Resist (Songs of Submission #6)(18)

Bored, I checked my email from the phone. I hadn’t set up digital roaming while out of the country, and then the phone died, and the fact was, email wasn’t my thing. Most of my social interactions were local and done with a phone call or text.

But that couldn’t be said for everyone. I’d given Harry Enrich my information after the B.C. Mod show, and shockingly, he’d used it, sending me a personal note early Friday.

Ms. Faulkner,

It was a pleasure to hear your work tonight. I understand Eddie Milpas has been working to sign you on with us. Why don’t you come by our offices Tuesday to discuss further?

Best,

Harry

PS – Do you have representation?

Eddie had been working to sign me? Sounded like he was trying to put a collar on my neck and shackle me to a display case, but who was I to question?

My phone rang while it was still in my hand. I didn’t usually answer numbers I didn’t recognize, but the green button was a reflex, and I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hello.” The voice was female and tight as a drum. Pleasant, but not effusive. Welcoming, but not warm. “This is Jessica Carnes. Am I speaking with Monica?”

“Yes.” I sat on the piano bench, willing myself not to shake. All of Jonathan’s warnings and the events of my two prior meetings with Jessica blew out my nerves. I had to remind myself to channel him, his utter dedication to self-management no matter his feelings.

“How are you?” she asked.

I had no answer prepared. No story to tell to get what I wanted. “I’m fine. You?”

“Very well, thank you,” she said. I didn’t think I had another nicety left in me, and she saved me from having to come up with another. “You left me a message?”

Oh, she was going to make me ask. She wasn’t giving me an inch or admitting she had made first contact at Frontage. She wasn’t going to admit she’d shown up at my job at whatever o’clock in the morning. “I thought I’d take you up on that offer to meet.”

“Things have gotten a little more complicated since we spoke last.”

“Yes...I...I guess you’re right. I thought you came to see me last night. Never mind.”

After saying that, I felt a sense of relief. I was avoiding immediate repercussions from seeing Jessica, and it wasn’t even my fault. Coward. Yes, that was the craven woman. I wasn’t her any more. But I couldn’t push Jessica. If she wanted to wiggle out she would, no matter what.

“If you feel differently at some point, I would like to meet. We can do it under your terms and talk about whatever you like,” I said.

“Why the change of heart?”

“Things got more complicated, like you said. I feel like I can’t see the whole picture.” That was probably too specific and would leave me little room to flip my story around if I needed, but that was it. I said it, and it was very close to the truth.

“Can you get to Venice in the morning?”

“Yes.” A lump rose in my throat. I was doing it. I was going directly against Jonathan’s wishes. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t trying to hurt him. I was trying to help him.

“I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I had nothing else to say, so I hung up.

I’d started an evil thing and had to go through with it because I wouldn’t stand by and watch him get run over. Maybe I was going out on a limb, and maybe I’d make it worse, but how could I sit still while someone was trying to hurt him?

“Fuck,” I whispered. My car was at the Stock.

Chapter 17.

MONICA

A black Corvette pulled up in front of the house, taking the downhill nice and slow. Robert cared about his ride the way most people cared about living things. I skipped down the porch and met him at the curb.

“Thanks,” I said, getting in. I was more or less on the way from the valley, but it was still an inconvenience for him.

“Fucking hill, man.” He put the car in gear and inched downward.

“When I was a kid, I rode my bike down it, no hands.”

“Bet you did.” He paused briefly. “So, car’s at work, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You went home with the guy from Hotel K? Sam and Debbie’s friend?”

“You got a problem with it?”

“Naw, man. Just curious what his deal is.”

I didn’t know what he meant, and I didn’t want to know what he meant, either. I just wanted to get my car. I didn’t want to hear about anything Robert might have seen or heard. Nothing. Not a word.

We sat in silence down Temple, to Hill, around the block a few times or ten until we stopped at a light a block from the hotel. It was the same light Jonathan had stopped at when he met me after work and told me he’d always love his ex-wife.

“What did you think his deal was?” I asked.

Robert snapped out of some sort of reverie. “Huh? Who?”

“Jonathan, the guy from Hotel K?”

“Shit, I don’t know. He was there that time you couldn’t talk, then gone, then....coupla weeks, he was in the corner yacking with Debbie and Sam all the time. But not when you were there. Shows up last night, you’re there. I dunno. Just asking.”

“Asking what?”