Annihilate Me 2: Vol. 1 (19 page)

She furrowed her brow at me.
 
“What does that mean?”

I told her what I learned about
Rowe, the dance I coerced him into having with me, and how I threatened him on
the dance floor.

“Close the door,” she said.
 
I shut it behind me.
 
“Rowe has a mistress?”

“I understand her name is Janice
Jones.”

“How fitting—the name of a
true tramp.
 
Who told you this?”

“Tank.”

“How did Tank know any of this?”

“He didn’t know that he did.
 
But when he told me that he was friends
with the head of Rowe’s security, I asked him to ask the man if he had anything
on Rowe.
 
That question was a long
shot—I knew it was when I asked it.
 
But it paid off.
 
Tank came
through yet again.
 
Apparently,
Rowe’s security chief hates his boss, or he never would have spilled what he
knew.”

“I can’t believe this,” Blackwell
said.
 
“Rowe must be quivering at
this point.
 
Well played, my
dear.
 
Nothing short of a pro.”

“Nobody fucks with my husband,” I
said.
 
“At least not as long as I
can help it.”

“Apparently,” she said as she eased
back in her seat.
 
She
steepled
her fingers and looked at me over them with a
clear sense of pride.
 
“And that’s
just another reason your marriage will last.”

She was about to say something more
when a knock came at her door.

“I’m sorry,” I said.
 
“Do you have a meeting?”

She looked at her watch, took a
breath, and fingered her bob away from her face.
 
“Not exactly.
 
My daughters have obviously just
returned from university.
 
That will
be Daniella and Alexa.
 
Would you
like me to put them off so we can talk a bit more?”

“I think I’ve said enough.”

“Then I hope your stomach is
feeling better, my dear, because you know exactly how those two can
be—utter tyrants.”
 
She stood
and smoothed her hands down the length of her chic black suit.
 
“So, gird your loins, girl—and let
me apologize now for all that’s about to come your way.
 
It won’t be pretty.
 
In fact, knowing them, it will be pretty
ugly.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Yes, Margaret?” Blackwell called.

The door opened, and a pretty, thirty-something
woman with blonde hair in a stylish navy blue suit peered into the room.
 
“Your daughters are here, Ms.
Blackwell.”

“Do we really need to be
announced?” I heard one of the girls say.
 
It sounded like Daniella.
 
In
fact, it had to be Daniella—only she would say something like that.
 
“I mean, who are we seeing—the
goddamned queen?
 
Since when do we
need to be announced to mother?”

“Shut up, Daniella.”

So it is Daniella….

“Oh, you only wish you could make
me shut up, Alexa.”

“You know, Daniella, there’s an
herb readily available on the market that would make your tongue grow to the
size of a tire.
 
I know of it.
 
In fact, whenever I see it on shelves, I
think of you.
 
So, be careful when
you drink your coffee tomorrow morning.
 
Or the next morning.
 
Or when
you have something with dinner tonight.
 
All I’d need to do to shut you up would be to slip that herb into a
drink like a
roofie
, and you’d be silent for at least
twenty-four hours.
 
If not
longer.
 
Don’t tempt me.”

“Seriously?
 
You’d slip me a
roofie
?”

“I’d slip you cyanide if I had the
chance.”

“Try it, you eco-friendly tree
hugger, and I’ll bust your boobs—or I would if you had a pair.”

“This from the slut in the push-up
bra because she’s sporting nothing but a pair of flapjacks.”

“And this from the girl who still
hasn’t gotten laid yet.”

“My choice.”

“Is it, Alexa?
 
Really?
 
Is it?
 
Why don’t you just finally come clean
with yourself, and finally go down to lesbo town?”

“I’m not a lesbian.”

“Then why do all of your
girlfriends look more like Jack than Jill?”

“Please.
 
My friends eschew your archaic idea of
femininity.
 
They’re socially
conscious—something you’d know nothing about.”

“Oh, sweetie, when I’m
social—you know, as in when I’m down-on-my-knees social—you can
believe that this one is conscious.”

“You’re grotesque.”

