Kiss the Girl (29 page)

“
Oh,
God
.
  Really?
”  Mary Jane looked pained
, and turned to Erik
.  “
You’ll have to
do
it
.”

Erik blinked.  “Me?”

“Him?” Nixie asked.

“
Well it can’t be me
.”  Mary Jane
shook her head.  “I get hives when I talk to reporters.  And you can stop looking at me like that,” she told Erik.  “You know it’s true.”

Erik laced his fingers together on top of his head and blew
out a breath.  “Yeah, I know.”

Karl leaned forward
.  “We don’t need to do something so elaborate, Dr.
Riley
,” he said.  “If it suits you better, we can
certainly d
o something less intense.”

“Less intense means less money,” Nixie said
again
. 

“It also means less time and less press,” Karl said, smiling at Mary Jane.  “Nixie’s a pretty potent donor draw.  I’m sure we’ll keep manage to keep the lights on for you.”

Nixie’s
pleading
eyes met Erik
’
s
, and he sighed.  If it was just a matter of disappointing Nixie, that would be one thing.  But this advisor of hers was steamrolling her with an efficiency and precision that suggested years of practice, and Erik didn’t like it.  He gave Karl an oily smile and said, “
I’ll handle the press for Mary Jane
.”

“You will?”  Nixie’s head shot up and she gazed at him with such radiant gratitude that Erik smiled at her.  He couldn’t help it.  She smiled back and something hard and twisted in his gut smoothed out.  He’d done the right thing. 
Now it was just a matter of keeping his hands as virtuous as his intentions
.

“Yeah,” he said.  “I will.  But don’t abuse it.  I’m not a huge fan of the media myself.
”

“You’re strictly 911,” Nix
ie assured him, beaming.  “I’ll do as much as I can myself
.”

“
You’d better,” he sa
id.  He turned to Karl
.  “Looking forw
ard to working with you
.”

“Likewise,” Karl said, but
his
eyes were sharp and
hostile
behind his glasses.  Erik’s skin went a little tight.  Jesus, he thought.  Who
is
this guy?  Karl
reached out for a handshake.  Erik was startled to see a tattoo running along his inner forearm
, just below his rolled back sleeve
. 
Two r
ows
of tiny numbers
and letters
.  He forced his eyes back to Karl’s, took the older man’s hand and shook it briefly.

“You’re
working
tomorrow
?” he asked Nixie.

“Yeah.”

“
I am, too
.
  Give me an update then.
”  He turned and headed for the door, suddenly desperate to get out of the
clinic
.  There was something so strangling, so claustrophobic
in the air between Nixie and her advisor. 
He couldn’t breath
e
. 

He had one f
oot on the sidewalk
before he
stopped
.  He closed his eyes and
ran a weary palm down his face
.

He’d forgotten M
ary Jane
.   

Nixie watched Erik stalk silently back into the room, take Mary Jane’s arm and shepherd her out the door.  Nixie shook her head.  She would never lie again.  Not if punishment was always this swift and unflinching.  Not that
it was the first time a guy had gone
right from kissing her to another woman’s arms, especially not after he’d seen the people she kept company with.  But still.

She turned back to Karl
who was
watching her in silent approbation. 

“You heard the man,” she said.
 
“
Let’s have something for him by
tomorrow
.”  She picked up her cell phone and started to scroll through the stored numbers.

Karl stilled her hands with one of his and ran a critical eye
over her
.
“
Maybe you should start with
a haircut and a facial
first
,”
he said
.
 
“
You look a little...rough
.”

“Oh, come on.  It’s not
that
bad.” 
Nixie put a stealthy hand to her hair to assess the mayhem.  She
flattened a particularly wild curl.  It
sproinged
back into place with a happy bounce.  “Is it?”

“You could use a little trim.”

Nixie folded her arms.  “I don’t want a
hair cut
.  I want to
work
.”

“A haircut
is
work
, Nixie
. 
You’re a brand, remember?  If people don’t admire you, they don’t give us the money to change the world.
  You want to change the world, don’t you?
”

“
Not all of it
,” Nixie said.
  “Just this little corner.”

“Start with your hair.”

She sighed. “Okay, fine.  But tonight we work.”

“Tonight we work.”

