Chloe was there, doing warm-up exercises while the band set up.
I stopped walking when I saw her, trying to figure out why she was there for rehearsal. Then I realized that Nicky must have retained her as my replacement until I came back to work, which was awkward, because after the Corey Mays Reveal, I didn’t want to be the one to tell her that she wouldn’t be needed for rehearsal or tonight’s performance.
So I slunk through the shadows at the back of the club to Nicky’s office. I figured he could let her know about the change of schedule after we talked.
“Good news: I’m ready to come back,” I announced as I walked into his office. “Bad news: You’re going to have to tell Chloe that.”
Nicky was writing out checks for club vendor bills, and he had that pinched look on his face that he always got when he had to pay anybody money for anything.
Yet he took the time to paste a smile on his face and ask, “How are you, Davie?”
My stomach dropped, because Nicky never exchanged pleasantries. I mean ever.
I had expected the first words out of his mouth to be, “You look like shit.” Which was true. My skin was broken out from three days of intense grief, my Afro was in serious need of a pick, and I had lost weight in a not good way. My breasts felt saggy and my hips felt bony, like they had never known a curve.
But Nicky hadn’t mentioned any of this yet. Which was bad. And to add to my discomfort, I didn’t know how to deal with this pleasant Nicky, since I had never met him before.
“I’m fine,” I answered carefully. “I’m ready to sing now.”
He took off his reading glasses and rubbed his temple as if he had a sudden headache. Then he brought out his clipboard. “You know I love you, Davie, but I told your ass I would fire you if you didn’t open that door. And you didn’t open the door.”
I blinked. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not kidding. These past few days have gotten me to thinking about us.”
“About how we’re best friends?” I asked, giving him a not-so-subtle reminder.
“No, about how we’re family now. I love you like you’re family, and since you were fifteen, I took care of you like you were family.”
“You’ve slept with members of your family?”
Nicky continued on like I hadn’t made that remark. “But the thing is, I don’t live with my parents anymore. After college I got my own apartment and moved out. And I think I might have done you a disservice by not making you do the same thing when you graduated.”
He was serious, I realized then. He would never talk this much and this kindly if he weren’t anything but completely serious. I sank down into the plastic folding chair.
“But I love this job,” I said. And moreover, “Where will I go?”
Nicky shook his head. “Well, you still got the apartment. Mostly because I can’t legally kick you out of it under California’s current rental laws. But you’re either going to have to give up the Soul BunnyGram business or do it yourself.”
I thought about the day I mowed James down in my bunny suit, and I said, “I don’t ever want to do another Soul BunnyGram again.”
Nicky shrugged. “Then use your degree. What’s it in again?”
“Psychology,” I said.
Then we both got quiet, because really the irony of that was almost a little too much.
“Nicky, this is the worst possible time for you to do this. I don’t understand.”
Nicky leaned back in his seat. “One day you’ll thank me.”
“You always say that, and I have never thanked you for any of the things you made me do. Not once,” I hissed. I had gone from hurt to full of rage in a split second.