“And you’d prefer to back your ass
up and give up your V-card to a twig, rather than a man.”

“Seriously?
 
A twig?”

“Fine.
 
A stump.
 
You know—for the girth.”

“God, you make me sick.”

“After spending ten hours with you,
I’m ready to hurl.”

“I apologize, Margaret,” Blackwell
said.
 
“If you dare, please show
them in.”

“
Please show them in
,” Daniella
repeated in a sugary sweet voice.
 
“And please ask them to kiss my ring in the process, Margaret.”

“Oh, dear,” I said looking at
Blackwell.

She rolled her eyes at me as if
none of it fazed her.
 
“Girls, come
inside.
 
Jennifer is here.
 
It’s been since Christmas since you’ve
seen each other.”

I turned around in my chair as
Margaret stepped aside so the girls could file in.
 
When they did and Margaret left, I was
struck again by how much they looked alike, probably because their
personalities were so radically different.
 
Even though they dressed differently—Alexa in jeans and a T-shirt,
Daniella in a cute white skirt and pale blue top—physically, they could
have been fraternal twins.
 
Each was
young and lovely, with long black hair that shimmered in the light streaming
through the windows at Blackwell’s back.
 
They were fit, they had their own style, and they had the sort of dark
brown eyes laced with thick brown lashes that I’d kill for.
 
Alexa was twenty-one, and Daniella was
twenty-two.

At least in physical years.

“What’s up, boo?” Daniella said
when she pecked me on the cheek.
 

“Hi, sweetie,” I said.
 
“You look terrific.”

“I’m totes
twerking
it today.”

“Hi, Jennifer,” Alexa said when she
came up behind me and kissed my other cheek.
 
“It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too,
Alexa.
 
It’s been months.
 
Did you two just get in?”

“Like two hours ago,” Daniella
said.
 
She glared at her
mother.
 
“We were expecting a
car.
 
We waited for a car.
 
But when it became clear that one wasn’t
coming, we had to take a cab.”

“How pedestrian of you,” Barbara
said.

“We were expecting a car.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’ve always arranged a
car for us.
 
And since when do we
take cabs?
 
Like, ever?”

“Just because I’ve done something
in the past, doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll do it in the future—especially
since both of you are now adults, and I don’t have to worry about your safety
as much as I did when you were younger.
 
Perhaps next time you’ll call up your father and ask for him to send you
a car.”

“Maybe next time I will.”

“I’d encourage it.
 
As you know, your father does so much to
support both of you at your age.
 
So, please—have at it.
 
Maybe, for once in his life, he’ll cough up some money to get that
private car you need.”

“I’m not even talking with him
now,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because whenever I call, Rita
answers.
 
You know I can’t stand
her.”

“But she’s his new wife.”

“Exactly.
 
And she’s, like, thirty years younger
than he is.
 
She’s nosy.
 
She asks way too many questions.
 
She fucking freaks me out.
 
It’s gross.”

“Don’t say ‘fucking’.”

“Then don’t bring up my father.”

“How is university?” I asked in an
effort to diffuse the tension.

“A bucket of suck,” Daniella
said.
 
“Changing majors was the
worst thing I could have done.
 
I’ve
been in that prison for four years—I could have been out by now.
 
Obvi
.
 
But, oh no—mother thought I should
get a business degree.
 
She thought
I’d be more marketable that way.”

“You will be,” Blackwell said.

“
Whatevs
.
 
You’d think that since my parents went
through with the big ‘D’ that Dad naturally would disagree with her—but
he didn’t!
 
He also thought it was a
good idea for me to drop drama as my major and take up business in an effort to
‘solidify my life.’
 
Now I’m paying
the price for it.”
 

“You are,” Alexa said.
 
“Clearly, drama defines your life, as it
will be going forward.”

“Bitch, I will cut you if you don’t
lay off me.”

“You’ll cut me with what?
 
Your wit?
 
If so, let’s just say that I’m
safe.
 
Talk about a dull blade.”

“Dull blade, my ass.
 
And by the way, have I told you recently
that your tampon makes you look fat?
 