CHAPTER SIX
TEEN

By Friday, Nixie’s hair looked great.  DC had transformed itself, too.  Gone was the punishing wind, the half-frozen raindrops, the steely sky.  Suddenly, the sun beamed and the breeze
bounced by,
full of the scent of cherry blossoms.  Even the graffiti looked cheerful, Nixie thought as she stood in the alley behind the clinic.  Kind of bright and festive and exuberant. 

“Nixie!”  Wanda stuck her head out the door.  “What are you doing out here?  Missy Jensen from Channel Four is standing in the waiting room!”

“Did you know that your hair matches this graffiti exactly?”

Wanda touched her hair and glanced at the wall.  “That says Fuck
Da
Police.”

“I meant in color, not in spirit.”

“
Mmmm
-hmmm.”  Wanda gave her a skeptical look.  “Well, listen, unless you want Mama Mel going on about cheap-ass carpet and cockroach shit to Missy Jensen, you’ll get moving.”

“I just wanted a minute to gather myself,” she said.  But she got moving.  “I figured you could handle Mama Mel,” she said, as she trotted behind Wanda’s rolling behind.  “She’s about as big around as a chop stick.”

“She’s wiry.  You’ve got to respect that.  Besides, I’m not dressed to wrestle on national TV.”

“I’m sure it’s just local.”  Nixie eyed the straining seams of her uniform pants.  “And I think you’re dressed to wrestle just fine.”

Wanda shot her a warning look over her shoulder.  “Girl, you are wasting my time.  Now get your skinny butt into that waiting room and do your thing.”

“Right.” 

Nixie paused at the door to the waiting room, scanned the scene as if it were a field of landmines.  She made her living walking into crowds of strangers who knew everything about her.  Maybe they hated her, maybe they loved her.  She never knew until it was too late to do anything about it.   As far as stressful occupations went, she suppose
d jumping blindfolded out of
airplane
s
might
be worse.  But not by much.

Nixie spotted a petite
blonde
woman in front of a camera reviewing notes while her camera man checked the light levels.  Missy Jensen, Nixie assumed, as nobody else in the room came equipped with her own camera man.  Expertly streaked hair kicked a
round her Miss Kansas face in a cute,
choppy shag
as
she licked
her teeth behind glossy lips.
 
Probably prepping for a long stint of professional smiling. 
The camera man made a comment and the woman rewarded him with what looked like a genuinely amused grin.  So either she wasn’t a cut-throat shrew, or she was too smart to alienate the help.  No way to tell from here.  She’d have to wing it.  

Nixie slid through the waiting room doors, sticking to the perimeter of the room until she’d circled around behind the camera man.  She watched as Missy Jensen ran through several intros.  The woman radiated an unusual combination of ambition and compassion, brains and sex appeal.  She was young, probably Nixie’s age, give or take a few years, but she was going places.  The question was, what would she do or who would she screw to get there?

The million-watt light from the camera snapped off, and Missy Jensen blinked at Nixie.  “Nixie Leighton-Brace?” she asked.

“Missy Jensen?”

Missy strode forward on ice-pick heels that matched her peacock-blue suit.  “It’s an honor to meet you in person, Ms. Leighton-Brace,” she said.  “I’ve followed your work since I was a little girl.”

“Since
I
was a little girl, then.”

“That’s right.  I was thrilled to get
your call
.  This is a wonderful cause, of course, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit how much I appreciate the exclusive.”

“
I
have faith in the power of personal connection,” Nixie said.  “From what I’ve seen
so far, you’re a good fit
.  Are you ready to take the next step?”

“Always.”  Missy’s glossy mouth curved in anticipation. 

Nixie couldn’t help grinning back.  “Great. I have somebody I’d like you to meet.  Follow me.”

Missy made
you’re with me
eyes at her camera man and they fell in behind Nixie.  She picked her way through the crowd.  It was thicker than usual
--
word that the press was coming had spread through the neighborhood faster than the flu. 

“Hey, white lady!”

Nixie turned and found Darryl the Flasher grinning at her.  He’d put on basketball shorts in deference to the summery weather, and though he looked sober, Nixie couldn’t see him resisting the opportunity to offer Missy Jensen some good loving.