1
Present Day
Valentine's Day was nothing but a capitalist scam, and the world would be a much better place if everyone accepted this simple truth about this senseless holiday.
At least that was Violet's new philosophy.
She'd never thought of herself as a love cynic or someone who crapped on things that most of the population enjoyed for the sake of being difficult or edgy, but Valentine's Day could kick rocks this year. It might be a pessimistic outlook to hate the day of love, but Violet figured she deserved to revel in her animosity, considering that five months ago, just two weeks shy of her wedding day, she'd discovered that her charming, successful and seemingly dedicated husband-to-be had been sleeping with someone else.
Now it was the middle of January and she was standing in line at a Walgreens in Las Vegas, surrounded by Valentine's Day balloons and teddy bears and silly cards with weird romantic puns, like Thanks for bacon my Valentine's Day eggs-traordinary! She imagined each of the fluffy pink teddy bears laughing at her and her silly attempt at a love life, which had so easily gone up in flames. It was all a huge joke. Love was a joke. At least the romantic variety.
But she wasn't at Walgreens to shoot the stink eye at innocent teddy bears. She needed vitamins and snacks to cure her fatigue because she had a tendency to get so caught up in work, she forgot to eat. Between her consistent twelve- and sometimes fourteen-hour workdays and her crumbling personal life, she was grateful that fatigue seemed to be the worst of her symptoms and that her stress wasn't creating bigger problems, like a stomach ulcer or something.
"Did you have any trouble finding what you needed?" the cashier asked when it was finally Violet's turn to be rung up.
Violet placed a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips and a box of Goobers on the counter next to the bottle of multivitamins. She kept her Dior sunglasses perched carefully on the bridge of her nose as she shook her head. The cashier, a youngish guy with shaggy blond hair and a thin mustache, looked her up and down in a slightly suggestive manner. Violet sighed and rolled her eyes behind her glasses. Men had been objectifying her since she'd sprouted boobs in the ninth grade, so while his behavior was exhausting, it wasn't new. This guy was really reaching, though, because you could hardly see anything about her figure underneath her black oversize Off-White T-shirt and matching joggers.
"Nope," she said.
Then, as he was bagging up her items, Violet spotted something behind his head.
"Wait." She pointed at the latest edition of Cosmopolitan. "Can I have that too?"
He scanned the magazine and started to slip it into the bag, but Violet reached to take it from him. "I'm going to read it now. Thank you."
She hustled out of the store toward the black Mercedes-Benz SUV that was waiting for her in the parking lot. Her eyes were glued to the photo of Cosmo's January cover star, Meela Baybee, the up-and-coming alternative R and B singer whom everyone was obsessed with lately. Meela's silver hair was cut into an asymmetrical bob, and she was wearing her signature biker-shorts-and-nipple-pasties combo-a look that Violet had created specifically for her. Violet flipped to the interview, quickly skimming over the uninteresting sections about Meela's upcoming album, and when she reached the inevitable question about who Meela was dating, Violet narrowed her eyes.
Cosmo: There's been a lot of talk about your relationship with your manager, Eddy Coltrane. Can you speak to that?
Meela coyly takes a sip from her drink and laughs.
Meela: We're together. I'm happy. That's all I'm going to say.
Eddy Coltrane, Meela's manager turned boyfriend, was otherwise known as Violet's ex-fiancé.
Otherwise known as the world's biggest asshole.
An unfaithful asshole who'd called and texted Violet so many times after she broke things off, she'd had no choice but to block him.
She'd met Eddy at a Halloween party the year before last in LA. She'd heard of him in the way that people working in the entertainment industry always vaguely hear of one another. Eddy was a talent manager for some of the most popular up-and-coming musicians, and Violet had happened to work with some of his clients on various music video shoots, where she'd gotten her start. At that fated party, Violet had been dressed as Cruella de Vil, with a faux-Dalmatian-print coat and elbow-length red satin gloves. Eddy hadn't been wearing a costume at all, just a white button-up and black slacks. He'd bumped into Violet by the bar and bought her a drink in apology.
