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Chapter Three cont...Dead Celebs

Here is the rest of chapter three to Dead Celebs. Now, remember when I posted Chapter One and I mentioned that there would be a character in this story who loves to drop the "f" bomb--yeah well, she gets on a roll here. That "stated," this is not for my younger readers, and I pray that none of my 8th graders read this. Remember--it's a character, not me--and this is how this character would act.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think. I love the feedback.

Cass and I offered to lock up that night and although it felt sneaky, we slept in one of the booths inside the bar and I got ready for my first day of work the next morning in the bathroom at Nick’s. I knew that Nick wouldn’t be opening until ten, so I had time to get ready and get out. The one problem was, what was I going to do with Cass? I decided that I didn’t have a choice and I would have to leave her in the van and crack the windows for her. I’d check on her at lunch.

So, I started my new job working at the Nordstrom on La Cieniga at The MAC counter. I liked it. I really did. However, I was exhausted by the third day. Here I was sleeping with my dog in a booth at Nick’s every night, closing the bar for him, and trying hard to get out of there in the mornings before he came in. Then I checked on Cass on my breaks and took her out for quick walks. I hated leaving her in the van all day. I was still trying to find a place but my hours at MAC and then playing at Nick’s weren’t too conducive for finding an apartment.
At the end of the week, I was at my wit’s end and thankful that only two days away and I would have a day off. I was determined to take the first apartment I could find and now that I had two steady jobs I felt reasonably comfortable that I could make it.
I was finishing up for the day. The store would be closing in thirty minutes, which meant that I would be running from the store to Nick’s.

A young woman approached the counter. “Hi. I need a new look. My sister is the gorgeous one and I’m tired of being called cute Brenda. Can you do something for me? Can you make me hot?”

“Well, we are getting ready to close.” I really did not want to do a makeover. I just wanted to get out of there, take care of Cass and eat something before I set up at Nick’s.
“This is important. I need your help. I want to look fabulous for a major party tonight.”

I eyed my boss who was watching me from the behind the cash register and smiled. “Of course I can make you look hot.” Thirty minutes later, and Brenda looked like a movie star. Even my boss said that she couldn’t have done it better. I gave the pixied haired blonde, blue-eyed girl that smoky eye shadow look to bring out the blue blue in her eyes and a soft pink brushed across the cheeks, with just the right peachy pink gloss to give her that pouty kissable look. What I did not know as I rushed out the doors to go to my second job that evening was that Brenda’s look would change my life and my lifestyle in less than twenty-four hours.

Next day back behind the counter, this guy approaches me (scared me half to death, too, because he was all decked out in black, real sleek like, slicked back hair, dark eyes—very Godfatheresque, but handsome in a slime-ball way). He cleared his throat and asked, “Are you Evie Duncan?”

“Who wants to know?” I replied.

He handed me a card with the name “Simone,” written on it. “Simone?”
Cute and slimy replied, “Yes, and I’m Dwight Jenkins and I represent Simone. You know, Simone.”

I took a step back. “Am I on one of those TV shows where y’all have hidden cameras? And are you talking about the Simone?”

“No hidden cameras I can assure you, and yes we are speaking of pop star Simone.”

My head started spinning because it had to be that Simone heard me playing at Nick’s. Maybe Nick really did know people in high places and maybe the producer guy who was coming to listen to me next week was her producer. Oh wow, would Betty La Rue be so proud and my mom and daddy! How had I missed seeing Simone at Nick’s? When had she come in and heard me? She had to have been in disguise. That’s how those celebs do it when they want to go out, they go all incognito.

“You made up her sister Brenda yesterday,” Jenkins said.

“Brenda was Simone’s sister?”

He nodded. “Simone was so impressed by the way you made Brenda look that she would like to meet you.”

“Okay,” I stuttered. “I have to sing tonight at this place called Nick’s. I’m off tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you understand,” he cut in. “She’d like to meet you now.”

“I have a job here. I can’t just leave. I have bills to pay and my dog to take care of.”

Dwight Jenkins called my boss Tisha over. “Evie will not be needing this job any longer. She’s going with me.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I can’t do that.”

