What Pretty Girls Are Made Of (16 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Flammable

T
he city was preparing for a snowstorm—a good ol’ early March snowstorm, where you’re willing it to be spring but Mother Nature turns the city icy-white, reminding you it’s not. The weather was supposed to get treacherously bad around 10 p.m., with heavy snow continuing throughout the next day. I was stoked at the possibility of a good snowstorm. I had heard that Sally rarely honored snow days. Even when schools were closed, she kept the store open. As if women wanted to suit up and trek outside to have their makeup done in a blizzard.

“Okay, how should we do this tomorrow?” Jennifer asked me. “I’m happy to suck it up and come in so the artists don’t have to travel—we can cancel the makeup appointments if we have to and just focus on selling products. Since you live close, will you come in with me? We can have a fun day, just the two of us.”

“Yes, of course. I’m in. It will be quiet in here so we can get work done and play. We just have to make sure we have shovels, salt, and snow stuff all set before we leave tonight.”

“Yes, I’ll take care of that. I’m having the girls update the phone list so there’s no confusion if the store is closed.”

“Sounds perfect,” I said. Jennifer and I also had the brilliant idea to download the last two episodes of
Girls
onto the computer linked to the huge monitor at the front of the store. We would order in, drink hot chocolate, and watch our guilty pleasure.

After work that night, I planned on having dinner with my mom, since she had been in the city during the day. I would then head back to my apartment and pray for a snow day. I felt like a child in elementary school, guilty with anticipation.

We finished dinner at about 9:45 p.m., just as it was starting to flurry lightly outside. My mother offered to drop me off at my apartment on her way back to Long Island. She didn’t want to leave Manhattan too late in light of the forecasted snow.

We drove down Broadway, past the studio. As I turned my head to glance inside—like passing a car accident; I couldn’t help but look—something caught my eye in one of the two large storefront windows. The metal gate was up. That wasn’t right. The gate was always securely lowered and locked at the end of the business day. I had never heard of any staff member forgetting to shut the gate. The main lights in the shop were off and the only noticeable brightness shining out of the studio was Sally’s demo reel being looped on the big-screen television above the cash register. But there seemed to be a form moving around the counter, too. Did I see that correctly?

“Oh my God!” I blurted out. “Mom! There’s someone in the studio!”

“What?” she said, shocked at my outburst.

“Something’s not right. The gate is up. I see someone in the studio. You have to drive around the block and come back down so we can make sure that everything is okay. I know I saw someone in there.”

“Okay, Alison,” she said with a laugh. “Always an adventure with you.”

Just a few weeks before, there had been a robbery and shooting a few blocks away at a high-end jewelry boutique. A man had ambushed the owner of the jewelry store, stolen handfuls of diamonds, and shot and killed the owner before running away. It caused a huge media scene.

Perhaps the jewel thief wanted some makeup to wear with his new gems.

As my mom executed a careful U-turn at the end of the block, we were giddy with excitement and only slightly frightened. Was this how ambulance chasers felt? We drove past the front of the studio again, this time on the same side of the street as the store. I wanted to get a good look. My mistake. There wasn’t one man behind the register—there were four. Each of them was wearing a winter coat, and I didn’t recognize any of their faces.

“I see four men in there,” my mom said as she scrutinized the situation. I could see the
What is going on, Alison?
all over her face. “Do you recognize any of them?”

“No,” I replied, stunned.

I didn’t know what to do. Should we drive away or should I get involved? Call the police? That was the obvious choice, but I didn’t want to be hasty in case work (or something!) was happening that I didn’t know about. Shit.
How can I not do something? What choice do I have? Sally is
away at QVC. What could she do from miles away?
My mind was racing.

Maybe I would get the twenty-thousand-dollar bounty that was posted on signs all over the Upper West Side for finding the jewel thief. Our car out of sight of the studio windows, I dialed Jennifer. It was ten o’clock.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said.

“What’s going on, cookie? Everything okay?”

“Not sure, actually. Did you or Sally have anyone scheduled to do some work in the studio tonight? Is anyone supposed to be fixing something, or working?”

I was hoping she would say yes. “No, why?” she asked.

“Because one of the gates was left open. I just drove past the store. And there are four men who I don’t recognize standing by the register.”

“Oh, shit. No one told me anything about having people in the studio tonight. And they always let me know about that stuff or check with me to make sure we don’t have an event in the evening. Are you sure you saw what you think you saw?”

“I’m absolutely sure, because I’m in the car with my mom now, outside the shop.”

“Oliver and I are on our way. And I’m calling the police.”

My mom and I waited on the other side of the street. The thumping in my chest was invigorating. In just under six minutes, Jennifer and Oliver, her boyfriend, pulled up in a cab and boldly (or crazily) bolted into the studio.

“I’m going in!” I announced.

“You absolutely are not,” replied my mother as she locked the car doors. “Are you out of your mind? I will not let you do something crazy like that.”

She had a point.

By now, I assumed that we weren’t going to have work the next day for one of two reasons: blizzard or robbery. Which one I preferred was a toss-up.

I watched as Jennifer and Oliver talked with the four men. There were lots of hand gestures. After about a minute of watching from the safety of our car, I unlocked my door and headed over, despite my mom’s protests. I had no idea what the situation was, but I could see that my friends weren’t in danger.

What the hell is happening?

I jogged across the street, careful not to slip on the slick road. I opened the studio door and everyone turned to look at me.

“What’s going on in here?”

“Well,” Jennifer said, fanning out her arms in a position of frustration. “Tell her,” she said to the two men standing in front of us.

