Every Pearl Has Its Oyster (9 page)

“What it is,” Cliff answered calmly. “Is your new persona.” He clicked his remote once more so that Queen Bee’s initials flashed over the photoshopped image. “Q.B. That would be your new artist name. It’s sexier, bolder and a better match for your restructured look.” He gestured at Gemma’s outfit. “This… couture. It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t shock anymore.”

Gemma narrowed her eyes. “Why do I need to shock anyone?”

With another click of the remote, Romy’s image appeared on the wall. She snarled at the camera in a bikini covered in shards of mirror, which reflected the leopard print of her wig. “So you can outsell her,” Cliff replied simply. “If you can out-sex and out-edge her, you can outsell her.”

“This will repel my fans, I know them. And they know me. You can’t be serious.”

Cliff didn’t flinch. “But I am. Like a heart attack.”

Gemma shook her head in total disgust. Her cheeks aflame, she turned on her heel to walk without a word out the door.

“Bee, wait,” Cliff’s voice called after her.

She reluctantly stopped at the door, turning to hear what he had to say. Perhaps they’d been bluffing. Perhaps they didn’t have the gall to force such a stupid, radical change upon her after all. She placed a hand on her hip and cocked an expectant eyebrow at Cliff, waiting for him to speak.

“Bee… we need you to change into a different outfit for the remainder of the party. What you’re wearing is entirely inappropriate.”

Before he had even finished his sentence, Gemma was back out the door. With Andro behind her, she found her way back down the winding stairs as she boiled with fury. Right, ‘cause I’m the one dressed inappropriately at this party, Gemma thought bitterly, looking down at the outfit she’d chosen.

It was a pearlescent dress that boasted a bodice of caviar beads and a full-bodied skirt of microscopic pleats and ruffles, which created the look of a coral reef wrapped around her thighs. It was a design that Gemma had sketched at the beach house in Malibu and sent to New York to have made. Armand had returned the sketch back in a box with the dress, along with a note that read: My goodness, Bee! You are trying to take my job, yes? I would be intimidated my love, if it weren’t for the fact that I taught you all that you know about fashion (this is at least what I tell myself, especially when I am drinking wine). Xx, Armand. P.S. Wear this masterpiece as a statement!

Heeding his advice, Gemma had decided that her lavish sponsor dinner would be a good place to debut the elegant design, but that was before realizing the event had been turned into an X-rated burlesque show.

Now she thought it was the perfect place to debut it. Though the décor of the party didn’t, Gemma’s dress still screamed Queen Bee. It was exactly who she was and exactly what Oro hated.

“Hey, how’d it go? They didn’t execute you?”

At the bottom of the steps was Tyler, a big smile on his face. It faded though upon detecting Gemma’s fury.

“In a way,” she answered, walking into his outstretched arms. As they headed back to the VIP area, he kept his head bent down towards her, dutifully listening to her rant about Cliff’s proposal for Q.B.

“But that doesn’t sound too bad.” Tyler shrugged when she finished. Gemma wanted to shoot daggers at him but refrained.

“Why not?” she asked, stopping outside of the balcony door to get his answer first. “They’re trying to tell me who to be, and even if it were something less stupid than a freaky shock artist, I wouldn’t be interested in being anything other than myself.”

Tyler stuck his hands in the pockets of the beat up jeans he’d probably borrowed from set. “I know, I just meant that… it’s not necessarily a bad idea to grow as an artist. I’m definitely trying to.”

Gemma stared blankly for a moment, unsure if her career was in any way comparable to his. He’d at least chosen his new path. She rubbed her temples. “I… whatever,” she said, forcing a laugh. “I just need a drink right now.”

“Okay. But I feel like I should tell you Madison’s in there.” Tyler nodded at the door leading to the VIP balcony. Gemma instinctively backed away from it, shaking her head with confusion.

“Why?”

“The entire cast of Carbine is on the guest list, which I guess you have me to thank for. I’m sorry, babe,” Tyler winced. Gemma tried to let her sigh out inaudibly.

“It’s okay. I’m… just going to go downstairs for a bit.”

Flanked by security, Gemma entered the main room of the party, a burst of coral colored ruffles amid the sea of black leather. From across the room, she could see Perrin headed for her, a garment bag draped over her forearm. Suspecting that it held some sort of ridiculous costume change, Gemma turned and headed in the opposite direction. She exhaled with relief when she saw Damian at the bar with his friends, looking overdressed but sharp in a slim-fit navy suit and tie. Upon spotting her, he hopped right off his stool to make a beeline over. Before even exchanging words, he held his drink out to her. She took it and practically chugged.

