Elimination Night - By Anonymous Page 0,47

if you drink enough of that stoopid… kangaroo water, or whatever the hell it’s called. So what a coincidence you’re carrying them around with you, huh? That’s what I think, Bill, since you’ve been thoughtful enough to ask. I think you’ve been selling those pills, making a little money on the side, because they certainly ain’t payin’ you much here. Are you even a real assistant producer? Or are you still filling in for that other guy, the one on life support in Denver? Isn’t that why they call you ‘Bill’—so you can be replaced, if he ever gets over his head injury and comes back to the show? But don’t worry, dear. It’s none of my business how you pay the rent. Your issue. For you alone. Just like my issues are for me to deal with, on my own. Without interference. Are you understanding me yet, Bill? Are you clear with what I think now?”

I felt numb and cold. All I could do was nod.

“Good,” said Bibi. She smiled and gave my arm a little squeeze. “I’m glad you get it.”

Then with a clatter of heels she was gone. Her fingernails, I noticed, had left white marks on my skin.

15

The Moment

I MUST HAVE CALLED Brock ten times when I got home. But he had an all-night shift at the bar of the Hua-Kuwali and wasn’t answering. He probably couldn’t even hear the phone. For the first time since I’d arrived in LA, I felt a shudder of uncertainty about him. Could this really work—one of us in California, the other on a rock in the Pacific, halfway to Japan? Why hadn’t I just gone with him and taken a job as a waitress, as he’d once suggested? Wouldn’t that have been easier? But, no… I had to take Len up on his “dazzling opportunity,” mix with the celebrities, be the hotshot producer, and try to stash away enough money to take an entire year off.

It was beginning to seem like an almost delusional plan—especially given the current status of my Novel of Immense Profundity, which had recently undergone some significant revisions, mostly to the grandfather character’s dialogue. I’d deleted it, basically. So now my manuscript was one sentence long. As for those unresolved plot issues, they remained very much unresolved—I’d finally had an idea about where the Black Lake of Sorrow might be located.

“Hey, it’s me,” I told Brock’s voicemail, sounding croaky as hell. “I know I haven’t been calling you back… I’m sorry. And I know I’ve been bad on e-mail and Facebook and pretty much everything else. It’s just… things are crazy. I’ve had a bad day, babe. I’m not sure I can do this. Call me, okay? Just call me.”

Click.

I wondered if he’d get my message tonight. I had to talk to someone, tell them about Bibi, the whole situation. I mean, what an unbelievable bitch! I didn’t doubt for a second that she could get me fired by saying I’d given pills to Joey—or more likely, relaying the accusation via Teddy. I wondered if anyone at Rabbit would even bother to ask Joey if it was true. Probably not. An addict’s word can never be trusted. And besides, for someone like Ed Rossitto or David Gent—Bibi would definitely go that high, if not all the way to the top—it would be more trouble than it was worth. Better to just fire the stand-in producer (what was her name again?), keep Bibi happy, and forget it ever happened. And Len wouldn’t object. Better me than him. That’s why he’d put me up to this in the first place—just like he’d had me take the fall for Joey’s treatment during The Reveal. The whole thing was crazy, like my worst day at high school squared. I also felt a bizarre kind of shame—as if this were all my fault, as if only a world-class loser could make an enemy of a woman so admired and so powerful.

I debated calling Mitch. He’d understand. He’d tell me what I wanted to hear. But he’d also tell Joey everything, which would be a disaster. That left only one other person whose number I could dial: Mom. But it was past midnight on the East Coast. And she’d worry. Or rather, she’d lecture me about how I should have never gone to “Hollyweird” to begin with, and then she’d start checking in with me every day, asking questions, making me paranoid, getting herself into a state. Which meant calling Mom

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