CHAPTER 49 – Black Girl

At 7 PM, she met Lim in the dark basement, cat in hand. Lim had opened and closed the door with just enough sound to announce his arrival. He slid down stairs soundlessly, then asked her a quintessential question. “Chicken or Beef?”

“Chicken.”

Lim made the noodles as they spoke. “William texted me earlier, saying he may need my help with the CCTV again. I panicked and came immediately. Then he told me to go home. He was supposed to be at the video lab until 9 PM. We were going out for drinks at the club, to celebrate his film.”

The sealed cups were ready in 2 minutes.

“Yeah,” Eppie sipped the hot soup apologetically. “That’s on me.”

“Did you provoke him?” Lim said critically. “Taunt him with the recording?”

“Nah, I had someone beat the snot out of him,” she said between mouthfuls.

Lim laughed, then stopped laughing when he realised she wasn’t joking. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah. You should have seen his face,” she described William’s wounds with great gusto, especially the perfumed bite mark.

“San-jei can be—” Lim swallowed his words.

“As insane as she is spicy?” Eppie suddenly arrived at an incredible thought, then felt guilty for hoping that Valorie would do an Amber Heard. No matter their bedroom antics, no cleaner deserved what was waiting for them in the sheets. As a redeemer, she really should not be having this much schadenfreude. “Like reaper grade sriracha?”

“Ahah…” Lim had humoured her. “I am glad you’re safe. If you weren’t…” The man’s knuckles tightened. “What did he want from you?”

“He wanted to know what I wanted,” Eppie answered. “I told him it’s simple. Confess. Go to jail. Do his time. Repent. Come back out when he’s thirty. He’s still rich, handsome, and a Chen. Only he’s become a better person. Win-win.”

“I am sure he agreed.” Lim looked at her, his face struggling to remain under control. “How did you get San-jei to beat him?”

Eppie decided to have some fun with the giant to lighten the mood. “Would you believe it if I told you Val was jealous of the connection Willy and I shared?”

Lim looked her skinny ass up and down. “Not with that…”
Eppie felt a sudden urge to show Lim what [Strength] 20 felt like.

Rolling her eyes, she told him about the sign-up sheet.

Lim roared with laughter, taking a whole minute to shake himself out of the dangerous revelry. “You’re too cruel. Fon-mei-mei”

“Am I?” Eppie drank from a cup-noodle box. “I am trying to convert them, you know. Sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“What’s the worst that can happen? Will they defenestrate me?” She paused. “You ever defenestrate anyone, Lim? Did William ever give that kind of order?”

“This isn’t the nineties But you know, during the riots,” Lim looked at her with a very serious expression, his voice suddenly low. “My Father…”

“Your father?” Eppie grew morbidly interested.

“Was a Physiotherapist… who specialised in sprains.”

“Diu—!” Eppie swore. Lim cackled.

The giant shook his head, exhaled, then reached over and held her tiny hand. Mr Chin joined them with a paw. “Meow!”

“Be careful in NYC,” he said to her, his voice actually serious. “There’s a lot to do when you get back. I’ll be working with Mrs Lafitte on exposing the Chens’ relationship with Senator Sanders. It’s all happening in May.”

Eppie stroked Mr Chin, then placed her hand on top of Lim’s. Bloody hell, brother Lim’s got big hands. She suspected that if Lim had truly been William’s lackey, and he had managed to snag her from behind, she might be pumping [Causality] into [Vitality] instead of [Stamina]. “You be careful too.”

They finished their noodles in silence, smiling at one another and at the cats’ curiosity as they came to add both affection and fur to their chicken noodles.

Lim’s greatest worry was that William would somehow get to her via means not related to the Five Root Association. Eppie had reasoned that this would not be an issue because she wasn’t in LAPA or her dorms. She wasn’t even going to be here in LA.

“I just realised something,” Eppie suddenly groaned. “William completely sidetracked me.”

Lim’s face stood to attention. “What’s wrong?”

“My bags…” She moped. “I still haven’t packed for my NYC trip…”

Friday.

Mid-morning, Eppie self-soothed by overthinking.

She was going to NYC, and with Sony footing the bill and giving her a spending budget, she would have an amazing two-week sabbatical. Both Eric and Zara had invited her for Christmas and New Year’s, but she had told them not to worry. Zara especially wanted her over at Fresno. Eppie informed her that she would prefer not to disturb Mio with her William-adjacent bullshit, especially when Mio was getting close to her due date. Besides, Eppie told her friend. Since she would be in NYC, there was a nonzero chance that Curon might fly Zara out to Sony Studios on Madison.

On her return, Eppie promised she would have presents for everyone.

In her old life, it was Emily who had taken care of all her nagging socials. In this time… Okay. She confessed. In this life, it was probably Maddy Filmore. BUT SHE WAS GOING TO BE NICE. Yes! She promised herself. Be a good person. Give Maddy lots of money and kisses. She would gift Maddy, so Maddy could gift others with her gifts.

YES, Maddy would buy modest presents for EVERYONE using her spending account.

She would dub this policy [Trickle-down Presenomics].

She got ready.

On the final day of school, there was no school. The gates opened at seven-thirty for a final briefing by Principal Burton to a cohort that was 30 per cent present, then the kids drifted off to retrieve their equipment, costumes and suitcases, ready for the holidays to start.

Chelsea and Lucy gave her hugs and kisses and promised to return on the 7th. Min-jun said that he was literally stuck working at his uncle’s Korean BBQ joint in K-town, and she could come and eat whenever she wanted—but not too often—maybe once—and he could give her a discount. Chloe gave her a peck on the cheeks and told her that she looked forward to what manager Eppie would do for their production of Titus.

Until lunch, she did not see William or Valorie.

Her suitcase was packed. She was ready to go and see a 33-year-old mother of three.

At the school gates, while waiting for her taxi, she paused.
She was feeling nervous.
This was a new sensation for Eppie, so much so that she suspected her [Persona] body might know something she did not. In her old life, she had trafficked with Saudi Princes, bartered with sitting Senators and flirted with awkward Tech-bro billionaires, and had felt less self-conscious than she felt now.

Why was it so hard to go to Mae’s Diner on Broadway Manchester? Why had she put it off until this final, non-critical moment?

She had to do this. For herself. For Eppie.

According to Lafitte, Denise Goode worked the early to mid-afternoon shift. She should be working now and going home later, then heading back to work at the Century Grill. Snaking her way into Denise’s good graces, then boxing Simone in her home, was the plan she had concocted. It was a dirty plan, but no one was going to be defenestrated, and the harm was minimal.

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Against a traffic reflector, Eppie checked her fit. She was casual in her oversized sweats, but chic in her tightly-fitted easy jeans. Her Adidas were a bit of a mess now, thanks to the kittens, which suited her fine. She looked neat, poor and young. She also stole a CSULA hemp tote from Josefina to complete the look. She left her hair unbrushed, in a bun, so as to vibe the starving-artist aura.

She was ready.

Ready for cheap coffee and a kosher bagel.