“Simone would like you to be her personal makeup artist. The pay will be a bit more than here in the cosmetics department.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“What? Is this for real?”

Tish came around the counter and put her arm around me. “You have to go Evie. Something like this is a once in lifetime opportunity. Do it, girl.”

I hugged her goodbye and followed Jenkins. He escorted me to a limo where waiting inside was Simone and Brenda.

I was speechless as I sat down across from them. Jenkins climbed in the front with the chauffer. Simone smiled. “Thank you for coming.”

As if I had a choice, right? I studied Simone in total awe. She is a true beauty—long blonde hair, big blue eyes, a body men would love to ravish and women would kill for, and she had a voice that had arenas around the country sold out months in advance of her concerts. She was a cross between a younger Madonna and a Mariah Carey. To be sitting across from her was mind blowing and my stomach did this swirly gonna make me puke thing that I hate, and that always happens to me when I get nervous.

“You are so genius,” Simone said to me. She took Brenda’s face in her hands and squeezed, bunching it up like a fat goldfish trying to breathe. “The hottest guy at this party we were at came up to my sister last night and hooked up with her. Her not me, and I was so working it. Have no clue how he didn’t look my way, except for she did look hot. Usually she looks kind of like a dork. A cute dork, but a dork.” She let go of Brenda’s face.

Brenda rubbed her cheeks. “Thanks sis.”

“She was smoking hot and I asked her who did her face and she told me this chick at Nordy’s. I’m like I so have to meet this chick, and well here we are, and guess what? It is your fucking lucky biggest day of your life.” Simone smiled, shiny white teeth—had to have been to one of those teeth whitening places. Teeth are not naturally that white.

“Really?” I asked. “Thank you for the compliment.” I wasn’t sure what to say. I mean, what do you say to someone with an ego the size of Los Angeles itself, who has graced the cover of Vogue and Bizarre and also won a handful of Grammy’s, and talks like a truck driver? I almost had to pinch myself that I wasn’t dreaming, but then the car made a quick turn and Simone spilled her glass of champagne in my lap.

Without an apology, she said, “Yes, really. You are my new personal makeup chick and check this out…” she rolled down the glass between us and the driver. “Harvey, take us over to Blake’s place. I’m gonna show my new makeup chick here,” she glanced at me, “Hon, what the fuck is your name?”

“Evie.”

“Right. Evie, my new makeup chick is getting new digs.” She rolled the window back up.

“I’m confused,” I said. Brenda poured me a glass of champagne. “It’s not even noon. I can’t drink. I don’t drink usually and not before noon, definitely not.”

“First, confusion around my sister happens a lot,” Brenda said.

Simone punched Brenda lightly in the arm. “Ha, ha, so funny. Little sis thinks she’s soooo funny.”

Brenda nodded. “And two…” She held up two fingers, “if you’re hanging with us, which you will be, because big sis doesn’t go far without her makeup and the one who puts it on her, you are going to have to learn to party like a rock star.”

“Drink up.” Simone clinked my glass. “Cheers. Here’s your new home.”

I looked out the window and my jaw dropped. I sucked back the champagne because I just knew this had to be some really weird reality TV show with hidden cameras everywhere. “What do you mean?”

“It’s like this Edie,” Simone started.

“It’s Evie. My name is Evie.”

She waved a hand in my face. “My pal Blake who is this big producer guy, friend of mine, is in Europe for like a year or something stupid like that, and he needs a house sitter. I volunteered Brenda, but she says that she’s afraid of the house and won’t do it.”

“Duh. Place is creepy.” Brenda poured herself another glass of champagne.

“Shut-up,” Simone said. “So part of you coming on board as my makeup chick, you get to live in luxury baby. This place is way cool. Like hot.”

I had to agree with her. Palm trees and an iron gate, kind of had a 60’s retro, Palm Springs look going on. But what was the catch? I mean, was she serious? I could actually live in this place? “Can I bring my dog?”

“You can bring fifty fucking dogs for all I care. What do you say, Edie? You in, makeup chick, or what?”

Evie, Edie, makeup chick, whatever—I didn’t give a damn what she wanted to call me. I was definitely in.

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