Annihilate Me 2: Vol. 1 (6 page)

“You already know how I feel about
that.”

“Good.”
 
She ran her fingers through her
bob.
 
“I’m going to offer you a
piece of advice that I want you to carry with you straight through to the end
of the night.
 
Reclaim that spark
that people have come to love about you.
 
Regardless of what you’re feeling inside, you must retain a lightness of
heart—especially tonight.
 
You
need to be the Jennifer that people have come to love and adore.”

“And how do you propose I get back
to that place?”

Our car started to slow as Cutter
pulled the vehicle to the right, where he stopped just outside Barneys, which was
only a few blocks away from our apartment.

Blackwell reached inside her
handbag and removed her phone.
 
I
watched her type out a text and send it.
 
“My dear,” she said.
 
“You
obviously do it by shopping with me.”
 
She lowered her voice.
 
“You
know how I can be when we shop together—a horror show of
dissatisfaction.
 
So, you know,
let’s go inside and cause some trouble—and see how that lifts your mood.”

CHAPTER SIX

Before leaving the limousine,
Blackwell turned into the Blackwell whom I knew and loved, but whom many
feared.
 
She pulled a compact from
her handbag, checked her face, and snapped it shut without changing a
thing.
 

“Bernie,” she said.
 
“How well he instructs.
 
Shall we?”

Cutter stepped out of the car and
came around and opened Blackwell’s door.
 
She pinched his cheek as she stepped out onto the sidewalk, and I
followed behind her as she practically glided toward Barneys entrance, the
glass doors of which opened to us as we approached.
 

Inside, a woman somewhere in her
mid-forties was ready to greet us.
 
With her blonde hair wrapped behind her head in a crisp ponytail, and
her impeccable white suit accentuating a slim figure, I thought that she was beautiful.

“Chloe,” Blackwell said as the two
women kissed each other on both cheeks.
 
“It’s been so long—in fact, I think it was yesterday.
 
Thank you for accommodating us.”

“It’s our pleasure, Barbara.”

“I can always count on you.
 
To have this place to our own is
critical, particularly given the situation at hand.
 
You can’t imagine the importance.
 
Or the pressure.
 
It’s all too much, but I know that being
here will be the balm that we need.
 
So, thank you again.”

Chloe didn’t respond.
 
Instead, she turned to me.

“You must be Mrs. Wenn?” she said.

“Please call me Jennifer.”

The woman extended her hand, and I
shook it.
 
“It’s so nice to finally
meet you, Jennifer.
 
And I’m pleased
that we can assist you today.
 
Barbara and I spoke earlier this morning, and we had a meeting of the
minds.
 
If you’ll follow me, I’ll
take you to a private dressing area to show you the dress we both think will be
perfect for you to wear tonight.
 
It’s
something that will set you apart from the rest, if only because it’s not
available to anyone else—it just came in.
 
If it doesn’t suit you, I have selected
several others for you to consider.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve disrupted your
schedule,” I said.

“You haven’t at all.
 
None of this is uncommon.
 
It’s just a service we provide to our
best clients.
 
Naturally, you are
one of them.”

We took an elevator to the third
floor, which was labeled Women: Designer Evening Wear.
 
When we stepped out of the elevator,
Blackwell immediately stopped.

“What’s that that I hear?” she
asked Chloe.

The woman kept her expression
neutral.
 
“Unfortunately, you and
Jennifer aren’t the only ones here this morning.”

“But how can that be?”

“Other clients with white-gloved
service also expressed an interest in coming early.”

“But I thought it would only be
us.”

“Only five clients are in the
building,” Chloe assured us.
 
“Including you and Jennifer.”

Blackwell took off her dark glasses
and met Chloe’s eyes with her own.
 
“May I ask who else is here?”

But Chloe motioned ahead of
us.
 
“I promise you that whatever
they want is nothing that could possibly fit Jennifer.
 
Please come this way.
 
You might even know each other.”

“Which would only be worse for us,
Chloe.
 
Things could get
awkward.
 
Have you even considered
that?”
 
She looked toward the ceiling
and rolled her eyes.
 
“I’m not
pleased,” she called out.
 
“I’m
thinking evacuation.
 
I’m thinking
Bergdorf.
 
I’m having second
thoughts about all of this.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended
you.
 
You could always come back in
an hour.
 
I’m sure they’ll be gone
by then.”

And Blackwell stopped dead in her
tracks.

“Excuse me?” she said.
 
“You’re asking
us
to leave?
 
Oh, my dear.
 
If you are, that better be the goddamned
Queen of England I’m hearing over there.
 
Nobody asks me to leave—and they sure as hell don’t ask Jennifer
Wenn, of all people, to leave.”

The woman started to look
flustered, and I felt sorry for her.
 
Why was this such a big deal to Blackwell?
 
It was as if she was marking her
territory—and then I realized that at her level, her territory meant
everything to her.
 
She was indeed
protecting it.

“I can keep you all apart,” Chloe
said.
 
“We’ll just go to the
dressing room I have ready for you.
 
There’s no need for your paths to cross.
 
Please accept my apology and follow
me.
 
The dress I have in mind for
you is just over here.
 
It’s the
Oscar de la
Renta
that we discussed.
 
And with him having just passed
yesterday, it’s a find for many reasons.
 
It truly is fantastic—I’d hate for you to leave without at least
having a look at it, and perhaps even trying it on.”

“I’ll bet you would,” Blackwell
said.
 
“But fine.
 
