Ignite Me (The Annihilate Me Series) (18 page)

“How about if
we go up to the third floor?” she said.
 
“You can decide for yourself.”

*
 
*
 
*

When we arrived
by elevator to the third floor, which was labeled “Women: Designer Evening
Wear,” the place was filled with women busy shopping.
 
Blackwell said, “Let’s do this,” and
then she stopped dead in her tracks when a woman somewhere off to our left called
out her name in an odd lilting voice.

“Looky who the
here,” a voice said with what sounded to me like a thick Cuban accent.
 
“It’s the Barbara Blackwell!
 
Now Epifania have to come over and give
her the proper hello!”

“Tell me that
isn’t her, Chloe,” Blackwell said.
 
“Not Epifania Zapopa.
 
Not
the loose cannon of Park Avenue.
 
Not now.
 
You know I can’t do
this.”

“I’m afraid
that it is her,” Chloe said in a quiet voice.
 
“She’s here every day.
 
Sometimes twice a day.
 
I didn’t see her enter the store, but
I’m afraid that she’s coming our way now.”

“Has that woman
somehow had me drugged and implanted a tracking device in my ass?” Blackwell
said in an equally low voice.
 
“Don’t answer.
 
Just get me
to that dressing room before she can get to us.”

“You can run,
but you can’t the hide!”

And at that,
Blackwell’s shoulders just slumped as the loud sound of heels clicking across
the floor approached us through the crowd.

“Just so you
know, Madison, we’ve officially entered hell.
 
There’s no escaping this now, so just go
with it.
 
Say as little to her as
possible.
 
I’m supposed to be nice
to her, because, to be honest, she did do something extraordinary for Alex and
Jennifer not long ago.
 
And because
of what she did, I need to recognize that she probably is a decent human being,
even if she is a former stripper worth five hundred million dollars because of
her dead husband’s money.
 
And yet
I’m still struggling with all of it!
 
Whatever.
 
Let me handle her
so we can just move on and get this over with.”

I had no idea
what she was talking about, but it was clear from the horrified expression on
Chloe’s face—and the cold, determined look on Blackwell’s face—that
for some reason unknown to me, we were about to come across a woman Blackwell
didn’t want to tolerate.

It took only a
moment before a beautiful woman with long, thick, dark hair and enormous
breasts cut through the masses and put her hands on her formidable hips as she
stood before us.

“It is you, the
cookie,” she said to Blackwell.
 
“You know, when my father used to pass the gas on that lousy inner tube
we took to get to this country?
 
You
always knew when it was him because everyone knew his farts!
 
And your voice, it the same way!
 
I know your voice anywhere!”

“Did you just
compare my voice to your father’s flatulence, Epifania?”

“No, no!” she
said.
 
“It is just that
mi
papi’s
farts always gave themselves away.
 
There were a dozen of us on that leetle bitty floaty boat, but I always
knew when
papi
let loose a big one.
 
Because his ass, it was so huge, it sounded like a damn tuba going
off.
 
It the same way with you, the
cookie.
 
I hear the tone of your
voice, and BAM!
 
I know it you!
 
That why Epifania come over to give you
a hug.”

“Don’t you dare
give me a hug.
 
If you do, those
piñatas of yours are going to wrinkle my suit.”

“Oh,
please.
 
Come on.
 
That the right.
 
Give Epifania a nice beeg hug!”

Blackwell
allowed it, but only for an instant before she broke away.

“How are you,
Epifania?” she asked.

“Oh, Epifania
is just the great.
 
Sure, I’m still
a little sore from getting my little meow-meow tightened by the doctor last
week, but it all good.
 
And now that
that is done, Epifania is ripe to find herself a real man, which Chuckie
wasn’t!”
 
She shrugged.
 
“But still, I gotta give it to the
Chuckie for his money, because without it, Epifania would not have met you, and
the Yennifer, and the Alex!”

“That’s what
terrifies me,” Blackwell said.

“You always so
the witty,” Epifania said.
 
“Why
can’t I be as the witty as you?”

“Because that
would take an education?”

“Oh, lady,
Epifania is the street-smart.
 
Don’t
ever discount that, the cookie.
 
And
by the way, have I told you how pretty you look today?
 
Always in Chanel.
 
Always so classy.
 
Why can’t I do the classy?”

“Because you
were developed in a test tube by unnatural means?”

“What does that
mean?
 
I don’ even know what that
mean.”

“It’s
unimportant.”

“Who this?” she
said when she turned to me with a bright smile on her face.
 
“Who this beautiful girl?
 
She a knockout, Barbara.
 
Is she one of Yennifer’s nieces?
 
One of Alex’s?
 
She must be, because she come from the
good end of the gene pool.”

“This is my new
personal assistant, Madison Wells, Epifania.
 
Please give her a hug if you wish.”

Seriously?

“I love the
hug!”

And when she
gave me one, I thought I heard Blackwell stifle a laugh behind me, but through
it all, I nevertheless sensed that Epifania’s hug was genuine.
 
When we parted, she stood back and
assessed me.
 

“How long you
been working for the Barbara now?”

“Just this
week.”

“How you like
your job?”

