Annihilate Me (Vol. 4) (The Annihilate Me Series) (26 page)

And
he was processing all of it.

If
nothing good came from the party and those who were threatening us continued to
walk free, I fully believed that by tomorrow morning, Alex would leave me in an
effort to make certain that I was safe.
 
There was nothing I could do about that.
 
If that’s what he chose to do, I’d have
no choice but to leave the man I loved, and it made me sick.

When
I was a child and my father was abusing me, there was a place into which I’d
retreat to keep myself away from the pain he induced.
 
I used to think of it as my iron-clad
box, which was buried so deep within my heart that no one could get near
it.
 
That’s where I’d escape to
protect myself from all that was wrong with my father, all that was wrong with
my mother for allowing the abuse to happen, and all that was happening to me
without shelter.
 
I’d tuck my soul
inside that box, and I’d shut down while hell unleashed itself upon me.

That’s
where I placed myself now.
 

Without
knowing what Alex was thinking, I was running on autopilot and holding a steady
course thanks to that box.
 
Later,
when and if Alex said that he was going to leave me, I would be prepared for it
because at my core, I was a survivor.
 

Each
of us has our own ways to protect ourselves.
 
This was mine.
 
I’d placed myself inside my box too many
times to count, and each time, through the worst of times, I’d found solace
within it despite the pain that was being inflicted upon me.

*
 
*
 
*

At
six-thirty, Blackwell and I went into the empty conference room that long had
been my mock dressing room at Wenn.
 
Bernie was there waiting for us.
 
He had everything set up and since he didn’t know what had happened
earlier that day, he was his usual buoyant self.
 
He met me with a warm embrace and a kiss
on each cheek.
 
And the playactor
that I’d been for so many years as a child, when I was in school and trying to
hide the fact that I was being beaten at home, emerged when I smiled back at
him and hugged him.

“You
look fabulous,” he said.

I
fell into character and winked at him.
 
“I think I’ll look extra fabulous after you’ve worked on me.”

“What’s
this puffiness around your eyes?”

“Just
allergies.
 
And, please, check out
my red nose.
 
Ugh—I can’t get
rid of them no matter what I take.
 
It’s awful this season.”

“I
have just the magic to take care of that.”

“You
have the magic to fix anything, Bernie.
 
Don’t you agree, Barbara?”

She
stood next to me while I sat in the chair facing the large mirror in front of
me.
 
I glanced at her in the glass,
and our eyes met.
 
She knew what I
was doing, and she also fell into character.

“Of
course I do.
 
Look what he’s done
with you in the past—from pure ruin to beauty.
 
All with a few clever brush strokes.”

She
might have fallen into character, but the conviction wasn’t in her voice.
 
I looked at Bernie in the mirror.
 
“With these allergies, I might need a
few additional brush strokes.”

“That
we can do,” he said.

And
then he began to turn me into the Jennifer tonight’s crowd had come to know.

*
 
*
 
*

When
he was finished, he stepped away from me with his arms held out at his sides.
 
He studied my face and hair before
saying, “Voila.”

“Voila,
indeed,” I said, looking at my reflection in the mirror.
 
I didn’t look at all like myself.
 
My skin was bright and flawless.
 
He usually used a flat iron on my hair,
but this time he didn’t.
 
This time
he let my hair tumble down my back in thick, carefully constructed waves that
shimmered with the help of whatever products he’d used.
 
“I don’t know how you do it, but I’m
glad that you can do it.
 
I sure as
hell couldn’t.”

“You’re
a beautiful girl, Jennifer.”

“With
your help, I can pass as one.
 
And
not to mention with Barbara’s help.”
 
I turned to look at her, and the secret between us remained unspoken.
 
Just keep up the illusion
was the
undercurrent.
 
And she did.
 
“So, I’m dying to see it,” I said to
her.
 
“You said this one was the
best yet.
 
What do you have for me
to wear?”

She
turned to the rack behind her and pulled out a gorgeous, barely-there,
full-length evening gown.

“
Zuhair Murad
,” she said.
 
“It’s from his f
all
c
outure collection
.
 
I love the green beading and how the dress moves.
 
It’s weightless, it’s daring, it makes a
statement, and I know that you can pull it off.
 
What do you think?”

“It
is the best—I love it.
 
But it
reveals so much.
 
My breasts barely
will be covered.
 
And my stomach won’t
be covered at all.”

“What
would JLo think?”

And
for the first time that day, I was out of my head and laughed for real.
 
“She’d tell me to go for it.”

“Indeed,
she would.
 
I wouldn’t have chosen
it if you wouldn’t work it.
 
So,
let’s see how it fits.
 
Try it on.”

I’d
changed clothes so many times in front of them that I gave no thought to
it.
 
When I slipped into the dress, it
was clear that she’d nailed it once again.
 

“Oh,”
I said, as I turned in front of the full-length mirror to my right.
 
