Syncopated Rhythm (18 page)

I caught myself glancing at her iPad from time to time.  I wasn’t getting anywhere anyway.  I checked the time, it was way past lunch and approaching dinnertime.  I called for room service then glanced at her tablet again.  I shook myself then went back to researching her online.

My willpower finally broke.  I timidly picked up her iPad and looked at it like it were something sacred.  I sat back on the bed staring at it.  I hit the home button and the screen sprang to life.  I sighed in relief, she didn't use a pass code.

I was about to start looking around on the tablet when I was startled by a knock at the door. 
Jesus!
I dropped the iPad quickly on the bed like it was on fire, then made my way to the door.  I took the tray and tipped the man.  Then chuckled at myself for my jumpiness, once I sat back on the bed.

I munched on the chef's salad I had ordered and kept looking at her tablet.  I finished eating then purposely ignored her tablet and grabbed the TV remote.  It was almost time for the news.  I turned on the TV and went to a local channel and took off my wig to let down my hair and let my scalp breathe.

With a certain degree of silliness, I flopped back onto the bed and my head hit the pillow... with a crinkle?  I sat up and pulled the bedspread down to reveal a note on my pillow with Kylee's signature at the bottom.

I swear my heart forgot how to beat.  For some reason I was terrified as to what the note might contain.  I didn't want her to think that 'we' were a bad idea.  I stilled myself and gathered the courage, then started to read.

[Amber Lee, I'm so sorry that the shadow of improprieties has tarnished your name with Art in Motion.  I hope you can forgive me.  You are such a wonderful, smart, exciting, funny, and intelligent woman.  I know there are great things in store for you in the future.  But please, do one thing for me, do not be afraid to be yourself.  To show the world who you are and stand proudly.  I know you cannot see it, but Amber Lee is the person you were destined to be.  The one I hold dear in my heart.  You just need to show the world, Cornfed.  Your friend and keeper, Kylee Marilyn Nelson]

My eyes were welling up.  I must have read the note ten times before I held it to my forehead, took a deep breath, then folded it gently and slid it into my purse.

Suddenly I was mad and I couldn't tell you why.  I didn't understand half the emotions that were swirling around inside me.  I looked at her iPad and snatched it up and hit the home button and looked for the applications she used for her work.

I sifted through the folders and found one for the charity album.  I looked at all the titles, there were two for every artist and two for the group number.  The first being the original storyboards and the second being her tweaks.  I noticed that my name was conspicuously absent from the folder.

I clicked on the group presentation and watched the original concept, then I watched her concept right after it.  I got a unique point of view this time, as her personal notes were displayed on a layer on top of the presentation.  I saw an icon that looked like a sticky note and experimentally clicked it and her notes vanished and I clicked it again and they were back.

I went back to the original and played it with her notes visible.  For each cutaway to individual artists, she had notes like “Max is a country boy at heart, we should lose the modern wardrobe and substitute a more down home feeling outfit.”  or  “Miranda is a trickster with a wicked sense of humor, she should start the mock snowball fight.”  Her personal notes on each of us were spot on with our personalities.  I smiled a little, she had a knack for seeing into the heart of people.

I totally forgot about the news.  Instead I kicked off my shoes and curled into a comfortable sitting position and started to watch every presentation and Kylee's tweaks in marathon style.

My god!
  It absolutely floored me how she was taking these average music video ideas and with minor modifications that played to the strengths and personalities of each artist, turning each one into a memorable and emotional work of art.  There was no doubt in my mind that she had what it took to make her dream a reality.

When I finished, my heart ached a little because she had done nothing with the concept for my video.  I poked around in some of the other folders, one was marked “rejected”.  I opened it and saw some of the past projects she had made modifications to and submitted to the producers.  I watched every presentation.  With few exceptions, I liked Ky's ideas better than what was shot.

