Authors: Owen Matthews
The Fixes (25 page)
So that's Jordan's plan.
That's how Saturday night is supposed to go.
(You can probably figure out that Saturday night doesn't quite go as planned.)
KIK -- CAPILANO HIGH PRIVATE MESSAGE GROUP â 08/20/16 â 08:31 PM
USERNAME: SuIcIdEpAcK
MESSAGE:Wherefore art thou, Romeo?
Saturday night. Jordan and E drop off Paige and Haley outside the St. Regis. They park Jordan's Tesla in the public beach parking lot next door to wait for the signal.
(“Text us when you have the keys,” Jordan tells Haley and Paige. “Text us â911' if anything goes sour.”)
It's a beautiful Capilano summer evening. The last of the sunset is just disappearing behind the islands to the west. The city skyline is a bright wall to the east. And ahead, in the bay, freighters lie at anchor, their lights shimmering off the black water.
“It's kind of romantic out here,” Jordan says, grinning at E. “You want to fool around while we wait?”
“What, now?” E frowns. He's not exactly, like,
in the mood
. He's too busy trying to rehearse the plan, hoping he doesn't get recognized, wishing he didn't have wear this goofy fedora.
Jordan laughs. “Relax,” he says. “I'm just messing with you.”
E relaxes as much as he's able. His feet tap a rhythm on the Tesla's plush carpet. He checks his reflection in the mirror, realizes he looks as stressed as he feels. He stares out at the water, tries to calm his breathing. Waits for Jordan's phone to buzz.
Paige and Haley enter the St. Regis through the side entrance. They're wearing sundresses and big floppy hats. They look like normal Cap girlsâapart from the duffel bag.
(It doesn't matter. Nobody sees them.)
There's a ladies' restroom beyond the bank of elevators. They skirt the edge of the lobby and hurry toward it. They keep their heads down, the hats covering their faces. Haley checks the restroom to make sure it's empty. It is. They both disappear inside.
They emerge, new women, twenty minutes later. Haley's in Balenciaga, Paige Alexander McQueen. Hair impeccable, makeup to the nines. They're bombshells, traffic stoppers. They're dressed to
kill
â
(hold that thought).
They keep their heads down as they wait for the elevators. Eyes downcast. The elevator dings. The doors slide open. Haley and Paige walk inside.
has a top-floor suite. It's a long way up. Haley and Paige check their reflections in the mirrored door. They fix their hair. They meet each other's eyes. Haley smiles and squeezes Paige's hand.
(
“This is going to be awesome
.
”
)
The elevator dings again. The doors slide open. Paige squeezes Haley's hand back. Then they walk out to the hall.
is shorter than he looks in the movies. Older. He's not quite as hot, either, without the magic of Photoshop and an army of hair and makeup artists.
(
E actually
is
cuter
, Haley thinks.)
is wearing, like, sweatpants and a Prada hoodie. He's leaning against the doorframe. He leers at Paige and Haley as they walk off the elevator.
“So glad you made it, babe,” he says. “Does your friend want a job too?”
Haley stifles the urge to throw up.
“She doesn't need a job,” Paige tells him, her voice all syrup and seduction. “She's just here to help me convince you to hire me back.”
“What a great friend.” The movie star holds out his hand to Haley. “And beautiful, too. I'm,” he says. “Please, come inside.”
It plays out like it's supposed to, at first.
's suite is vast. Multiple bedrooms, minimalist furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows with a sweeping ocean view.
(Somewhere, hidden speakers are playing The Weeknd at an unobtrusive volume.)
Haley spots the keys to the Ferrari immediately. They're hard to miss. They're sitting on the coffee table in the living room area, directly in front of Haley and Paige asushers them to the couch.
(Paige thinks she sees a room key on a side table by the door.)
(Perfect.)
The movie star sits down opposite Paige and Haley. Leans back and studies them both like they're candy.
“So,”
he says. “Convince me.”
Paige launches into some spiel about how she really needs her job, and she'll do anything to get it back.
(Haley kind of tunes her out.)
The spiel goes on and on, Paige looking remorseful and desperate and, like, vulnerable, the asshole pervert movie star lapping it up. Then he holds up his hand to stop her. “You didn't come here to
talk
, did you?”
(
BARF.
)
He picks up a remote, and The Weeknd gets louder. Paige and Haley look at each other. “I need a drink,” Haley tells. “Will you make us a drink?”
Paige stands. “And I need to go freshen up. I'll be right back.”
The movie star doesn't look pleased, but he rolls with it. “Drinks,” he says, standing and walking to a wet bar in a corner. “What's your poison?”
Haley eyes the car keys on the table. Eyes. Can't think of a way to swipe them without him noticing.
On to Plan B.
“Vodka soda,” she tells. Pastes a smile on her face. “And make mine
strong
.”