We’ll look at it.
 
But if this ever happens again,
Chloe—”

Her voice trailed off when, off to
our left, came the familiar, melodic sounds of a woman’s voice.
 
I tried to place it, but I
couldn’t.
 
And so I just listened to
it along with Blackwell, whose head had just turned sharply in its direction.

“
Looka
how
thees
feet my
teets
,
Mama Guadalupe,” I heard a woman with a heavy Mexican accent say.
 
“Sure, it need to be taken out at the
boobies and hauled in at the back, but what else is new?
 
Ever since
Chuckie
had me go under the knife to turn the girls into a couple of over-stuffed piñatas,
everything I wear need to be fitted
.
 
Still, look at how the dress move.
 
Look at how it flow.
 
It beautiful.
 
You like?
 
No?
 
Why you no like?
 
It cost
thirty grand, for Christ’s sake.
 
Why you always look so
peesed
off?
 
You living the high life now.”

“In a maid’s uniform,” another
voice said.
 
“And in a tween bed.”

“That’s right.
 
And you should be grateful for
it—I give you work.
 
I feed
you.
 
I pay you salary.
 
I bring you to places like
thees
.
 
Oh,
Heyzeus
Cristo
, stop picking at your
mole!
 
I swear to God I’m gonna have
that mother lanced.
 
Look at
me.
 
Eyes right here.
 
On the dress.
 
Snap out of it.
 
Tell me how I look?”

“
Te
ves
como
una
perra
.”

“You think I look like slut?”

“
Sí
.
Tu
padre
estaría
avergonzado
.”

“My
Papi
,
God rest his soul, would never be ashamed of me.
 
Epifania
worth
five-hundred million.
 
Don’ forget
that, cookie.
 
She no slut.”

“If he saw what you become, he faint.
 
That dress fit you tighter than the skin
on a blood sausage.”

“Aye
yai
yai
!
 
Why you so
crazy like that?
 
What wrong with
you?”

“
Mi
hisa
look like whore.”

“Whore?
 
Epifania
got
style.
 
Epifania
know what she got.
 
Epifania
a star.
 
And by the way,
Epifania
not the one who wash
up on shore in an inner tube wearing nothing but a banana leaf and a couple of
coconuts.
 
That be you, lady.”

Bewildered, Blackwell looked at me
and then turned to Chloe, who had dropped the façade and was now looking
horrified.

“What the hell is that?” Blackwell
said.

“
Epifania
Zapopa
and her mother, Guadalupe,” Chloe said.

“Guadalupe?
 
Where the hell am I?
 
San Miguel?
 
Or better yet, San Quentin?”

“I’m so sorry.
 
I had no idea they’d be this vulgar.”

“Tell me, Chloe, why did you let
Epifania
in here when you knew that I was coming here with
Jennifer Wenn to shop?
 
How did that
even make sense to you?”

“She’s one of our best customers,
Ms. Blackwell.”

“Not like me, she isn’t.
 
Never like me.
 
People call her the loose cannon of Park
Avenue—did you even know that?”

“I didn’t.”

“Having heard her just now, does
that even sound like a stretch to you?”

“Not after hearing that it
doesn’t.”

“Then where is your judgment?
 
I’ve given this dump hundreds of
thousands of dollars over the years—both personally and through
Wenn.
 
Likely more through
Wenn.
 
This is outrageous.
 
Get rid of all of them.”

“
Epifania
hear the people talking!” her sing-song voice rang out.

“Oh, Jesus,” Blackwell said.
 
“She’s heard us.”

“Of course
Epifania
hear—this joint is as dead as my husband,
Chuckie
.
 
But who she hear?
 
That the question.
 
Who want to see
Epifania
in her maybe new dress?”

And that’s all it
took—Blackwell lifted her chin, and her eyes narrowed like a wolf closing
in for the kill.
 
“I’d love to see
you in your
maybe
new dress,
Epifania
.
 
Why don’t you come out, and I’ll give
you my honest opinion of it?”

“Who that?
 
Why I know that voice?”

“It’s Barbara Blackwell.”

“Oh, sheet,”
Epifania
said in a hushed voice.
 
“It’s that
crazy lady
beetch
Blackwell, Mama Guadalupe.
 
The one I told you about once.
 
You know, when you were still living in
el
barrio
?
 
When booze and beans
were your best friends,
and everything was going bottom’s up for you?”

“Shall we come to you?” Blackwell
called.

And then came another voice—a
familiar voice.
 
A refined voice.

“
Epifania
,
who are you speaking with?” a woman asked.

“It’s the Blackwell,”
Epifania
said.
 
“The wicked witch is here.”

“Barbara Blackwell?
 
Well isn’t that interesting.
 
Who is she here with?”

“I don’ know.”

“I bet I do.”

I looked at Blackwell, then at
Chloe.
 
“Who is that?” I asked.

“Immaculata
Almendarez
.”

My eyes widened.
 
“Immaculata is here?”

“She came with
Epifania
and her mother, Guadalupe.
 
She and
Epifania
are friends.”

“I need to go,” I said to Blackwell.
 
“While I’d love nothing more than to
smack that bitch down again, there’s no way I’m up for Immaculata right now.
 
Not after how I I’ve been feeling lately.”

But before Blackwell could respond,
Immaculata swung around the corner so she was facing us.
 
She smiled, tossed back her long, dark
hair, and started to come toward us in a gorgeous, sapphire-blue evening dress
that I had to admit was to die for.