Then I hesitated on a folder marked 'Personal'.  I looked around like I was checking to make sure nobody was watching.  I know, stupid, but I really felt bad snooping around like this.  But everything I saw just made me understand that marvelous red headed imp better.  She was amazing!  I closed my eyes as I tapped the icon for the folder.

There were a few files on personal projects and potential screenplays, and one labeled 'Mom' and one 'Private – My Eyes Only'.  I smiled knowing what was in the 'Mom' folder.  I tapped it and there was the presentation and all sorts of assets.  I was curious and looked through the photos.  I stopped at one I had to giggle at.  It must have been Ky's bedroom, she looked like a teenager, maybe seventeen.

Her back was to the camera and she was apparently singing into a hairbrush.  Her mother must have shot this candid pic.  A lump formed in my throat when I noticed a poster on her wall.  It was me, the year of the Karaoke Queen competition.  Mandy Fay Harris had pulled me aside after the competition and told me she loved the fun and excitement I put into my singing and even though I didn't win the competition, she wanted to produce an album with me.  That's kind of where “Amber LaLanie” was born.

Mandy was scary insightful like Kylee is.  She had told me on many occasions not to hide myself away, that our scars make us beautiful.  That woman is a certifiable force of nature.

I looked through all the photos, more often than not, I caught myself smiling.  Then I went back and stared at the 'Private – My Eyes Only' folder.  I spoke out loud to myself, “Sorry Potato, but I've already dug this deep.”  I tapped the folder and the conceptual presentations for my video for the charity album were there and tons of assets.  Dozens of photos and video clips, hundreds of audio clips of me.

I watched the original concept for my video.  It was decent, this one, like the others had notes.  But unlike the others that had a dozen or so notes, mine had hundreds!  They were literally everywhere. “No, no, no!  Get rid of the risque wardrobe.  Amber is not selling her body here she is sharing the fun and emotion she can evoke from the words of the song!”  Or, “Don't they even pay attention to her personality?  This scene is too harsh, Amber should be bouncing on her tiptoes here as the lyrics hit crescendo.”  One hit hard, “This portion needs to focus on her eyes.  There is a pain down inside of them that she heals with the playfulness of the music.  Capture that!”

I put a hand over my mouth.  Dammit.  I'm tearing up again.  When it was over I hovered my finger over her conceptual file I saw the 'For Me Only' appended to the file name.

I clicked it and found myself speechless.  I listened to my own voice speaking, repeating words I had only shared with her, over the intro.  The entire thing was animated like I was watching an actual music video.  What I saw brought happy memories rushing back into my mind. 
My God, that was the fun dance I caught her doing the other day!
  I was crying now, and it wasn't because of the video itself but because of how I was drawn throughout it.  It was Amber Lee there taking center stage, not Amber LaLanie.

I shut the iPad off and took a deep breath in determination.  I
WAS NOT
going to be the cause of her not realizing her dreams.  I could do one thing for her, and I knew exactly what to do, and there was only one person with the power to help me do what needed to be done.

I grabbed my cell and hit speed dial two.  A moment later I said, “Hi, Mandy?”

“
Kylee?  Can you clear the tables while I man the line?”  Millie asked sweetly.  I smiled at her and nodded.  She was such an awesome lady, she didn't even ask any questions when I had asked for my job back at Millie's Espresso Barn.  She just said, “Of course sweetie.” She added my name to the schedule while I was sitting there.  I have always liked her, she reminds me a lot of mom.

I had packed up my belongings from the company funded apartment the day I was fired.  The day all my dreams came crumbling down around me.  There was a hole in my heart where Amber belonged, but I was already tarnishing her reputation, I didn't need to drag her down with me.  She deserved better.  I left my keys and the company credit card on the counter as I left.

I didn't know where I was going I just drove on auto pilot.  Of course I wasn't surprised to find myself back in Post Falls around two in the morning. 
Where else would I go?
  But I didn't even have a home here and I had no money.  I slept in Baltar and in the morning, after visiting with Mom, I headed into Spokane and sold a bunch of my comic books and collectibles.

