The Influencer
High school graduation is a turning point in many young people's lives. When the ceremonies are over and the caps and gowns are taken off, the graduates find themselves at the crossroads of life. Many go on to college or technical school to further their educations while others jump into the workforce.
Janet Mulhouse, whose scholastic record was far from stellar, did not bother taking the college entrance tests since she doubted any university would accept her given her low grades. As a youngster, when she played Hasbro's Game of Life, she always chose the road to college, hoping to get a career with a high salary. But this was real life, not a game.
"I don't know what to do now," she told Ally Kurtzman, her only true friend. "For twelve years—thirteen if you count kindergarten—I've gone to school every day. I didn't have a choice. Now, I have to make up my own mind about what to do with the rest of my life, and I can't."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. That's why I decided—what the hell?—I might as well get married and start a family."
"I can't get married. I don't have a boyfriend."
"Maybe if you took your nose out of all those books you read, you'd find one."
"I'm not like you. You're pretty and sociable. I'm a hopeless introvert.
"Then I guess you better find a job. Your parents aren't going to support you forever. That's for sure."
"What am I going to do? I'm not good at anything except reading. I'd love to be a librarian, but you need a degree for that."
"Why don't you become a waitress? You don't need a college education to work at a restaurant, and if you work at a fancy place with high prices, the tips are better."
"I don't think I could deal with the customers. I have lousy people skills. If anyone complained to me about their food, I'd probably break down in tears."
"What about a secretary?"
"My typing sucks. And most secretaries have to answer phones and speak with people. No, that's not for me."
Ally made several more suggestions, all of which her friend found fault with. She had no illusions about the girl she had known since they were both in diapers. No one knew Janet better than she did. To say her friend was an underachiever would be putting it mildly.
I feel sorry for her, Ally thought. She seems to fail at almost everything she does. I can't imagine anyone wanting to hire her.
Much can be said for being in the right place at the right time, however. With cases of COVID-19 on the rise, the number of job openings increased. Everywhere Janet went, she found HELP WANTED signs posted on doors and in windows. Restaurants, stores and offices were all looking for workers. Despite her lack of retail experience, the recent graduate had her choice of positions. Surprisingly, she chose to work for Magnifique, the multinational cosmetics chain that had a retail store in the local mall.
"Of all the places you could have worked, you picked a store that sells makeup and perfume!" Ally cried, surprised by her friend's decision. "You don't use either of them."
"I've always wanted to wear eye makeup," Janet admitted. "I just never learned how to correctly apply it. When I was thirteen, I tried putting on my mother's eyeshadow and mascara. I looked like a clown. I figure that by working for Magnifique, I can learn what looks good on me and what doesn't. Besides, I'll get an employee discount when I shop there."
At first, the new salesgirl loved her job. Within weeks, however, the luster began to wear off. Standing behind a checkout counter for eight hours a day became tedious, and dealing with some of the customers was difficult. Even the employee discount left a lot to be desired. The price of the products was too high, and her weekly pay was too low. By the middle of July, she wished she were back in school again.
"I miss having the summer off," she said with a sigh.
"That's life," Ally declared as though she were an expert on the subject. "Get used to it."
"That's easy for you to say. You don't work. You spend most of your time planning your wedding."
"It's not all fun and games. There's so much to do. I find myself constantly running around, going to see florists, caterers, bakers, musicians, photographers and videographers. You can't just hire these people blindly. You have to see their work."
Janet could not summon any sympathy for the bride-to-be. She was marrying into a wealthy family who was more than happy to foot the bill for their only son's wedding.
Why can't I be as lucky? she wondered.
* * *
Janet looked at her watch, relieved to see she had only five minutes left of her shift. It had been a long and busy day. Her feet were killing her, and she was eager to go home and rest. As she made her way to the breakroom where the employees' lockers were located, she passed Rhoda Larcombe, the store manager, who was coming out of the ladies' room.
"I'm glad I caught you before you left," Rhoda said. "Be sure to wear something nice tomorrow, and you might want to spend some time fixing your hair."
"Why? Is it picture day at school?" Janet laughed.
"We're having a visitor. Danica Grace is coming to the store."
Rhoda said the name as though it were spelled out in lights.
"Who's she?"
"You can't be serious! You really don't know? She's only the most popular influencer on the Internet!"
Janet had only a vague idea of what an influencer was but did not want to appear ignorant by asking any questions.