He was older than her, in his late thirties, and right away he was very clear about his desire to meet someone and settle down. Up until that point, Violet had been solely focused on her career. She had fun with guys here and there, but she never let them get too close. Her career was flourishing, and she felt like she was ready for her personal life to finally flourish too.
They'd only been dating three months when he proposed. He'd flown out to Italy while she was at Milan Fashion Week and he'd whisked her away to Venice. While riding in a boat through the Grand Canal, he'd kneeled down and popped the question. Violet had said yes because she cared about Eddy. They might not have had a love that was overwhelming or all-consuming, but it was steady. He was steady. With Eddy, there would be no surprise breakups or intense heartache that lasted for years. She'd been through that once and didn't care to experience it again.
Eddy understood her busy lifestyle. Often, he was even busier. He'd felt like the smart choice. The safe choice. So it was ironic that while Violet had been celebrating her bachelorette party in Miami, TMZ posted a video of Meela and Eddy kissing on the beach in Jamaica. Even worse was that, at the time, Violet was Meela's stylist and had introduced them.
"Damn, girl, I thought somebody went and kidnapped you inside that store."
Violet snapped her head up, and her best friend, Karina, aka Karamel Kitty, the number one rap artist in the country and Violet's biggest client, was leaning out the SUV window, beckoning Violet forward. The glittery polish on her long stiletto nails shimmered in the sunlight.
"We've got things to do, mama!" Karina said. "Hurry that cute ass up."
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Violet grinned and tossed the magazine in the trash before sliding into the back seat beside Karina. She handed her the box of Goobers.
"Oooh, you know I love these." Karina squealed and wrapped her arm around Violet, hugging her closely. The hair of Karina's jet-black waist-length wig brushed against Violet's leg. Karina opened the box of chocolate-covered peanuts, shook a handful into her palm, then placed the box in her highlighter yellow Telfar bag. "Thanks, boo."
"You're welcome," Violet said, eating a handful of chips before chewing two vitamins and taking a swig of water. "I'm pretty sure you're the only person in the world who still eats those."
"All the more candy for me." Karina eyed Violet, who was rolling her shoulders and stretching her neck from side to side. "You good?"
"I'm fine. Just tired, but what else is new?" She shrugged, and Karina leaned her head on Violet's shoulder.
"We've been through worse. At least it's not as bad as that night in Québec, right?"
Violet snort-laughed. At least it's not as bad as that night in Québec was one of their mottos. Two years ago, when Violet had dressed Karina for a festival performance in Québec, they'd gotten stuck in the hotel elevator for three hours. They'd gone into the elevator as a stylist and client who got along pretty well and had a decent rapport, and they'd left the elevator with a new bond. That was what happened when you decided to pass the time by sharing your worst fears and deepest, darkest secrets. Karina ended up missing her scheduled performance that night, but it would forever go down in history as the day that Violet gained a new best friend.
Karina's driver peeled out of the parking lot, and Karina reached past her bodyguard in the passenger seat to turn up the radio. They were playing her hit single, "Bad Bitch Antics." Vegas was showing Karina love because she had an appearance that night at the opening of the brand-new Luxe Grande casino.
But they'd only be in Vegas for less than twenty-four hours. Tomorrow, Karina would fly to Atlanta to film episodes as a guest judge on Up Next, a new hip-hop competition reality show, and Violet would be on the first flight back to New York for an interview with Look Magazine, as she was currently under consideration to be included in their "30 Under 30 in Style" issue.
After years of hustling, Violet had amassed a small but impressive client roster. In addition to working with Karina, she worked with Gigi Harrison, who was mostly known for action flicks and had just starred in a superhero movie. She also worked with Destiny Diaz, a former Nickelodeon star who was making a big splash as the lead in a gritty teen drama, and Violet's most recent client was Angel, a pop R and B singer who was turning into a bona fide sex symbol. She had a fitting scheduled with him in LA next week for the Grammys. Then she'd fly back to New York again to begin the marathon that was fashion month, which would start with New York Fashion Week, then take her to London, Milan and Paris.