It’s hellish.

“I’m learning a
lot.”

“Where you go
to school?”

“I received my
M.B.A. from Harvard.”

“What an ‘M.B.A.’?”

“A master’s
degree in business.”

“And you
settled for a job to be Barbara’s beetch?”

Oh,
that
will go
over well.

“I’m very happy
with my job,” I lied.

“Oh, Epifania
not so sure about that, the cookie.
 
But I get it.
 
In this
town?
 
You need to be the politically
correct, no?”

She reached
into her purse, removed a card, and gave it to me.
 
“Call me if Barbara fires your ass,
OK?
 
Because if she does, you can
come and work for me!”

“Excuse me?”
Blackwell said.

“Ah, lady,
don’t you the worry about it.
 
It’s
just an offer, and only if you fire her—which everyone in this town knows
you probably will.
 
Besides, at this
point in my
viva loca
, I need a personal assistant more than you
do.”
 
She turned back to me and her
eyes sparkled.
 
“So, who know, maybe
you come to work for Epifania!
 
And
believe me, Fatison, the two of us will have much more fun!”

“Um, it’s
actually Madison,” I said.

“Oh,
sheet.
 
I just called you fat,
didn’t I?
 
Which you aren’t
all.
 
You’ve got a hot body, baby.
 
You seeing anyone yet?
 
The way you look, you must be.”

The jury’s
still out on that one, Epifania.
 
But maybe . . .

“Epifania,”
Blackwell interrupted.
 
“That’s
enough.
 
Unless Madison happens to
disappoint me in a major way, I have no plans on firing her.”

“Define ‘major
way,’” Epifania said.
 
“Does that
mean you fire her if she show up late for the work?
 
Or if she doesn’t do something exactly
right?
 
Or if you just one day wake
up and decide she no longer the one for you?
 
You see, I already know you like the
back of my ass, the cookie, so for the Madison’s sake, I think you should
define it for her.
 
That the fair thing
to do, no?”

“I will define nothing.
 
Madison is working out fine.
 
I suggest that you find a personal
assistant of your own.”

And for the
first time since I’d been at Wenn, Blackwell was forced to acknowledge that though
I might have made a few mistakes, on some level, she was pleased with my
performance.
 
Otherwise, she would
have just handed me over to this woman.
 
So maybe despite her constant threats to the contrary, she didn’t plan
on ditching me anytime soon, which is what Jennifer already had suggested to
me, but which still came as a crushing kind of relief.

And yet this
Epifania woman was worth five hundred million dollars.
 
Could I get further ahead with her?
 
I was so desperate to make it here in
New York, how could I overlook any opportunity that might come my way, especially
given the way Blackwell had been treating me from the start?

“Look, the
cookie,” Epifania said to me.
 
“I
already want you.
 
In fact, I need
someone like you.
 
And besides, she
gonna fire you anyway.
 
Trust me on
this.
 
You should come over to me!
 
And stop looking at me like that,
Barbara, because as Chuckie used to say before he went belly up, business is
business.”

“The hell it
is.
 
This is sabotage.”

“Whatever.
 
Look, it not the personal.
 
And Madison, guess the what?
 
I will pay you double whatever Barbara
is paying you now.
 
You’ll also get
the full bennies and the time off and all that.
 
Plus, you will get to shop with me!
 
And believe me, the Madison, Epifania is
more generous than the one you work for now.”

You probably
are, Epifania, but you also sound kind of crazy to me, which is a wee bit
worrisome.
 
And regardless of what
you’d pay me, what opportunities would I have with you?
 
How would I grow if I came to work for
you?
 
I’m fairly sure that I
wouldn’t, even if the thought of having my salary doubled is making me want to
salivate right now.

“I appreciate
the offer, Ms. Zapopa, but I’m committed to my job at Wenn, and I’m especially
grateful to be learning from someone as knowledgable as Ms. Blackwell.
 
I hope you understand, but I have to
decline.”

“OK, then, so
you just the think about it.
 
No
need to make any beeg decisions at the Bergdorf.
 
If Barbara becomes too much for you to
handle or if she decides to can your ass, you call me.
 
I hire you.
 
We have the fun.”
 

She glanced at
her watch.
 
“Epifania need to go
now,” she said.
 
“I’d give you
another hug, Barbara, but right now you look like you want to take a beeg
baseball bat to the side of my head, so just know that Epifania loves you and
that she meant no harm.
 
It’s a beeg,
bad competitive world, and I know a winner when I see one.
 
And this Madison looks like a
winner.
 
At least by my standards.”

What are her
standards?

Before I knew
it, she was on me again with two quick air kisses on both sides of my cheeks,
and then Epifania Zapopa, who Blackwell had rightfully called the loose cannon
of Park Avenue, swept away from us and disappeared into the crowd.

*
 
*
 
*

Later, after
we’d chosen Jennifer’s dress—a stunning Oscar de la Renta strapless gown
in bright yellow that had cost a mind-boggling twenty thousand dollars—it
was only when we stepped out of Bergdorf and into the Rolls Royce waiting for
us at the curb that Blackwell decided to mention what had happened with
Epifania Zapopa.