Chore Whore (18 page)

“He is only sworn to uphold the law. I don't think there's anything in there about being a gentleman,” she says while blowing on her tea.

“Where are the gentlemen?” I ask. “I just want to have a partner in life, be a family.”

“Yeah, me too,” Shelly says.

“Well, you're still a spring chicken,” I tease. “Thirty-four's young. You have time. I must be having a midlife crisis. In one day, I quit my job and told the first date I've had in ages to shove off,” I say, shaking my head.

“Now, tell me about quitting your job.”

“That son of a bitch,” I whisper, “accused me of trying to extort money out of him!” I say. “Can you even begin to believe that?”

“How much?” she asks.

“How much? Shelly! I can barely ask for a raise. How the hell could I extort money out of someone?”

“I'm sorry, I was just thinking about your future.”

“I could never do something like that.”

The images of Lucy's lewd pictures in my safe race through my mind. I quickly close the door on them.

“Even after I quit, I still called Grover Lock and Key. I got his locks changed, canceled the painters, called the alarm company and did everything that jerk told me to do.”

“Is he going to pay you for it?” she asks.

“He'll pay,” I say confidently. “I just wonder when he's going to call back,” I say, more to myself than Shelly.

“You don't really think he's going to call back after that conversation, do you?”

“Shell, that's the pathetic part of it. He doesn't have anyone else he can trust. Even if every other word out of his mouth is to tell me off, he can't trust anyone else,” I say, truly feeling empathy for Jock.

“Then why didn't he treat you better to begin with?” Shelly asks solemnly.

“Maybe no one ever treated him better.”

On Monday morning,
I drop the kids off at Envision Prep. Once they've gone into their classroom, I head back to my car. Mr. Davidson, the principal, passes in between cars to catch up with me. I pretend I don't see him.

“Mrs. Brown?” he calls out.

I turn around, feigning surprise. “Good morning, Mr. Davidson.”

“I was hoping I would get to see you this morning. I want to speak with you regarding your son.”

It's only eight-thirty in the morning, so I know it can't be a complaint about something new.

“Yes, what would you like to say?” I say with a formal air.

“We tested Blaise last week and his scores were excellent. He's testing at the eleventh-grade level in science and math. I know he's ten years old, but I think it would behoove him and challenge him if he were placed in a higher grade for those two classes. It would certainly improve his chances of going directly to a University of California campus as a freshman. That's virtually impossible to do these days, but I feel with his scores and him being a minority, he would almost be a shoo-in.”

“Well, Mr. Davidson, I wasn't expecting this. I'll have to talk to Blaise about it and see what he thinks.”

We part and I have my doubts. What if Blaise is blazing through chemistry and trigonometry, but he gets stuck with a problem and I can't help him? I'm terrible at higher math and I'll look like a total loser when my ten-year-old asks me about some complicated problem and I give him a blank stare.

My cell phone rings. “Drew Cheriff here from Three Arts,” she says.

“Hey, how are you?” I ask exuberantly.

“Outstanding, thank you. I'm calling to inform you that we are through with the interviewing process. Jennifer was very impressed with your qualifications.”

“Well, thank you,” I say with adrenaline suddenly pumping through my body.

“Corki, what we'd like to do now is have you come in to talk with Jennifer. It's ultimately up to her, but you were the only applicant we felt comfortable recommending,” she says. “Let's see, Jennifer can be here tomorrow at ten
A.M
. How is that for you?”

“Outstanding!” I say, mimicking her.

I call Lucy as soon as we hang up.

“Lucy, this is Corki.”

“Corki, you think I don't know your voice after all these years?” she asks, laughing.

“I need to meet with you today, in person. This is a true emergency, but it can't be done over the phone,” I state.

“Well, my goodness, Corki, I have a shoot all day. I'm over here in Culver City at Smashbox. I'm doing the cover of Cosmo, can you believe it?” she asks.

“Of course I can believe it,” I say, propping her up as usual. “Then I'll have to come there. I need five minutes tops and I want you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Can you do that, Lucy?”

“Well, of course I can. Come on down and as soon as I can take a break, I'll meet you in my dressing room,” she says, sounding puzzled.

I drive over to Smashbox Studios and am led to the area where a makeup artist and wardrobe stylist are doting over Lucy. She's drinking up the attention. The photographer's lights and props are being given the once-over in preparation for the shoot. On a couch in the corner Bobby Sue sits talking on a cell phone, Lucy's bright orange Hermès appointment book open on her lap. She's obviously scheduling appointments. I think of all my jobs Lucy's given to “the girls” while I've been without work and here is Miss Bobby Sue apparently doing my job again. It takes all I can muster to wait patiently for Lucy to have a free moment.