“It’s gorgeous.
 
Look at that beading.
 
And how the color complements my skin
tone.
 
And you’re right—look
how it moves.
 
It’s lovely,
Barbara.
 
I like it even better than
the Gatsby dress.”

“Brava,”
Bernie said.

“Turn
around for me, Jennifer,” Blackwell said.
 
“That’s right.
 
Keep
turning.
 
Slowly.
 
Perfect fit.
 
Turn.
 
Yes.
 
The sleeves are just right.
 
Your breasts are covered, but since we
don’t want one of them to pop out, we’ll adhere the material to you just in
case.
 
And look at the length.
 
Almost too long, but you haven’t tried
on your shoes.”
 
She reached around
to the table beside her, and offered me a pair of Jimmy Choo slingback heels
that were the exact color as the dress.

“How
did you manage that?” I asked.

“They
might have been white once.
 
I might
have had them tinted to suit our needs.”

I
put them on, and then it was complete.
 
The length of the dress was perfect.
 
The hair and makeup were sublime.
 
Despite what I was going into, and all
of the weight that was attached to it, I felt happy at that moment.
 
If nothing else, I would leave this
circuit with a bang.
 
“I love it,” I
said.

“I’m
glad, Jennifer.”

“So
am I,” Bernie said as Blackwell strategically attached the top of the dress to
my breasts.
 
“You’ll cut the
competition to the core once again.
 
You always do.
 
I have
clients coming to me now asking me to do their hair as I’ve done yours in the
past.
 
They want me to give them the
same tips I’ve given you on makeup.
 
Your fashion sense is becoming known in this city.”

“It’s
not my fashion sense.
 
This has all
been about you two.”

“And
you get to reap the rewards,” Blackwell teased.
 
“So unfair.”

I
looked at my watch, and despite the fact that I was in my iron box, I still
felt a shot of nerves thread through me.
 
“It’s almost eight,” I said to Blackwell.
 
“I should go and meet Alex.”

“So
you should,” she said.

And
after a quick kiss on Bernie’s cheek, we left the room.
 
We walked toward the bank of elevators
at the other side of the space, and she pressed the down button.

“Are
you ready for this?”

“Of
course.”

“You
seem oddly calm.”

“That
comes with acceptance.
 
And with
plenty of practice, which I had in my youth.”

“What
does that mean?”

“It
means that I’m in my iron box.”

“You’re
in your what?”

“It
doesn’t matter.”

“Give
this a chance.”

“I
am giving it a chance.
 
Look at me.”

“You
know what I mean.
 
Give
him
a
chance.”

The
doors slid open.
 
“I always will
give him a chance.
 
This is on
Alex.
 
I’m going nowhere until he
breaks things off with me, which likely will be tomorrow morning.
 
I fully expect that to happen,
especially after the email Tank forwarded to him earlier.
 
Maybe we’ll have a breakthrough tonight,
but you and I already know that’s unlikely.
 
They won’t act so soon.
 
So, I’ll be single soon.
 
I either have to accept that, or it’ll
ruin me.
 
I’ve thought a lot about
this today, and I’ve decided that it will be the former.
 
What’s unfortunate is that this might be
the last time you and Bernie have your way with me.
 
I’ll miss that—and so many other
things.
 
All those months ago, we
had a rough start, you and me.
 
But
I’ve come to love you like the mother I’ve never had.
 
You need to know that.
 
You also need to know the influence
you’ve had on me.
 
OK?
 
Do you know how deep that influence
is?
 
Do you?
 
I hope you do.
 
Please don’t look so sad.
 
However this goes, is how it goes.
 
I’m grateful that you helped me to
become the person I am today.
 
And you
did.
 
You were instrumental in
that.”
 
I stepped into the
elevator.
 
“So, let’s see how this
goes.”

For
the first time since I’d met her, her eyes welled with tears, which was so
unexpected that it almost set me off my game.
 
Before she could speak, and before I
became emotional myself, I looked away from her, said goodbye, and pressed the
button for Alex’s floor.

“You’ll
be fine,” she said.

But
her voice said otherwise—it was filled with indecision.
 
I blew her a kiss, and the doors shut,
cutting the space between us.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

When
the elevator slowed, my heart didn’t quicken.
 
Emotionally, I’d shut down to a point
where nothing could touch me.
 
If I
even let myself think about what was ahead of me, I’d never be able to get
through the evening.
 
I owed that to
Alex.
 
I needed to keep it
together.
 
Regardless of what came
tomorrow, I loved him and needed to do this for him.

The
doors opened, and Alex stood just beyond them.
 
Only this time, he didn’t have his hands
in his pockets.
 
There was no sign
of a grin on his face.
 
No dimples
there to melt my heart.
 
Instead, he
looked tense and uncomfortable.

I
stepped out, and the doors slid shut behind me.

“You
look beautiful,” he said.