PART 4:
Fifteen minutes later, the GPS had sent the limo onto some back streets. Some of them were crowded with people staring at the car, making Janet a little uneasy. She would have been nearly relieved when they came to a quieter part of town. Things here almost looked abandoned, she thought. But her enjoyment of the lack of car and pedestrian traffic was soon interrupted with a tap on the window pane between her and her passenger. The window slid down. “Julie!” “Janet, ma’am.” “Julie, Janet, whatever. The phone charger plug back here isn’t working. Why isn’t it working? You should have gotten it fixed before picking me up.” “I don’t know ma’am.” “Stop calling me that. Ma’am is for older women, I’m only 25.” “Yes, ma-…yes, certainly.” “Well, now my cell phone is dead and I can’t call my agent to tell her I’ll be late. You’d better drive faster.” “Yes’m…” Julie grabbed a lock of the dyed red hair sticking out under her Chaffeur cap and twirled it a little. She often had to drive difficult celebrities for the record company, but Danita Amore was known in the industry to be one of the most demanding, disrespectful divas alive today. It was one of the best-kept secrets in entertainment. You couldn’t deny her incredible talent, but her explosive temper and massive ego might have been enough to overshadow it. Sure, she could play nice for a few minutes hobnobbing with label executives or fans, but then she’d take out her frustration on the lowly people who had to work with her. As successful as she was, this trait had made it so no entourage usually travelled with her. Even her stylist, wardrobe, and makeup people would use any means of transportation possible to not have to ride with her. She hadn’t had a personal driver in over a year because of it, this car had been sent by her label. “I just have to keep my mouth shut for the next half hour and hope she forgets to complain about me,” Janet thought. “What was that, Janet?” “Oh, nothing.” (Did she say that out loud? That was close, she thought.) “Careful,” came a nagging voice from the back seats, “that turn almost made me spill my wine. If any of this gets on this dress, I’ll see you pay for it from your own wages.” “Yes, ma’am.” “Madame again. That’s it! I swear I’m having you fired the moment my publicity event is over!”
It was in the middle of this explosion of temper that the engine suddenly started to sputter. “Great! What did you do? Call me another driver and car right now.” “There’s a small problem with that, ma’am,” Janet replied, making sure to linger on the hated honorific. “And what’s that, you imbecille?” “I don’t own a phone.” “You don’t own a—how is that even possible?” “Driving for the label pays poorly. I couldn’t manage my cell bill, and last week it was disconnected.” “If you had fixed the charger back hear like I suggested, this wouldn’t be happening.” “Last time I checked, the charger was working fine.” “Well, it’s not now! Look, there are some girls over by those dumpsters. Go ask them if you can make a call, I’m sure one of them has a phone.” “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Janet said, still looking at the three women staring at her car. “Well, _I’m_ not going to go talk to them. You go ask them, right now. That’s an order.”
Janet timidly stepped out of the car, making certain to lock the doors, and put the keys into her jacket pocket. As she walked cautiously over to the women, the thin one with red hair and a bandana walked toward her menacingly. Janet was relieved when Alma simply brushed past her and continued on her way. But Alma was smiling as she cupped the keys in her hand so they wouldn’t jingle, a trick she learned from a pickpocket it Atlantic City.
“Look,” said Clara, “this is a bad idea, Lupita, this could come back and bite you in the culo. People with cars like that can hire people, find us…” Clara stopped speaking as she noticed Janet coming into earshot. “Um, excuse me,” said Janet, looking back and forth between Clara and Lupita before settling on the latter, who had an air of being in charge. “My car broke down, and I was wondering if either of you might let me make a call on your phone.” “I don’t have a phone,” Lupita said, “but I’m a regular Mrs. Goodwrench. Maybe I can fix your car for you. “
Back at the limo, Alma opened the lock. Danita, who had been watching the television in the car, looked up, assuming it was Janet. “Who are you? Close that door immediately!” Danita shouted when she saw the bandanaed ganster girl. “Oh, of course I’ll close the door,” Alma smiled, “but first, your highness, you’re coming with me!” With that, she grabbed a chunk of the singer’s hair that included her earlobe, and used the pressure to make her stand and climb out of the car. “See?” Alma said as she slammed the door, “that was easy.”
Janet turned when she heard the shouting, and started to rush back toward her car. Her passenger wasn’t pleasant, but she was still her responsibility, and Janet needed to protect her no matter how the thought of what might happen made her smile. But Lupita reached out and grabbed her shoulder, warning, “Don’t try anything, limo-girl.”
Danita was nearly screaming at Alma. “You can’t do this to me! Do you know who I am? I’m a star! I have two Latin Grammys!” Alma grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her toward the rest of the group. “Oh, aren’t you special. I have two Latin grammys and both my abuelos!” “You…what? Are you really that stupid?” Danita shouted before Alma silenced her with a slap. “You shouldn’t talk to me like that, princess. Things can still get much worse for you.”
(More to come another day, can't say when exactly, but I'm looking forward to seeing what happens here. On stories like this one, the art comes first, then I describe it after. It helps me think about how it all works from a physical perspective. It's a little slow, though.)
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