“Something told me you needed it,” he said.

“You don’t even know.”

“Well.” He squinted. “I might. Part of it, at least.” The lines between his eyebrows creased. “Which brings me to my question – why didn’t you tell me about Madison getting the part in Tyler’s movie? I heard on TV.” He half-smiled, half-grimaced at himself. “And then I almost threw my shoe at it.”

Gemma laughed. “I just… I don’t know, I figured you were busy,” she answered, though it was more so that she’d felt slightly awkward about Tyler’s rudeness towards him at Zoe’s premiere. “Besides, I think I’ve whined about Madison to you enough to last a lifetime. So for the sake of your sanity, I’d say you’re off the hook.” He shook his head.

“No, I’m always here for you. Doesn’t matter what it’s about,” Damian said. “For example, right now,” he laughed, taking her hand to guide her a few yards over. He nodded for Andro and James to follow suit, which to Gemma’s delight, they did, clearing out room for them to walk. “I’m here for you because your manager’s been trying to get over here our entire conversation and she looks… scary. And kind of pissed.”

Gemma laughed and groaned at the same time, glancing over her shoulder to see Perrin practically stomping her skinny heeled feet as she tried to maneuver through the crowd. “Ugh, God. I think I need to just get out of here and be home now.”

“Let’s go. I’ll drive you.”

“Not before my label murders you,” Gemma snorted. She heaved a huge sigh. “It’s just Oro… they’re forcing me to ditch Queen Bee and be – ” She waved her fingers in the air for effect. “ – Q.B. Which I guess is her alter-alter ego who wears like, studded bras and leather trenchcoats and carries around a mic that doubles as a sex toy.” Damian burst out laughing. “See? That was my reaction too. But they’re serious. And Perrin and even Tyler don’t see anything wrong with it.”

Damian frowned. “Really?” As he pondered it, he casually walked Gemma another few yards away. She laughed as she listened to Perrin’s shouts decrescendo-ing behind her.

“Yes, really. Your thoughts?”

“You can’t do it,” he answered simply. The quick reply instantly relieved her.

“I thought that too. It’s ridiculous, right?”

He nodded, tilting his head at her. “And remember the day you called me to your old house in Sunset Hills in February? The day you missed Beauford and you were…”

“Borderline psychotic and having an identity crisis?” Gemma finished the sentence for him, sheepish at the memory. Earlier in the year, at the peak of her drama, she’d returned to the house that her stalker had broken into, only to retrieve a gift that had been sent there from Lucas, her last boyfriend in high school. Alone, she’d realized how much she missed Beauford, and how little she remembered of Gemma Hunter. With high school over, her life was solely Queen Bee, and Queen Bee’s life at that time was nothing but chaos. It seemed hardly worth losing Gemma Hunter for. Overwhelmed with those thoughts, she’d broken down and called Damian, her fellow Beauford native and the only person who could possibly understand.

“I don’t think I’d ever seen you more lost.”

Gemma cringed. “Which is saying something, considering you knew me in high school,” she laughed softly. He smiled.

“Well, with everything that’s happened since the Elizabeth incident… you’ve definitely come a long way from not knowing who you are,” he said, his gaze lifting to meet hers though instead, it slid past her shoulder and no doubt at Perrin. Gemma could hear her angry footsteps nearing. Damian swallowed. “Anyway, it’d be a shame for you to let anyone tell you who you are when you only just figured it out yourself. It was a long way to where you’re at now, and you worked for every bit of the peace that you finally have, so don’t let them mess with it.”

“Exactly. Thanks,” Gemma smiled. “I won’t let them,” she added, right before Perrin’s cold, angry hands yanked her away. As her high-heeled feet struggled to keep up with Perrin’s pace, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure, standing at a distance. How long had he been standing there?

Tyler’s eyes flickered from Gemma to Damian before casting his gaze downward at his drink. With a quick motion, he brought the glass to his lips and emptied it.

~

In the windowless powder room that Perrin had dragged Gemma into, the garment bag hung open on the back of the door. Inside was a mess of spiked leather belts that were shoddily sewn together to form what Perrin claimed was a dress.