"Do yourself a favor," the supervisor advised. "Check out some of her videos on YouTube and TikTok. You've heard of those, haven't you?"
"Yeah. They're websites where I usually go to view funny cat videos."
The manager rolled her eyes and wondered how such an ill-informed person had been able to not only graduate high school but also get a job at Magnifique.
It certainly wasn't because of her glamorous looks, Rhoda thought uncharitably. She's the plainest girl in the shop, and she has absolutely no fashion sense.
"While you're at it, you might want to read her blog or listen to one of her podcasts," she suggested.
"Videos, blogs and podcasts. This Danica Grace must be quite the busy beaver."
"As I said, she's the most popular influencer on the Internet. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, Reddit—you name it. She's literally all over social media!"
"And she's coming here? To our store? Why? This isn't exactly the Mall of America."
"I don't know why, but I'm glad she is. I'm dying to meet her!"
Later that evening, Janet opened her laptop and googled Danica Grace's name. The search yielded over five hundred million results. There were several images at the top of the page, all of a pretty young woman with long brown hair and a wide smile. Hoping to understand what the influencer actually did, she visited YouTube and watched one of her videos. In the eight-minute presentation, Danica gave her opinion on Malin+Goetz skincare products.
"I don't see the big deal. This video is like an infomercial. It reminds me of Cindy Crawford trying to market her Meaningful Beauty line."
"The next product I want to show you is Malin+Goetz lip balm," the attractive brunette announced, holding up a small tube to the camera. "You can purchase this at Nordstrom and other fine stores or order it online from Amazon. It's a long-lasting, hydrating, soothing lip treatment that is fragrance and color free. And it's safe for all you vegans and animal lovers out there. The best part is that it only costs fourteen dollars a tube."
"Fourteen dollars for lip balm!" Janet exclaimed. "No, thank you! I'll stick to Vaseline or ChapStick."
When the video came to an end, however, she watched another one and another after that. Danica Grace had a mesmerizing quality that held viewers' attention. It was only when the grandfather's clock in the hall chimed midnight that the young salesgirl shut the lid on her laptop.
"I've got to get to bed. I work tomorrow."
More importantly, she was going to meet Danica Grace, and now that she had seen the influencer in action, she was every bit as eager to meet her as Rhoda was.
Janet woke early the next morning. After a quick breakfast of Cheerios and Swiss Miss hot chocolate, she put on the dress she wore to her graduation party. She tried for twenty minutes to style her hair with a curling iron but gave up when she burned the back of her neck. There was nothing she could do but comb it all back from her face and put it in a ponytail.
The store manager, who purchased a new Karl Lagerfeld dress from Sak's OFF 5TH discount rack just for the occasion, grimaced when she saw her newest employee arrive at work.
Is that the best she could do? Rhoda wondered. A dress from Kohl's and a ponytail? Maybe I should put her in the stockroom while Danica Grace is here.
Unfortunately, the VIP guest did not mention the exact time of her arrival—only that it would be sometime in the morning. It was not until eleven o'clock that a limousine pulled up in front of Magnifique. Moments later, the chauffeur opened the door, and the influencer appeared. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, when the Internet sensation walked through the shop, the starstruck customers made way for her.
The store manager was the first to recover her senses. She stepped forward and introduced herself.
"Hello, Miss Grace. Welcome to Magnifique. I'm Rhoda Larcombe. I'm in charge here. May I say what a great honor it is to meet you?"
Rather than speak directly to the woman who addressed her, the influencer turned and spoke to the entire crowd that had gathered around her.
"Hello, everyone. I'm delighted to be here! I'm going to go speak with the store manager now, but I'll be right back to meet you and sign autographs."
Rhoda, who felt as though she were being given an audience with the queen, led the social media star to her office, a room not much larger than a closet.
"Can I get you something?" she offered. "A cup of coffee maybe?"
"No, thanks. I guess you're wondering why I'm here."
"Yes. I am."
"I suppose you've seen several of my makeover videos. Well, I've come here to find my next guinea pig."
The manager's heart raced with excitement, and she quickly volunteered her services.
"No. You look good the way you are," Danica said, deliberately flattering the woman. "I was thinking about that mousy-looking girl behind the register, the one with the démodé outfit."
"You mean Janet Mulhouse?" the manager asked with a mixture of horror, astonishment and disappointment. "But she's ...."