I know good and well that the reason Lucy's going to be on the cover of a sexy national women's magazine is because of the last film she did in Hawaii, where she was willing to bare her breasts and a hint of her bottom. It was big news that she stated to the press she didn't need a stand-in, that she was more than hot enough to do it herself. The film, as of yet untitled, is scheduled to be prescreened by industry insiders at Paramount on Thursday evening. In the past, Lucy has always had me at her side during these events. This time, Lucy hasn't said a word. I only learned about it from her publicist, who tells me everything.

“Hey, Bobby Sue! What's shaking?” I ask as I approach her. I notice she closes the appointment book and shoves the papers she's working on under the book.

“Oh, you know! Just returning calls for Tommy and Lucy. Personal calls,” she stutters, averting her eyes sideways.

Bless her heart, she's a shitty liar.

“I thought for sure you'd be planning Thursday's screening at Paramount.”

“I don't really know anything about that,” she lies.

“Okay, well, I just thought I'd check in. Get back to your work,” I say with a friendliness that could kill.

“Corki, is there something I can help you with? I know Lucy doesn't want to be bothered,” she asks.

“I need to bother her, but it's nothing concerning you, so don't worry about it. She knows I'm coming.”

Finally Lucy is done and ready to speak to me. She pulls me into her dressing room and closes the door.

“My God, Corki, what's going on? What's the emergency?” she asks, truly concerned.

“Lucy, we've been working together forever and a day, but tomorrow I'm going to be finding out if I have a full-time job with Jennifer Aniston.”

“What!” Lucy screams out. “Oh no, you can't do this to me!”

“Lucy, you're the one doing it to me!” I say softly. “Since those girls have come here, my hours have dropped by over sixty percent. I love working for you, but I have a little boy to take care of. I already told you that I've lost Jock, actually permanently now, and I've lost Daisy completely. I've hardly worked for you at all since Tommy brought in Bobby Sue and Jolene. I'm living on what little savings I have and it's dwindling fast,” I say as I try not to get emotional. “Lucy, I won't have any hard feelings if you decide to go with these other two girls, because I know they can do things for you that I won't be able to.”

I wonder if she picked up my innuendo there.

Lucy bursts out crying hysterically. I can't tell if this is part of an Academy Award–winning performance or if she's really upset.

“Cor-keeee. You're my family and you're here telling me we're about to get a divorce? You know I have such terrible abandonment issues. God, don't do this to me. What about me? Who's going to take care of me? I can't afford years more of therapy if you leave.” She grabs me and hugs me tightly.

“Lucy, I need something concrete. My job has been usurped by Thing One and Thing Two. They just show up one day and suddenly they're the flavors of the week.”

Lucy stops sobbing and just cries big tears.

“Corki, they're not going to last. Bobby Sue has already fucked up our reservations to Sundance so badly we may have to drive there. And right now she's out there trying to repair the problems she's made for our screening on Thursday. She's plain lazy and the other one, well . . . my mama's screaming at me to get her to leave. My mom thinks she's trying to steal my Tommy away.” At the thought, Lucy bursts into tears again.

“Lucy, hello! She's all over him. You all may be fucking each other, but she's obviously out for more than a screw. Open your eyes!”

“I'm begging you, begging you not to leave me. I need you so badly. You're the only one I trust to get me through this, please! I need someone strong when I feel so weak with him. I promise you from the bottom of my heart, I will pay you if he doesn't fulfill his end of it,” she says as she collapses into my arms weeping uncontrollably.

I pull Lucy away from me and hold her head so she stares me directly in the eyes. I speak slowly with my voice calm and controlled.

“Lucy, I don't want any more empty promises. I have a ten-year-old boy depending on me to keep him alive with a roof over his head. This is L.A. My rent is $2,200 a month. My car payment and insurance is another $850. Medical insurance premiums are $800 and that's with a $2,500 deductible. That's almost $4,000 per month to keep my little household afloat, without luxuries like food, broken arms and birthday parties. I need you to understand that I cannot make it on less than $4,000 dollars a month and those are for bare necessities. You live on $32,000 a month and complain it's not enough. Can you fathom living on an eighth of what you spend? The job with Jennifer would provide a steady income plus medical and dental insurance. If I get the job, do I take it or do I stay with you?”

