by Elizabeth Belmont
"Ralphie, you can't be serious." Tapping a gold pen against her new iPhone, Valerie Howard (Val to her friends) paced in the expansive Rodeo Drive office of her boss, Ricardo Cache, the founder and last word on anything concerning Cache Events and Planning... Los Angeles' go-to agency for the best, beautiful, and most expensive of elite venues. "There is no way Mr. Cache would OK this. I want to talk to him."
Sitting at his boss's desk, Ralph Deccard, or Ralphie as he preferred to be called, oozed a smile to the tall blonde pacing on Ricardo's geometric silk-thread rug. God how he hated this bitch's guts. Too damn tall and way too confident for his taste, the portly man wondered, yet again, how she'd managed her climb to the top of Cache Events without even a whisper of unseemly acts with the owner. No woman he'd ever met had the brains for business, and even those who come close should have the good sense to defer to the men they worked with. Yes, Ralphie knew how a woman should act, and Miss Valerie Howard did not act like any woman he'd want.
"Valerie, I shouldn't have to remind you that while Ricardo is gone, I'm in charge. I'm the boss and you will do as I say." Leaning back, Ralphie ran a light hand over his thinning hair. "You should also address me as Mr. Deccard."
Stopping her pacing, Val crossed her arms and sized up the pudgy man sitting in her boss's leather chair. "Ralphie, you are my colleague, not my boss. Just because Mr. Cache gave you authority to accept new clients on his behalf does not make you the boss."
"Right now I'm the closest thing to a boss you have, Valerie. You would be wise to show a little respect."
"Real respect is earned, Ralphie dear. Not demanded."
Ralphie colored at Val's patronizing tone. Damn her! "I suggest you take that feminist chip off your shoulder and listen to me, Valerie dear. Q-Zone is the hottest ticket in town, maybe in the nation right now. If he wants to plan a birthday party with our help, we don't say no. Are we clear?"
Val snorted. "Who's 'we', Ralphie? You have yet to mention your part in this booking. And the sleaze's name is not Q-Zone, it's Chaucer Wells."
Ralphie kept the smile on his face; all teeth and no humor. "My part was the hard part, landing this booking. Do you know how many other agencies wanted this gig? Now all you have to do is look pretty and keep our Q-Zone happy." Looking pointedly at Val's perfectly waxed legs, Ralphie allowed a little humor to creep into his smile. "You should be able to handle that, right sweetheart?"
Mirroring his smile, Val stepped up to the desk and leaned over, her blouse opening to flash a deep glimpse of honey-tanned cleavage. "You mean keep his interest like this?"
Ralphie could feel his heart beat faster and a tightening in his linen pants. Maybe this stupid chick was finally coming around. "Yeah baby. Just like that."
Still smiling, Val leaned in closer and knocked Ralphie's luke-warm coffee onto his lap. "Fat chance." Straightening up, Val stared hard at her now red faced and sputtering colleague. "I want to talk to Mr. Cache."
Ralphie couldn't believe this woman's nerve. "You crazy bitch! You just ruined an $800 pair of Brioni pants."
Val smiled and stepped back from the desk, her right hand discreetly moving her gold Mont Blanc pen from between her fingers and into her fist. "You keep with that line of thought dough-boy, and I'll ruin more than just your pants."
Something in her voice stopped the balding man dead in his tracks. How did she know he was only moments from smacking some respect into her smug face? Sizing her up, Ralphie decided to let it go. Not that he wasn't man enough, just she was probably the type of dried up chicken-wing who would report him to the police.
"Look Valerie, I'm not here to argue with you. All you need to know is I'm in charge and I have a client for you. Mr. Cache is gone until the first of December and he left specific instructions not to be disturbed. Even you know that."
Val sighed. Mr. Cache did indeed leave instruction he was not to be contacted during his vacation to Greece. He also, for some ungodly reason, left Ralphie in charge of new accounts. "All right Ralphie, I'll work the sleaze. But I'm not doing it for the usual rate. I want twenty percent above the standard cut. And I want another ten grand on my expense account."
"Forget it. I don't have to give you crap."
"Fine, Ralphie. Make me unhappy. You can explain to Mr. Cache how come you couldn't get me to take a client." Holding her head high, Val crossed her arms and grinned. "After all, you are the boss... for now."
Damn! "Fine. I'll give you the twenty on the cut, but I'm not increasing your expense account."
"I'm walking away, Ralphie."
"All right!"
Val smiled and turned from the office door. "In writing, Ralphie. You have until five." The tall woman's confident 'click, click, clack' of her heels followed her down the hall as Ralphie threw his coffee cup against the wall.
"Stupid bitch," Ralphie muttered as he leaned against the cherry wood, Tiffany-inspired desk. Willing himself calm, Ralphie pulled a small vial of blue pills from his jacket pocket and popped four dry. Crazy broad! Well, she'd get hers soon enough. Q-Zone had a well earned reputation and Valerie Howard was soon going to learn just how bad the latest rap/cross-over artist was. Ralphie had made sure Q-Zone's agent understood the event planner from Cache Events was a big fan. "She'll do anything to make your client happy," Ralphie had assured the east coast agent. "Anything."