"Perfect for my purposes," the influencer insisted. "I intend to turn that ugly duckling into a swan. I promise when I'm done working my magic, you won't be able to recognize her."
* * *
The following Friday morning, Janet waited in her living room with an overnight bag containing a change of clothes, clean underwear, a pair of pajamas and sundry toiletries. Nervously pacing the floor, she frequently glanced out the window for the car that was to pick her up.
"I still don't like this," Kate Mulhouse told her daughter. "A strange woman goes into the shop and makes arrangements to take you away for the weekend and you agree to go. What if ...?"
"She's not a stranger. In fact, she's downright famous, so don't worry."
"Michael Jackson was famous, too, and yet he was accused of child molestation."
"I'm not a child, and Danica Grace is no child molester."
"But this woman who plans to kidnap you might be into human trafficking."
"She's not kidnapping me. She's an expert on makeup and fashion, and she's going to give me a makeover."
"Out of the kindness of her heart?" the worried parent asked facetiously.
"No. She's going to film the experience and post the video on social media. That's what she does."
"I still don't like it. You have to ...."
"Holy cow!" Janet exclaimed when a vehicle pulled into the driveway.
"What is it?"
"It's a limo!"
Eager to be on her way, the young salesgirl grabbed her overnight bag, kissed her mother on the cheek and ran out the door.
"I still don't like it," Kate muttered as she watched the car drive away.
Meanwhile, her daughter made herself comfortable in the back seat of the chauffeur-driven limousine. The ride was a long one, lasting more than two hours, but she did not care. She might never have the opportunity to travel in such style again, so she might as well enjoy the unaccustomed luxury.
This is even better than sitting in the back of Ally's grandfather's old Cadillac, she thought, curling her legs beneath her on the soft upholstery.
Eventually, the limo came to a stop at the end of a long, secluded, wooded road. The driver pulled up to a security pad and input a five-digit code. The metal gates opened and then closed behind him. It was nearly another five minutes before they came into view of the house.
So, this is where Danica Grace lives? Talk about curb appeal!
It was no sprawling, asymmetrical behemoth of a building like the celebrity houses often seen in the tabloids. This one was more like an antebellum mansion plucked right out of Gone with the Wind. When the chauffeur opened the door for her and she emerged from the back seat, she felt like Dorothy walking out of Auntie Em and Uncle Henry's farmhouse and taking that first step into Oz.
The massive front door opened, and a woman in a maid's uniform greeted her.
"You must be Miss Mulhouse. Miss Grace is waiting for you in the dining room."
As impressed as she was with the exterior of the house, she was even more enthralled by the inside. This was clearly no celebrity "crib." There was no ostentatious display of wealth, yet even to someone like Janet, who had no real knowledge of interior design beyond what she saw on HGTV's programs, it was obvious the furnishings were expensive, either genuine antiques or well-crafted reproductions. The drapes, the oriental carpets and the artwork on the wall all reeked not only of affluence but also of good taste.
"I hope you haven't eaten breakfast," her hostess said when she was shown into the large, formal dining room.
"No. Frankly, I was too nervous."
"Good. Sit down and have a cup of coffee with me."
"Everything looks so good," the guest observed, eyeing up the selection of pastries on the table. "I don't know which one to eat."
"Try the cheese Danish. It's delicious, but then so are the chocolate croissants."
Rather than choose between the two, Janet had one of each. Her mother would never have approved of what she would call "empty calories," but—what the hell?—this weekend was like a mini-vacation. Why not enjoy herself?
"Why don't you go up to your room and get settled in? Then we'll get to work," the influencer suggested.
The maid led the salesgirl up the sweeping staircase to the second-floor guestroom, which was actually a suite and not just a single room.
"Wow!" she exclaimed. "This place has got the Holiday Inn beat by a mile."
"Make yourself at home. When you're ready for your makeover, just come down the stairs. Miss Grace will be waiting for you in the foyer."
* * *
For the remainder of that day and all of the next, Janet received a complete makeover. This was no simple application of makeup that retailers like Sephora offered. This was a total head-to-foot overhaul—literally! Her hair was cut, colored and styled; her feet were placed in a small tub of water where Garra Rufa fish nibbled away at her dead skin cells before she was given a spa-quality pedicure. Danica did none of the work herself but supervised a team of beauty technicians that included, among others, a professional hairstylist and makeup artist. All the work was done in what would best be described as a home salon, albeit one without a single mirror.