I couldn't live in a car, but until I had enough money for first month's rent and a damage deposit, I didn't really have a choice.  At least now I had money for food and gas and a motel room for a couple days.  I met with Millie that night and she gave my old job back.

With a heavy heart I put a for sale sign on my Gremlin while I worked my first shift.  Even beat to crap and barely running, he was worth a minimum of three grand, So I was asking twenty five hundred for a quick sale.  Funny that one of the two most mocked cars in US history is now considered a “classic” and now in demand.  But hey, at least Baltar wasn't a Pacer.

I wound up trading his pink slip to a guy later that day for two thousand cash.  Frigging cheapskate knew I was desperate for money and took advantage of me.

The next day I rented a room on the outskirts of town closest to Terrace Ridge.  It was just a quarter mile walk to there or to work so it was ideally situated though it was pretty run down, but it was what I could afford on my salary and tips.  It was a pain in the butt hauling my belongings one box at a time between the motel and the apartment.  Millie had let me take the afternoon off to move in.

These had been the toughest two weeks of my life.  That thought snapped me back to the present as I wiped down the tables and cleared away the cups.

Tomorrow was Thanksgiving.  I smiled a little knowing Amber wouldn't be alone for it, Sammie would make sure of that.  It all just seemed like a dream to me now.  Meeting and befriending all those famous people.  But that's really all it was, a dream, an illusion, I didn't belong in their world.

I got back to the counter and took over for Millie taking coffee orders.  I almost snorted at myself since this was the farthest I progressed in my film career, too, 'coffee girl'.  I shrugged to myself and took the next order.  I glanced back at Millie. “I can work the open to close shift tomorrow, I have no place to be.  We close at noon tomorrow anyway.”

She gave me a sad smile and said, “Thanks hon.” I turned back to finish making an espresso for my customer.

A little later that afternoon a man came in and was staring at me from the doorway for a minute.  He was looking at something on his phone then at me, like he was comparing something.  Then he smiled and walked up to the counter.  I gave my 'service' smile.  “What can I get for you sir?”

He said, “Ah good, it is you.”  He pulled out a recorder and asked, “Babette, I was wondering if I could ask a few questions about...”

I cut him off.  Damn.  This is the second reporter to have found me since I was fired.  I didn't need them screwing up my life any further.  “I'm sorry sir, but if you aren't going to order something, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.  I have other customers waiting to order.”

He started up again but Millie had seen this unfolding and came chugging over like a freight train. “Kylee, could you get some napkins for me from the back?  I'll help this customer.”  Her voice could have frozen the sun as she said 'this customer'.  Oooo that sounds like a Doctor Who episode.

I shot her a look of thanks and escaped to the back room.  Tears were threatening. 
No, I won't be a victim of my own life!  I decide who can make me feel bad, not them!
  I grabbed a package of napkins and marched right back out.  I defiantly restocked the napkin holders, shooting daggers from my eyes at the reporter while Millie escorted him to the door.

She tilted her head at me and snorted.  “Easy there warrior princess.  We need those things in working order.”  She winked as I realized I was just jamming the napkins into the holders.  I blushed and she took over and I went to help the next customer.  I looked back at her, grinning at her Xena reference.

We closed down at seven and before I left, Millie said, “Oh wait Kylee, this came here today but it was addressed to you.”  She handed me an envelope and I froze.  The return address was to Mandy Fay Harris with Harmony Trax.  Dammit.  Just what I need is to have her pissed at me too.

I smiled a smile I didn't feel.  “Thank Mil.  You have a good time with your family tomorrow. Happy Thanksgiving.”

She reached over and placed a hand on my arm and gave it a little squeeze.  “Will do.  I'll see you on Friday hon.”  I nodded with a smile I did feel this time, and bundled up for the walk to my apartment.