Because it does.”
 
Before
Alexa could respond to that, Daniella stopped and looked quizzically at me.
 
“Jennifer, what’s wrong with you?
 
Ever since we walked into this gilded
pie in the sky, I knew there was something out of whack, but I couldn’t put my
finger on it.
 
Now I can.
 
You look like shit, and you never look
like shit.
 
Damn, girl.
 
You look like you just read ‘Fifty
Shades of Pale.’”

“Let’s just say that it’s been a
rough day, Daniella.”

“To say the least.
 
You look like hell.”

“Daniella,” Blackwell said.

“Settle down, for Christ’s
sake.
 
Jennifer is
gorge—everyone in this room knows that I envy her for her looks and her
booty.
 
Especially her booty.
 
But what the hell is up with her skin
color?
 
She looks as if she’s just
been slapped by Whitey the Clown.
 
All she needs is a bit of the right foundation.
 
I’m surprised that you haven’t hooked
her up with the good shit, mother, especially since you pride yourself on being
the queen of all things chic.
 
Jennifer is one of the last decent people on the planet.
 
She deserves better.
 
And yet you’ve totally
queefed
out on her.”

“I’ve what?”

“You seriously don’t want to know
what that means, Mom,” Alexa said.

“Which means that I do.”

“It’s not important,” Alexa
said.
 
“What is important is out
these windows.”
 

She walked past her mother and
moved toward the wall of windows. “Can I direct your attention to the
smog?
 
Are you so blind to it at
this point that you don’t even notice it?
 
Look at it!
 
It’s only gotten
worse since I’ve been in college.
 
Why aren’t people planting more trees in our parks?
 
Or building more rooftop gardens?
 
Or using more public transport, clean
energy, hybrid cars?
 
Electric
cars!
 
Or their damned feet?
 
I feel sick just being in this
city.
 
It’s like I’m back in
Xingtai
.”

“Zing what?” Daniella said.

“
Xingtai
.
 
It’s in the
Hebai
province of China, not that you’d know of it, you shallow little bitch.
 
I spent a semester there trying to find
ways to combat the pollution problem those poor people face.
 
It’s the most polluted place in the
world.
 
You have to wear a mask just
to breathe there.”

“Then you totes should move there
for good reason.
 
After all, Alexa,
if you wore a mask, the boys might stop offering you cubes of sugar because it
would cover your face, and they’d stop mistaking you for a horse.”

“As if your face is molded from
porcelain.
 
You look more like a
Dalí
than a Da Vinci.”

“Who the hell is
Dalí
?”

Alexa sighed.
 
“I rest my case.”

“Are you two finished?” Blackwell
asked.

“We’ve been at this for hours,”
Daniella said.
 
“Ever since we met
up in L.A. and took the flight here.
 
You know—together.
 
Which was a terrible idea.
 
Oh, and by the way, thank you very much for flying us coach for that seven-hour
flight.
 
I can’t tell you how
comfortable we were.”

“You’re welcome.
 
If you wanted first class, you should
have upgraded with the allowance I give you—and which your father denies
you.”

“To hell with that.
 
Living on that puny stipend is tough
enough.”

“The world owes you nothing,
Daniella—and neither do I.
 
And by the way, do you realize that we haven’t seen each other in five
months?
 
Does that even matter to
you?
 
Why is it that you haven’t
even given your mother a hug since you barreled in here?
 
Do I mean that little to you?”

“So, now I get the guilt
trip.”
 
She jolted a thumb towards
Alexa.
 
“What about this one?
 
What about Little Miss Mother Earth?
 
Does it matter to you that she hasn’t
showered you with sunshine and rose petals either?”

“Let’s deal with you first.
 
Then we’ll get to Alexa.
 
You’re combative for a reason.
 
What’s your problem?”

“Another guy dumped her,” Alexa
said.
 
“It’s become a sorry routine
at this point.
 
The last time was at
Christmas—remember how she was then?
 
Insufferable.
 
She gets dumped,
and we all pay the price for it.
 
It’s always been that way.”