Despite the discomfort of having her eyebrows plucked, Janet found most of the process relaxing. She had never been pampered before, and she liked it. As a manicurist enhanced her fingernails with acrylic tips, she spoke to the influencer.
"Where's the camera? Have you got it hidden somewhere?"
"What camera?"
"Aren't you filming the makeover for YouTube or TikTok?"
"No. Not even my most devoted fans will want to sit through a two-day-long video. Instead, I took candid photos of you the day I visited Magnifique, and when you're done here, I'll take some more. I'll use those before and after pictures in my blog."
"Then I'm not going to be the next YouTube sensation?"
"You sound disappointed."
"I am a little. I guess I wanted my fifteen minutes of fame."
"Don't worry," Danica laughed. "Cinderella never appeared on social media, and she lived happily ever after. Didn't she?"
"That's the way the story goes," the salesgirl said, smiling at her personal Fairy Godmother.
After the makeup artist spritzed her face with setting spray, the makeover was complete.
"I can't wait to see what I look like," Janet announced.
"Not yet. First, we have to do something about your clothes. I want to dress you as though you were one of the gens du monde. Come with me."
"Are we going shopping?"
"No need to. I'm sure I have something in my closet that will suit you."
The two women went up the same stairway but did not stop on the second floor. Instead, they continued on to the third. The influencer opened the door, and they entered a huge bedroom, the largest one her guest had ever seen.
"You sleep here?" the awestruck salesgirl asked.
"When I'm not traveling, I do."
Danica crossed the room and opened the double doors to the right of the ensuite master bath. To call the area where she kept her clothing, shoes and handbags a closet was akin to calling the Grand Canyon a crack in the ground. It was enormous!
"My family's entire house can fit in here!"
"It's still just a closet."
"Where did you get all this stuff?" Janet asked, noticing that many of the garments still had price tags affixed to them.
"A few of them I bought, but most are given to me by the designers and department stores. It's one of the perks of being an influencer."
Danica searched through several outfits before pulling one out and saying, "This ought to fit you."
"It's a little tight," Janet said as she zipped up the daringly short, form-fitting dress.
"It's supposed to be. It's Versace, not Walmart."
"Me? In a Versace? You've got to be kidding!"
"Would you prefer another designer?"
"No."
"Good! Because it suits you. Now, are you ready for the big reveal?"
"Yes."
Danica took her guinea pig back into the bedroom. In the corner was a full-length trifold mirror, just like the one that appeared in the last scene of the Bette Davis classic All About Eve. Janet hardly recognized her own reflection. It was like seeing a stranger.
"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, turning her head from one segment of the mirror to the other to view her new image from different angles. "Is that really me? I can't believe it! I look like a supermodel!"
The long, stringy, mousy brown hair was cut into a sleek bob and colored a soft shade of blond. Her complexion was radiant, which was due as much to the facial mask applied to her skin as the foundation and blush she wore. Although she normally put nothing on her lips except Vaseline to keep them from splitting in the cold weather, she loved the look of the lipstick and lip liner. But her most striking feature was her eyes. With a combination of several shades of shadow, liner on both the upper and lower lids, thick mascara that enhanced her lashes and a thinning and reshaping of her eyebrows, her blue eyes appeared dazzlingly magnetic.
"How can I ever thank you?" she cried, unable to look away from her reflection.
"I'll find a way," the influencer replied in a barely audible voice that would have sent chills down Karen Mulhouse's spine had she heard it.
* * *
When Janet got back into the limo on Sunday night, still wearing the Versace dress, she felt like Cinderella. Immediately after leaving Danica's house, she sent photos of herself to Ally Kurtzman. The accompanying text read I went from a scullery maid to a princess. Now, all I need to do is find my prince. Since there was no immediate reply, she assumed her friend was already asleep in bed.
Despite the lateness of the hour, her parents were still awake when the car pulled into the driveway. No doubt, they were worried about her safety.
"Good heavens!" Kate exclaimed when her daughter walked through the door. "You weren't kidding when you said you were going to get a makeover."
Lionel Mulhouse looked up from his newspaper, and his jaw dropped in amazement. He was suddenly struck with the realization that his little girl was a grown woman and a stunningly beautiful one at that.
