”

“I don't know,” Daicen said. “Do you?”

She smoothed the orange fabric of her capris. “What would you charge to represent me?”

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, considering. “Ten percent.”

Leticia chewed that over for a minute. “No. You best take the fifteen.”

“That's up to you, Ms. Jackson.” He gave me another rearview mirror full of sunglasses. “May I ask why?”

“Cuz I don't want no strings if I gotta fire your ass for salting my game.”

“Agreed.” Daicen held out his hand and Leticia shook it.

“You got any talk radio in this ride?”

Sterling Black's PR machine had muscle behind the makeup. We flew to New York first-class, had the Dhu West limo at our disposal, and spent the night in the gorgeous James Hotel. At least I did. Leticia couldn't fathom staying in, and my brother was more than happy to entertain his new client
.

I called Flynn after a decadent room service dinner. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself, Snap. Calling for a case update or just to hear my voice?”

“Both.”

“Sure.” He snorted. “The memorial IDs are a slow slog. I swung by the Local #56 and got a reception colder than dry ice.”

“Surprised, were you?”

“Hardly.” He chuckled. “I traced the phone number on the back of the picture.”

“And?”

“It belongs to The Storkling. A private club owned by a shell corporation with ties to the Veterattis. But it's a helluva thing, trying not to trip any of the BOC's alarms. Or Da's.”

There was a long pause. I knew exactly what he was thinking. “I've told you all I can, Flynn. Hank and I aren't exactly seeing eye to eye lately.”

“Well, I guess that's something. Good luck tomorrow.”

3:50 a.m., feeling bizarrely flippant in a navy blue Marc Jacobs suit, I went down to the lobby of the James Hotel. Leticia and Daicen were already waiting in the limo, dressed for the day in fuchsia and black respectively, their eyes ablaze with the adrenaline and excitement of a couple of raccoons caught in a Burger King Dumpster.

I got in the car.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Leticia said, fanning herself with her hands. “We saw them both! Megyn Kelly
and
Sean Hannity.”

“When?”

“Last nightâ” Daicen started.

“You snooze, you lose!” Leticia said. “My agent got me a private tour of Studio J.”

“Studio J?”

“The Fox News building.” Daicen's eyes creased at the corners. “It might have gone a bit smoother if Leticia hadn't completely lost her mind.”

“It's true.” Leticia shook her head in unremorseful delight. “I was screaming like I'd won the Showcase on
The Price Is Right
. Whaddya expect?” She waved frantically at her partner in crime. “C'mon, c'mon. Show her the pictures!”

Daicen handed me his iPhone.

“Hannity even took us on set and threw me a football.”

I scrolled through a roll of Leticia hugging and posing with her celebrity crushes. I held out the phone. “Niecy'll turn grass green when she sees these.”

“Won't she, though?” Leticia grabbed the phone, laughing in pure delight. “Can I? E-mail?” she asked Daicen.

“Certainly.” Leticia started e-mailing the photos. My brother caught my eye. “Dhu West may have finished with Talbott Cottles Coles,” Daicen said, “but the mayor remains a media darling. And you, sister dear, are not.”

Was reinstatement really worth this level of disgrace? Were my coworkers? Was anything?

“The secret to ending this or any other type of celebrity is . . .” He leaned forward until his forehead almost touched mine and whispered the sacred secret of the ages, “Boredom. Do not raise your voice, smile, frown, or shrink away. Remain stone-faced and monotonous.”

“And then?”

“They'll cut to commercial and toss your bromidic being to the curb before the break's ended.”

“Genius,” I croaked.

The limo slowed to a stop in front of the broadcast building. We stepped out into the blazing lights, a small crowd of out-of-towners already gathering for the chance to wave at their friends back home on
Good Day USA
's weather segment.

Inside, studio aides in maroon blazers met us at Reception, issued us passes, and delivered us to the place where the morning magic happened. The set.

Good Day USA
was shot on two large and two smaller gold-and-orange-colored stages. Leticia elbowed me. “Over there!” She gave a tiny squeal. “Victor Cruz.”

Sure enough, the Giants wide receiver in jeans and a T-shirt, crossed the set and disappeared down a hallway.

“Oooh-eeee.” Leticia danced several yards after him in a three-two clave rhythm. “I'd salsa with him any day.”

I started back toward Daicen and stopped.

Bliss Adair appeared out of nowhere in a crisp white shirtâgoing French with black lace bra exposed underneathâand a taupe skirt so short it was made for standing only. She sauntered up to my brother, took his face between her hands, and kissed him right on the mouth.

Ergh?

She tipped her head back. “Good morning, darling.”

Well, that happened faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.

“Hello to you, too.” Daicen said, with as much emotion as a slab of concrete.

OMG. He
likes
her!

“I've got a treat for you.” Her lips parted in a smile. “Bruce, the producer, has promised to take you into the control room during the live shoot. A real behind-the-scenes experience. Isn't that delicious?”

“Yes,” he said.

Leticia stayed at a distance, crossed her arms, and gave Bliss a hard once-over. It was clear the auburn-haired beauty had come up lacking.

Bliss waved over a man one sandwich away from emaciation wearing a Band of Outsiders ultra-svelte suit. After a serious ogle at my brother, he asked, “Bliss, who is this cool drink of water?”

“Daicen McGrane,” she answered, slipping her arm through his. He held out his hand.

Bruce took it in a genteel shake. “I hear you're a real up-and-comer.”

My brother cocked a brow at Bliss. “Don't believe a word she says.”

Wow.

“Bliss and Sterling are the gold standard when it comes to locating talent,” Bruce said gallantly. “Come, I'll take you back. Things will start moving around here pretty quickly.”

“I'd like to see Maisie and Leticia settled first, if I may,” Daicen said.

Bliss's teal eyes and pink lips went round in sweet surprise. “That's why I'm here, of course. Hair, wardrobe, and makeup. If you're really that worried, darling, you can check on them in the green room.”

Daicen let Bruce lead him away.

Bliss, all business, took several quick steps on the shiny floor in the opposite direction. She stopped and spun on her heel, fist on hip. “Let's
go
, ladies.”

Leticia trotted to catch up, firing questions at her like an Uzi on full automatic. “When do I meet Alec Anders? An' Juliana Tate? How much time till we on TV? Can I get Cruz's autograph?”

I lagged behind, a pulsing pressure building behind my eyes, and heard Daicen's voice slice across the set, “You know what they say, Bruce. No matter how beautiful she is, some guy somewhere is sick to death of her.”

The producer laughed and clapped his hands. “
Love
it!”

From the way my brother was endearing himself to Bruce, I must be in a lot more trouble than even I thought I was. Something jabbed at the back of my brain as I hurried to catch up with Leticia and Bliss.

Hair and makeup took forty-two minutes with a chatty young man with blue hair named Chazz, whose life's dream was to become the next Alexis Vogel. “Just one more set of false eyelashes and you'll be perfection.”

“Another?” I said. “Chazz, you're making me look better than I ever have before, but can't we tone it down a bit? I mean, it's a little intense for a parking enforcement agent.”

“A what?”

“A meter maid.”

He giggled.

Bliss opened the door and peeked inside. “She looks perfect, Chazz. Absolutely perfect.”

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. On the plus side, I was almost unrecognizable in full
Playboy
Bunny hair and makeup.

Bliss snapped her fingers. “Up, up. Let's go.”

“Where?” But even as I asked, I already knew the answer.

Wardrobe.