A Half Dozen Fools (24 page)

"Yeah, but I'm their only makeup artist."

Carla glanced toward the door, then back at Elyse. "I don't know exactly what they talking about in there. But I heard Judy say she can run the retail desk all by herself, and they can close Sunday and Monday for the summer."

"So, what? Are you saying my job's in jeopardy? Or they're just going to cut back my hours?"

"I don't know,
preciosa
. I'm just saying... I see them do things before. You know?"

"Like, let the makeup artist go?"

Before Carla could respond, the office door cracked open. Elyse flinched on reflex. A surge of fear tore through her midriff, and she rushed back to her studio.

On the way, she overheard Judy say, "Well, let's see what happens through the end of the week."

Inside her studio, Elyse decided to set up for business-as-usual. She laid out her brushes across a purple cloth on top of the counter. After making sure the containers were all filled with tissue, swabs, and cotton pads, she retouched her own makeup in the mirror. With everything set to go, she put on a cheery face and strode out to the retail counter.

Judy was wiping her bottom lip with the back of her hand when Elyse appeared. She turned and stuck something into a pocket of her long skirt.

Business as usual.

Elyse feigned perkiness to hide her anxiety. "How's it going, Judy? Everything all right with you?"

"Morning, Elyse. Fine, thanks."

"Cool. I think I'll make some phone calls this morning."

"Good idea--since we have no appointments so far today."

"Well, let's see if we can get some bodies in here then."

As she flipped through the Rolodex, she fought increasing resentment at having to rev up business all by herself, all the time, when it made sense for Rod and Judy to help out. She would have welcomed their support in making phone calls, or advertising, or doing whatever it was that successful owners did. Speaking to disinterested women she'd called a dozen times before, with nothing new to offer, again and again, filled her with despair.

For the rest of that day and the rest of the week, Elyse found herself increasingly frustrated by a lack of interest from ladies in coming to the Make-Up Place. As a result, she was earning less than ever, too.

On the upside of life were her emails shared with Keb. He'd settled back into his place and was busy with meetings. He was consumed with the production script and shooting schedule. His guys were scouting locations he'd later travel out to see. Elyse didn't want to sound like sour grapes or distract him with her problems, so she'd keep their conversations positive and upbeat, both on the phone and through their emails.

While insisting all was well in her world, however, she was in fact worried about the work front, staving off panic attacks every day.

The weekend of July Fourth, the air in Manhattan hung balmy and melancholy. Of course, if Elyse had been leaving for her family picnic in Connecticut instead of going to work, the city would probably have reflected more an air of summer fun. But earlier in the week Rod had insisted tourists in town would make it worthwhile to stay open. So Elyse promised her family she'd be in on the Metro-North train first thing the next morning.

On her way to work, the empty streets dampened whatever hope remained for doing any real business. Elyse figured most New Yorkers had left the concrete canyon to spend the weekend along the shoreline or up in the mountains, or even at casinos.

When she passed the copy shop, she noted the "Closed" sign on its door.
How lucky for its employees!
A powerful longing for Keb accompanied this thought, and she almost burst into tears.

Why is it you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?

When she approached the Make-Up Place, she was surprised to see both Rod and Judy through the window. Both Hoffenzimmers in today?
This ought to be fun
, she thought with disdain.

The Make-Up Place interior was as empty as the streets. In spite of the heat outside, an icy ambience chilled the air inside. When Elyse's cheery, "Good morning" was met by a terse greeting from Rod and a quiet, "He-ey" from Judy, she knew something was up.

Elyse looked around. "Is Carla not working today?"

"No," Judy answered blandly, "she's off."

Rod cleared his throat. Elyse sensed disaster, but smiled anyway.

"Elyse," he began, "we need to, uh, have a talk here today."

Elyse glanced at Judy who started cleaning countertops with a vengeance.

Rod continued. "So, let me ask you, something, Elyse. How many appointments did you book this week? Were you able to get any of your old customers in from Lady Borghella's, over at Black's?"