"And you were afraid I was going to be kidnapped," Janet reminded her mother. "I told you there was nothing to worry about. Danica is a genius when it comes to makeup and fashion, and she's made a new woman out of me."
"But to what end?" her mother, ever the cautious one, asked. "Are you going to go to work dressed like that?"
"Obviously not," her daughter replied. "This is a Versace."
"Where will you wear such an expensive dress?"
"I don't know. Maybe now I'll be able to get a boyfriend, and I'll wear it on a date."
Kate forced herself to smile. She did not want to burst her daughter's bubble with her concerns. And maybe she was wrong. Maybe the new look would change the girl's life for the better.
"You look fantastic!" she said. "Any boy—man—would be lucky to have you."
"Thanks, Mom. I'm home safe and sound now, so both of you can go to bed. I'm going to turn in myself. I need sleep. Honestly," she laughed, "who knew the pursuit of beauty could be so exhausting?"
Although Janet exchanged the Versace for an oversized T-shirt, which she wore in place of pajamas, she did not wash the makeup off her face. She wanted her coworkers at Magnifique to see the miracle Danica had worked. During the night, some of the blush and foundation wore off onto her pillowcase. For the most part, though, her makeup was intact when she woke in the morning. Her hairdo, on the other hand, suffered a different fate. The volume that was achieved by a professional stylist with a blow dryer was gone. Now, her hair, after being slept on all night, was flat and shapeless.
"Oh, well!" she said after assessing the damage. "At least my eyes still look good."
When Janet walked into Magnifique, her fellow employees greeted her with surprise and envy.
"And to think a short time ago, you didn't even know who Danica Grace was!" Rhoda exclaimed. "And now look at you! Where did she take you, to an expensive salon or a day spa?"
"Neither. She had a car—a limo—pick me up at my parents' house and drive me to her home. What a place she has! It's an actual mansion, filled with antiques and artwork. Anyway, she has a room in the basement that's set up like a beauty shop."
"Oh, what I wouldn't give to have been in your shoes this weekend," Rhoda said with a dreamy look in her eye.
"It was the best experience of my life."
"Can you send me a link to the video?"
"Danica didn't take any videos, just before and after still photos for her blog."
The disappointment clearly showed on the store manager's face.
"Oh, well," she sighed, looking at her watch. "It's almost nine o'clock. Let's get ready to open the doors. Sorry, Cinderella, but the ball is over now."
"True," the salesgirl laughed, "but I've still got one of the glass slippers."
* * *
When Janet woke one morning, nearly a month after her weekend at Danica Grace's house, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. It was quite a different sight from the one she had seen in the full-length, trifold, All About Eve mirror in the influencer's bedroom.
According to the most popular telling of the old fairy tale, Cinderella lost all the gifts given to her by the Fairy Godmother (except the glass slippers) at the stroke of midnight. Janet, on the other hand, lost hers gradually. The new hairdo was the first thing to go, followed by the expert makeup job the following evening when the young woman took a shower. Try as she might, she could not replicate the look Danica's salon technicians had achieved. The enamel on the nails chipped; the nails themselves broke. And that morning, she noticed the dark roots were starting to show in her fair hair.
I look like an unmade bed! she thought despondently.
Oddly enough, before she met Danica, she was never overly concerned with her appearance. However, after seeing the hidden potential beauty brought to the surface by the influencer's team, she realized there was hope for her. She wouldn't need to read about love in romance novels; she might actually find the real thing. Like Ally Kurtzman, she could fall in love and get married.
But who's going to want to marry me looking like this? she wondered, her eyes misting with tears.
Eager to recapture some of the magic of the makeover, she tried contacting Danica via email. All she received back was an automated reply. Without a phone number or address, she had no other way of getting in touch with the influencer.
Several more weeks passed, and the shopgirl's mood worsened. Her worried parents were considering sending her to a doctor, and Rhoda Larcombe was contemplating firing her. A moping girl behind the checkout counter might endanger sales.
"You've got to watch your attitude when you ring customers out," the manager cautioned. "You know the routine. Smile. Ask them if they found everything they were looking for. And then be sure to thank them for shopping at Magnifique."
"I'll try to remember that," Janet halfheartedly promised.
"Do more than try. You may not care about losing your job, but I don't want to endanger my position."