Afterward, she'd return to LA for a fitting with Karina for the world premiere of her visual album, The Kat House. It was Karina's sophomore effort, and the album was about women's empowerment. In the accompanying visuals, Karina led a rogue group of women around the world, liberating cities of evil, ain't-shit men. In each scene, Karina and her backup dancers donned custom and vintage catsuits. The team had filmed the visuals in November and December of last year. Violet had acted as head stylist for the entire project. At only twenty-eight years old, she was one of the youngest stylists to ever achieve such an accomplishment. The hype surrounding the visual album, which was set to release in March, was one of the main reasons Violet was being considered for Look Magazine's deeply coveted and exclusive "30 Under 30" list.
If the Look Magazine team deemed her impressive enough during her interview and ultimately decided to include her on the list, it would be a huge deal for Violet's career. Look was read mostly by industry insiders: fashion people, of course, but also managers and publicists of major stars who wanted to keep an eye on stylists who could help improve their clients' images. If Violet was featured on the "30 Under 30" list, she'd be put directly on the radar of some of the biggest power players in the industry.
Violet's younger sister, Lily, always said that Violet's life moved at lightning speed. She wasn't wrong. Violet's job required her to be on the go constantly. She missed birthdays and holidays. She missed a normal sleep schedule. More often than not, she was running on empty. But she was living the life she'd always dreamed of. That was what she reminded herself whenever she felt moments of emptiness creeping in.
Back at the hotel, controlled chaos ensued-the norm for Violet’s line of work. Thankfully, because of her vitamins and snacks, her energy was beginning to return. Music blasted as Karina talked to fans on her Instagram Live while getting her hair and makeup done. Violet and her assistant, Alex, were on the other side of the suite surveying Karina’s many dress options for the night. They stood in front of a rack of gowns that they’d selected after a fitting earlier that month. Karina was voluptuous, with big boobs and shapely hips, and she loved showing off her figure. She’d been that way since she was a college student in Pennsylvania who uploaded her rap freestyles to YouTube. Violet was often invited to the showrooms of top high-fashion designers who specifically wanted Karina to be seen donning their clothes.
Violet pulled two dresses off the rack: a floor-length Versace leopard-print gown with a thigh-high slit and a rose gold LaQuan Smith corset minidress. Alex snapped a few photographs for Violet's archives. Alex was soft-spoken, and a hard worker. With her pixie cut and serious personality, she reminded Violet of her older sister, Iris. She'd met Alex at a FIDM career fair and had hired her as soon as she graduated last spring. Sometimes, Violet felt like she'd lose her head from her shoulders if Alex wasn't there to help her.
After Alex took more photos, then uploaded them to her laptop, Violet brought the dresses over to Karina once she ended her Instagram Live.
"Okay, so what are we feeling tonight?" Violet shouted over the music. She held up the dresses side by side. The plan was for Karina to walk the red carpet with the other celebrities who were invited to the casino's opening, and later she'd have a section at the club inside the casino. "I was thinking the Versace for the red carpet and the LaQuan Smith for the club."
Karina handed her cell phone to her assistant, Edwin, and turned toward Violet to view the dresses.
"Feel free to weigh in," Violet said to Brian, Karina's hairstylist, and Melody, her makeup artist.
"It's giving jungle queen," Brian said, pointing at the Versace dress. He took a moment to dab a little gold shimmer from one of Melody's makeup brushes onto his dark brown cheeks.
"What?" Violet scowled at him. "Do not come for my taste, Brian! This dress is bomb."
"It can be cute and jungle queen at the same time."
Violet huffed and looked at Melody. "Mel, what do you think?"
Melody kept her eyes on her makeup brushes and pulled her silky black hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. "Don't drag me into this. I like both. Karina will look good regardless."
"I know that's right," Karina said. "I'm always on the best-dressed lists at the end of the night, okay? Vi, Versace for the red carpet and LaQuan Smith for the club is perfect. Brian's just salty because somebody on my Live said he looked like a bootleg John Boyega."
Violet snorted and looked at Brian. "Oh my God, you do kind of look like him! Why have I never noticed this?"
Copyright © 2024 by Kristina Forest. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