Elyse burned at being so blatantly put on the spot. "Well, no, not exactly, Rod. I did get hold of a couple of our customers this week. But, not from Borghella's--no. I got a few in when I first started here, but after that..."

"But I thought you had all these rich customers from when you worked there? Didn't you say that during your interview? Didn't you promise to bring in all these ladies from when you worked over at Black's before?"

Elyse hedged defensively. "I'm not sure I actually
promised
I could get them here... I mean, I've certainly called them, even got a few to come in and try our line. Actually, I think Dylan might have promised more of what I could do when he brought me in."

Elyse glanced at Judy for support, since Judy had seen her on the phone all week calling customers. But Judy wouldn't look at her now.

Rod continued. "Well, as you know, we've been having a heck of a time making ends meet here. We're in a major financial crunch this year. I've made it pretty clear we need to get some new business in if we want to go on."

Elyse's eyebrows rose defensively. "I've been doing all I can, Rod. I go through the files and call people religiously. I've even cold-called names in the phone book."

"Yes, but we need
new
business
," Rod emphasized.

So, Elyse thought, Rod is trying to blame
me
for their lousy numbers!
Oh, this is rich.

In fact, Elyse had gotten former Borghella customers over to her new digs and shown them the Make-Up Place line when she first started. Over time, however, she discovered her new products were no match for those of the venerable Italian house of beauty. The Borghella fragrance, skin care and cosmetics line ultimately won out over the Make-Up Place, with its high-end appeal and pretty, pricey packaging. Plus, there was no fighting Borghella's free gift with purchase. Elyse had done her damnedest to sell prior customers any and everything she could for the Hoffenzimmers, but, in the end, she had to concede to the bigger dog in the market place.

As Rod hemmed and hawed, a sense of doom hovered over Elyse. She wasn't about to make false promises now just to appease him, and she also figured if she spoke further in her own defense, she'd only make herself look bad. So she remained quiet and awaited her boss's next move.

Rod scratched his neck and glanced over at his wife. Judy glanced at him and away, back to wiping down the counter.

Elyse felt insulted by Rod's accusatory manner. In fact, she hadn't done anything wrong and resented being made to think so. As a matter of fact, standing there like a criminal on trial was starting to piss her off.

Screw it, I'll make a move and break the impasse.

"So," she said in a falsely chipper voice, "I guess I'll just go put my stuff in the studio then."

As anticipated, her statement provoked Rod to action. He gestured her to stop.

"The summer's never an easy time," he said, looking out the window rather than at her. "But the fact is, we have to cut costs, Elyse. There's just no other way. We can't afford to keep a full-time employee on at this point. We'll just be hiring freelancers from now on, on an as-needed basis. Which means, I'm afraid, we have to let you go."

A sudden jolt of adrenaline seared her chest.
I'm being fired!

Her skin grew hot, and her blood flow constricted. Her eyesight blurred, and she feared she might pass out. Her saving grace was the sense of outrage she felt, which held her erect. She'd never been fired in her whole life before! Wazinskis didn't get fired--they worked hard, did their best and were duly rewarded. What in heck was going on here? Where had that premise shifted?

Feeling completely out of time and space, an eternity seemed to slip by while she absorbed the shock of this new reality. Rod shifted his weight from one foot to the other trying to hold a tough-guy expression on his craggy face. When Elyse glanced over at Judy, she turned and started rummaging through her purse.

Elyse burned with anger but refrained from lashing out. She swallowed and waited. A moment later the anger morphed into sadness and she felt hurt.

"Wow," she said.

Judy flung around and spoke up fast. "We're sorry about this, Elyse. We really are."

Rod shot her a dirty look, as if that was the dumbest thing in the world to say.

Elyse's hurt feelings shifted, yet again, as her survival instinct kicked in, and self-preservation became the essence of the moment.

"Well, gee, Rod," she said drily, "thanks for the warning."