“We’re from ACE Security. We’re installing a video surveillance system.”

“At ten o’clock at night? And no one told the store manager about it?” Jennifer asked in disbelief.

“Does Ira know about this?” I asked the team of men, who had stopped what they were doing.

“Yeah, he’s in the back,” one of the men replied.

Jennifer and I didn’t say a word to each other, but did the same thing. We bolted for the back office. Sure enough, sitting in Sally’s black leather chair, amid all the lipstick paraphernalia and cosmetic tchotchkes, was Ira. Across the desk from him was a man in a black suit. Ira’s face opened wide, his brows arched in surprise. He was busted.

“What are you doing here?” Ira asked us.

“What are
you
doing here?” Jennifer shouted. “And why did no one tell me that work was being done in the studio tonight?”

Unable to hold my tongue any longer, I jumped in. “We thought the studio was being robbed!”

“What would anyone want from here?” was Ira’s reply. “Makeup?”

“Who knows? I don’t know! There was a shooting three blocks from here a few weeks ago.” I clenched my hands and shook my head.

“Can someone please explain why no one told me or anyone on the staff about this?” Jennifer spat as she slammed her palm onto the desk. “I manage the store. Most of us live in the area, so it’s not like this wouldn’t have been found out.”

“Sally didn’t want anyone to know about the installation . . .”

“Of security cameras,” I said, finishing his sentence. He shrugged in reply. “Are these digital? Can she watch from home? Is it even legal to install a security system without telling those who are being watched?” I asked the man in the suit.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “She will have access and can log in and watch from anywhere.”

Were she not at QVC right now, her view on-screen would be my manicured middle finger.

“Well, that’s just great,” Jennifer replied, looking straight at Ira. “This place is unbelievable!” Her voice got louder with each word. “Sally tells me, not two days ago, that I’m the only one she really trusts with her store. The only one she feels comfortable with running the show here. The only one she can depend on in order to feel good about the studio business. So was that bullshit? Because now, I’m here with Alison, and you’re secretly installing a security system so that Sally can tape us and watch from home. Were you going to tell us about this, or just let us go about our business and not know that we were being filmed? Surprise! We found you out.”

Jennifer’s agitation, anger, and frustration overwhelmed her. “I’m going home.”

She walked out and we all followed her, our mouths open. I was beaming with pride inside. When she got to the door, she turned back to face the room.

“You know what kills me? Aside from the horror of being taped every day without knowing it? I heard that Sally didn’t even give her staff bonuses last year because she said she couldn’t afford it. She takes taxis to the studio when she doesn’t drive there and has me take money out of the register to pay for them. She holds sidewalk sales for cash and she pockets it. She doesn’t even report it on the daily tally. She makes the girls pay full price for cosmetics when they want to buy them, but she makes them pay for them in cash. To her. Directly. How much did this state-of-the-art digital remote security system cost? Ten thousand dollars? Thirty thousand? Fifty?”

Just then flashing lights blinded us as four police cars pulled up to the scene. I could see my mom get out of her car and come to the door with them. I’m sure she felt much safer now that the cops had arrived. I couldn’t wait to tell her what had just happened.

But I was blinded by a flashlight in my face as Jennifer opened the door.

“We got a call about this location. Is everything all right?”

“Sorry, officer,” Jennifer responded. “There was a misunderstanding. I’m the manager of the store and the owner was having work done and didn’t tell me about it. We got scared, especially after the recent shooting.”

We couldn’t tell who, but we heard one of the officers laugh and say, “Well, that’s just typical.” Eager to get out of the impending blizzard, they left us to close up on our own.

The snow was now cascading in white sheets. My mom approached in time to hear Jennifer lay into Ira again.

“You know something, Ira?” Jennifer exclaimed. “I’m disgusted with Sally and this company. I actually cared enough to get off my ass and put on my boots and fur coat in this awful weather to save this store from being robbed. Alison did the same. Yet Sally can’t even tell me that work is being done. Where’s the trust?”

Jennifer started rummaging through her purse. She took out her key ring and thrust it forward. “I’m done here. That’s it. Sally can find someone else who cares as much as I do to run her store and be secretly videotaped.”

Jennifer twisted the key to the studio off her key ring and put it on the center console where the registers sat, unharmed. It made a clacking sound, like a nail hitting marble.

We were all still.

“Please reconsider, Jennifer.” Ira broke the silence. “I know you were surprised, but this wasn’t about you. I’m sorry. Sally is out of town at QVC and I’m sure she wanted to tell you. She probably just forgot.”

“You can tell Sally that she can secretly watch someone else run her store. Because I’ve had enough. I have worked in this industry for years, and this place is crazy. I’m done.” She paused, still in thought. “Done with the rigmarole, done with the aggravation, and done with the disrespect. She needed me way more than I need any of that.”

With that, Jennifer, Oliver, my mom, and I walked out. And the four men, we assumed, went back to work.

We walked to the corner, the street quiet, the snow silently falling. The calm outside felt overwhelming after the excitement that we just endured.

“I just quit! Holy crap!” Even Jennifer was in shock. “I’ve never just up and quit a job before!”

I hugged her, and my mom did, too, so proud of Jennifer. I badly wanted that to be me.

We parted ways, all of us having had enough drama for the night. Jennifer said she would give me a ring if Sally called her, which we were sure would happen. I was going to miss my buddy, whom I had grown so close to in our short time together. We had endured the same dysfunctional environment. Together. I really hoped that tomorrow would be a snow day. It would be no fun sitting in the studio by myself watching
Girls
on the big screen.