As the warm pharmaceutical buzz washed over his overly tanned body, Ralphie smiled. Oh yes, his Miss Howard was in for quite a time. If he was lucky, Q-Zone would take care of Ralphie's number one rival, her sniveling assistant, and earn him a tidy commission.
"Q-Zone? I thought he was in jail back in the Midwest somewhere." Sitting on his couch, long legs resting on the cluttered coffee table and his girl snuggled up at his side, Roy scratched a little at his long sideburns. "The guy seems like a bum. How did Val get stuck with him?"
Leaning against his chest, Kim Cache began to pick at her fingernails... a habit that drove both her Uncle Ricardo and boss, Val, nuts. It was a habit the petite woman had tried over the years, with varying levels of failure, to kick. Although since meeting the lanky bouncer at her side last spring when Roy and his best friend had all but kidnapped Val from a gallery event, Kim still couldn't believe they actually got Val onto a plane to Chicago, she'd been doing better by her weekly manicures.
Roy. She really liked Roy. He made her feel happy. Made her feel safe in a way she never had before. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't know if she should give the whole truth.
"Ralphie gave her the account," she said.
Roy looked down at his girl and gently took her hands in his. "You're picking your nails again, girl. What's wrong?"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't pick your nails unless something's wrong." Pulling her a little closer, Roy snuck his free hand down the small woman's side. "Come on, Kim. Spill, or I'll break out my tickling fingers!"
"Roy, don't!" Kim giggled. Grabbing his large hand, she smiled and took a deep breath. She could trust this guy, of that she was sure. Ever since their first meeting almost three months ago at the Aladdin Gallery, Roy had shown himself to be a funny, respectful and loving man. Unlike others in her past, Roy didn't treat her like a step to the next big break. He didn't seem more interested in her family name then in her. Most important to Kim, he didn't take advantage of her shy nature. Still, some things are hard to talk about, especially when they have to do with old money and social secrets.
Watching her pale face go sad again, Roy frowned. He could always keep Kim giggling. What in the clear blue sky was up with his girl? "Come on girl, talk to me."
Kim sighed. Although he never demanded it, Kim had promised herself she would be honest with Roy. Honest about everything. "OK, here's the thing. You know I'm Ricardo's niece, right?"
"Right."
"Well, Uncle Ricardo and my family travel together, vacation in the same social circles." Blushing, Kim struggled to find the right words. "You see, my family likes to socialize with certain other families... families of a certain income bracket and..."
"Kim, if this is going to turn into another of your poor-little-rich-girl apologies I'm going to shoot myself."
The petite woman smiled at Roy's exaggerated stern tone. Kim wasn't used to being with a guy who truly didn't care about her family name, and sometimes she still felt the need to explain, even apologize for, her family's wealth. "You're right. Listen, you know how Chaucer, that's Q-Zone's real name, was arrested for attacking that woman in Minneapolis this summer?"
"Yeah. I heard he hurt that girl real bad. It was all over the news. Then the story just died."
Kim shuddered. "His family made it go away. I know for a fact his dad paid that poor girl and her family to keep their mouths shut. Even flew the lot of them to Morocco where the district attorney's office couldn't reach them."
"How do you know?"
"Daddy and Mr. Wells, that's Chaucer's dad, golf the first Saturday of every month."
Roy nodded. "So what you're saying is this jerk got away with raping and beating some poor girl with the help of Daddy's cash. That's sick."
Kim shook her head. "What I'm saying is Chaucer, playing his new alter-ego Q-Zone, got away with raping and beating another girl. From my count, this last girl is number seven... seven that I know of."
Sitting up straight, Roy turned fully to his girlfriend. "Seven?!"
Kim nodded. "Welcome to the dirty side of the top five percent. Chaucer's been attacking girls since he was in high school. Those brave enough to come forward are either publicly humiliated by Mr. Wells' lawyers or paid to keep their mouths shut." Kim shook her head. "Daddy's told Mr. Wells to cut Chaucer off, but he's the mans only child. Daddy thinks the only reason Mr. Wells is financing this whole Q-Zone music career thing is so the family can blame Chaucer's violence on the lifestyle."
"This is crazy. You and Val are signed up to work with this animal? Does Val know Q-Zone's history?"
Kim felt her eyes starting to water up. "She knows. Val didn't want to take the job, but Ralphie goaded her into it." Looking up at Roy's stern face, Kim felt the tears start to drop. "I shouldn't have told you. Oh Roy, are you mad at me?"
"What? Why would I be mad at you?"
Kim wiped her eyes. "You look mad at somebody."
Roy sighed and took Kim in his arms. "I'm not mad at you sweet girl. I'm mad at Val. What is she thinking?"
Kim snuggled down in Roy's strong arms. "Val's a strong person, Roy. The toughest woman, heck the toughest person I know. I think she sees Q-Zone as a challenge from Ralphie." Kim frowned. "Ralphie's a jerk. Val would never let that over-fed reptile get the better of her. Get the better of either of us."
Roy shook his head. "Enough about Ralphie. My question is does Jason know about any of this?"
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