“The sponsors were supposed to see you in this, not that,” she said, nodding at Gemma’s coral dress with annoyance. “So what I need you to do now is take off what you’re wearing and change because Cliff promised everyone that they’d be seeing Q.B today.” She removed the hanger from the garment bag and shoved it into Gemma’s arms. “Not Queen Bee or Gemma Hunter.”

Gemma stared down at the monstrosity. There were so many gaps and holes between the belts that she was certain it was a wardrobe malfunction just waiting to happen. “I’m not even wearing a bra right now, Perrin. My boobs and ass are going to be hanging out of this thing,” she said flatly.

“It’s okay, Cliff doesn’t care.”

Gemma glowered. “And Cliff is the only one that matters when it comes to my body?” she asked tartly.

“Yes.”

Wow. Gemma stared emptily at the wall, at the big pretentious portrait of someone’s chapped lips. “Fine. I’ll change,” she surrendered. “But you need to leave the room.”

“Nice try. I leave the room and you come back out wearing the same thing you’ve got on now. Put the dress on in front of me.”

“Perrin, aren’t you degrading me enough?” Gemma gave an incredulous look. “Besides, after the second ambush you just put me through, you need to give me space to breathe for a second. Stand outside the door if you’re so paranoid.”

Her arms crossed, Perrin stared hard for another few seconds. “Fine,” she relented. “But know that I will be standing outside the door. With Andro. And James, by the way, who is more scared of me than he is of you.”

“That’s awesome. Okay, bye.” Gemma waved to Perrin as she exited the room. The moment the door shut, she locked it and then went straight for the stupid photograph of the lips. Perhaps it was large enough to block Perrin from seeing that it was hanging on a door to an adjacent room. Though it was locked, the door swung open with a few hard yanks. Tossing the ugly belt dress to the floor, Gemma slipped into the next room, smiling at the sight of an awning window with a view out into the alley beside the venue.

After a minute of careful shimmying so as to not catch her dress, Gemma tumbled out into the dim alley, too pleased with herself for tricking Perrin to even care about her scraped knees. She bounded down the narrow path towards the back of the building, though she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw someone turning into the corner.

“Gemma?”

The figure crept closer to her. Gemma squinted, though not for long since she could recognize that shimmery blonde mane anywhere, in any lighting. “Madison,” she grumbled, the buzz from her escape instantly fizzling and dying at the sight of Madison and how annoyingly good she looked in her little black dress. “Why are you out here?” Gemma asked with annoyance.

“Oh. Um.” Madison held up a cigarette, looking embarrassed. “Smoke break. I didn’t want anyone to see.”

Gemma narrowed her eyes. “Why would anyone care?”

“I don’t know.” Madison looked down at the cigarette, which she twiddled with in her hands. “I… don’t want to ruin whatever image I have. Or am going to have. I don’t know.”

Gemma wanted to scoff and tell her that she wasn’t even famous yet, but she was too focused on trying to get out of the alley and back home somehow. “Cool. Well, gotta go,” she said curtly, brushing past Madison.

“Wait.” Madison grabbed Gemma’s arm but released it when Gemma looked down at it as if it’d been spit on. “Sorry. I just… there are paparazzi down there,” she said. She winced. “Kind of mean ones.”

“That’s most of them.”

“Right, of course. Thanks. But, um, if you’re trying to bail, you’re not gonna be able to wearing that totally conspicuous dress – which is crazy gorgeous, by the way.” Madison paused, laughing to herself. “It reminds me of the stuff Leah would freak out over when we were in high school and we’d all be looking at pictures of you in like, Us Weekly. I mean, not that we knew it was you back then.”

Gemma stared at Madison. Was she really trying to wax nostalgic to win her over? Was that going to be the angle of her little act? Gemma couldn’t figure it out, but whatever Madison was doing, she was unfortunately right about her one-of-a-kind dress being too conspicuous to sneak away in. Damn it, now what? Gemma thought.

Madison gave a hopeful look. “I can lend you my dress if you want.” Gemma cocked an eyebrow.

Within seconds, she was pushing an almost pathetically compliant Madison through the same awning window she’d escaped from. They went back through the adjacent door and into the powder room, where Perrin was impatiently pounding on the door. Shit. Without a thought, Gemma unzipped her coral dress and let it fall to the floor, stepping out of the puddle of ruffles and covering her chest with her hands before opening the door a crack.