Lucy lets out a piercing scream and collapses to the ground, wrinkling the skimpy dress she is wearing. She wraps her long, gangly arms around her head and neck, thus ruining her perfectly coiffed hair as well.

The door bursts open and in flies the photographer, art director, hair stylist, makeup artist, wardrobe stylist and Bobby Sue Hunsucker. They all stare at me as if I threw her to the ground and made her scream. Bobby Sue rushes to Lucy's side and helps her up. When the makeup artist sees Lucy's face, she screams as loud as Lucy did. Bobby Sue looks at me with hate in her eyes.

“What the hell did you do to her?” she asks.

“Bobby Sue, don't you ever, ever look me in the eye and lie to me again or I'm liable to punch you in the mouth, and I'm not a violent woman,” I say vehemently. “Lucy, I need an answer right now at this moment or I'm walking out and getting on with my life.”

The makeup artist is screaming and the wardrobe stylist is trying to repair Lucy back to perfection.

How did I have the gall to demand an answer? All I'll have left if she says “leave” is a chance, not even a promise, with Jennifer; $500 in savings; and my measly $200-per-week paycheck, if I'm lucky, from Liam and Esther.

“Everyone leave, please,” Lucy whispers. She sounds so desperate and somber, everyone backs out of the room except Bobby Sue and me. “Especially you,” she says to Bobby Sue. Bobby Sue, looking crushed, leaves and closes the door behind her. In the shadows under the door, I can see all of their feet pressed close so they can listen in. Lucy pulls my face close to hers.

“Choose me, Corki. Please. I promise I'll pay you whatever you need, but I can't be abandoned again. You and my mama, my grandma and my daddy are the only consistencies in my life. I'll treat you better, I promise. We're going to be moving soon and you're the only one who can do this right. Tommy Ray wouldn't know how to do it. He lives out of a suitcase, from hotel to hotel. He's brilliant, but he needs me to show him how to be a man again. All his other women have emasculated my baby,” she continues.

“Stop, Lucy. You're getting off the subject. I don't care about your relationship with him. Well, I mean I care, but right now I'm talking sheer survival. This time it's not about what you need. It's about what I need. I've been fulfilling your needs for decades.”

“I'm here for you, babe. I promise that you can depend on me. Choose me and I swear on my life you won't be sorry,” she whispers lovingly. “We're family. Family means more to me than anything.”

There's a knock on the door and someone yells from behind it. “We really gotta get a move on here. There's another shoot coming in to set up in two hours. We gotta hustle. You ready in there?”

“I'm ready!” Lucy calls out with a sudden flash of confidence. Control has been restored. She straightens her dress and fluffs her hair as if that fixes all she's torn apart. The fix-up crew and Bobby Sue descend to repair the mess and Lucy's image.

I start to leave quietly.

“Corki, angel!” Lucy calls out, stopping me in my tracks. “Would you take the car in for a wash while I finish up here? And there's a script that needs to be picked up at CAA. Maybe you could pick it up and leave it for me in the car?” The sweetness of her voice is as refreshing as chilled mint juleps on a hot Kentucky afternoon.

“But, Lucy, I thought I was—” Bobby Sue interrupts.

“Shut up!” Lucy retorts with poison.

I sit at
the Santa Palm car wash, off to the side where they do hand washes for a mere $22.95. The man sitting next to me keeps eyeing me up and down, then staring at the Ferrari. If any more sleaze dripped off him he'd need to carry a mop. As I start to punch a number into my cell phone, he approaches me.

“Hey, lady,” he says in a heavy accent, “you are very pretty.”

I snap my phone closed and stare him in the eye for too long. “Save it, mister. The car's not mine. It belongs to the guy I work for.”

“Bitch,” he mutters as he walks away.

I leave my seat and walk over to the fence bordering the car wash. It is covered with blooming jasmine. I close my eyes and wonder if my fierce loyalty is an ego problem or a positive characteristic. I'm not the captain of Lucy's ship. I don't have to go down with it.

I toss around that I've never really pursued another relationship because I still feel loyalty to the man I was married to for three days, Basil Brown. Though I cope with uncertainties daily, I have problems with change. I don't like it, plain and simple. I've heard Jennifer is as lovely as can be and her husband, Brad, is a good man. But what if we just don't mesh and the only thing I have for sure is gone? I open my phone again and make the call.