"Now in all fairness," Rod explained, "we just recently realized we had to make this decision."

After what Carla had told her about the Hoffenzimmers' penchant for cutting staff every summer, Elyse knew he was lying. As a result, her anger burned again. Realizing her current source of income had now expired, with minimal savings in the bank, she acted fast.

"So," she asked in a lethal-sounding voice. "I'm done, just like that? You expect me just to just go now--without my pay for the day? I count on that money you know. I planned on having that cash today, and I kind of need it to make ends meet."

Rod and Judy glanced at each other. Judy wore a guilty expression. She spoke up before Rod had the chance.

"Well, of course we were gonna pay you for today. We planned on paying you before we drove back to Westport. It's only fair."

"Oh, great," Elyse said, relieved. "I appreciate that."

Rod, however, did not look pleased. As a matter of fact, he looked like he wanted to smack his wife across the head.

"Okay," Elyse said as lightly as she could, "well, while you get my pay together, I'll go get my stuff from the studio."

But alone inside her studio, Elyse could barely contain how upset she was. The reality of the day came crashing down on her with a blend of mixed emotions.

She pulled an extra pair of shoes from out of the closet and thought how glad she'd be never to breathe the fetid, dusty air of this unclean environment again. Its dirtiness had made her increasingly miserable with every passing day.

But, then again, this unexpected change of events would put her in a financial pickle. Summer in the city was the worst time of year for finding work as a retail makeup artist, and she had just enough saved to get through the month. She shook her head and collected her belongings.

I'll think about that once I'm the hell out of here!

But then she teared up at how awful it felt to get dumped. In truth, she'd never thought her bosses were too bright. And from what she'd observed, they certainly were lazy. But she was now a victim of their dumbness and sloth.

She suddenly wished she'd gotten out with dignity sooner, had taken the time to pound the pavement in search of a new job. Ah, well, hindsight is always clearer.
Sometimes we wait too long in making our move!

She pushed away the image of the first tarot card and thought of Keb, and how he'd told her to be kinder to herself. She smiled when she remembered him holding her in his arms, and how safe she had felt that day in the park. He would tell her to stand tall and leave with dignity. But after a moment, a feeling of utter failure overwhelmed her, and she dropped to the dingy sofa in tears. Almost as quickly as she began, however, she pulled herself together. She would not give the Hoffenzimmers the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

She jumped up, snatched a tissue from the box by the mirror, and looked at her own reflection.

Choke it down, Wazinski, choke it down! You can cry when you get home.

Once she'd regained control, she dabbed at her eyes and snatched up her handbag. Pulling it over one shoulder, she stuffed her smelly old work shoes inside a plastic bag, grabbed the satchel holding her own personal tools of the trade and, without so much as a backward glance, swept out of the studio for good.

On her way back to the storefront, however, she overheard Rod grumbling to Judy and stopped by the corner to listen.

"I thought we were just gonna be done and leave for the picnic at my mother's!"

"We'll make it in plenty of time, Rod. It's only fair to at least pay her for coming in--"

"Since when did you start making executive decisions around here?"

Judy's voice grew quieter and more lethal. "If I'm not mistaken, this business is now in my name."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Take it how you want to, Rod. But legally it's in my name."

Rod sounded deadly when he said, "Is that some kind of threat, Judy?"

Their pedantic argument gave Elyse all the impetus she needed to leave without further delay. She rounded the corner faking an upbeat attitude.

"Well, I've got everything of mine right here."

She faced Judy from the other side of the counter. Rod slinked off to the opposite end. Judy looked blankly at Elyse as if she'd forgotten what to do.

"My pay, Judy? I'll just take it and be on my way, thanks."

"Oh, right, your pay."

Judy snatched up the bills she'd laid out by the register. "There you go, Elyse."

"Thank you, Judy."

Elyse counted the bills quickly and stuffed them into her purse. The trick, she decided, was to get out without crying or yelling, because she was starting to get upset again.