In all honesty, the downhearted salesgirl was giving thought to quitting. The last place she needed to work in her current state of mind was a cosmetics store, especially the one where she first met Danica Grace and started her emotional rollercoaster ride. She had gone so far as to put in an application at a nearby Barnes & Noble, believing she would be much more contented working around books, but she had yet to hear back from them.
When her phone rang shortly before her scheduled lunch break, she was hoping it was someone from the bookstore's human resources department, calling to schedule an interview. To her astonishment, it was Danica Grace.
"I didn't expect to hear from you," she said unwittingly loudly enough to attract Rhoda's attention.
"I wanted to know how you like your new look," the influencer explained.
Before Janet could reply, the store manager walked up to her and said, "You know the rules about no personal phone calls during working hours."
"This is a family emergency," the salesgirl lied. "I have to take it."
"Very well. Go to lunch a few minutes early. I'll have one of the other girls cover the register for you."
"I hope I didn't get you in any trouble," Danica said.
"I don't care if you did. I hate this job anyway."
"Good. Maybe then you'll consider working for me."
"What was that?" Janet asked, believing she had misheard the influencer's words.
"I'm offering you a job."
"I'll take it!"
"Don't you even want to know what it entails?"
"No. I'll do anything you want for whatever pay you want to give me."
"Good. Why don't I have my car pick you up tomorrow, say around noon? We can discuss all the particulars over lunch. See you then."
Janet had no chance to answer before the call ended. But, then, she didn't need to; there was no way she would turn down an offer to work with Danica Grace.
As she stood in the center of the lunchroom, mystified by the sudden turn of events, Rhoda barged into the room.
"I hope the news isn't too bad," the manager said.
"Actually, it was very good. Great, in fact!"
Then she walked over to her locker, removed the padlock and collected her purse, lunch bag and sweater.
"Going somewhere?"
"Yeah, home. And by the way, I quit."
* * *
The same limo pulled into the Mulhouses' driveway promptly at twelve o'clock. Janet, who had been waiting by the window for more than forty minutes, scampered out the front door. The chauffeur took her not to Danica's house but to an upscale restaurant three towns away.
"I'm meeting Miss Grace," she told the hostess.
"Right this way."
The hostess took her to a corner table, far away from other diners. The influencer was already seated and reading the menu.
"It looks like you could use a retouch on your makeover," Danica laughed when she saw the former Magnifique salesgirl.
"You can say that again!"
"If you accept my job offer, regular beauty treatments will be included in the benefits package. After all, I expect my employees to look their best at all times."
"What is it you want me to do?"
"We'll discuss that later. Let's order first. Feel like a drink? They make excellent martinis here."
"I'm only eighteen."
"That's all right. No one will card you if you're with me."
Throughout the meal, Janet was treated like visiting royalty. This was no burgers and fries lunch. It was a feast of bacchanalian proportions, beginning with caviar and ending with an elaborate chocolate cake that had once appeared on the cover of Bon Appétit magazine.
"After that meal, I doubt I'll fit in the Versace dress," Janet said, finishing the last of the rich dessert.
"Don't worry about that. I have diet secrets I'll share with you."
"Can we discuss the job now?"
"How would you like to be Cinderella on a full-time basis and not just for one night?"
"I'd love it!"
Not long after she started working for the influencer, Janet moved out of her parents' house. She left everything behind when she departed, except for the Versace dress. There was no need for her books, her discount store wardrobe or the old furniture she had been using since the fifth grade.
"I've got my own apartment now," she told her mother. "And it's completely furnished."
"But what about your clothes? Your shoes?"
"I went on a shopping spree with Danica and bought everything new. Honestly, I don't need a thing. You can give all this old stuff to Good Will."
Tears came to Kate Mulhouse's eyes. Her daughter was all grown up, and she was not sure if she liked the person she had become.
* * *
Once the euphoria of her new situation started to wear off, Janet began asking herself why Danica was paying her such an exorbitant salary. She did very little to earn it.
"Don't think I'm complaining, but is that all my job entails: going from store to store and keeping records of who sells what and how much they charge for their products?"
"For now. Once I feel you're ready, I'll give you more responsibility. I've got big plans for you."
Despite the time she spent going into high-end stores and salons, Janet was rarely asked to purchase anything. More surprisingly, she was not given any samples to take back to her boss—most likely because she was told never to mention the influencer's name.
"If any of those retailers hear I'm interested in their products, I'll never be able to get rid of them!" Danica declared. "No. It's better if you pretend to be a young woman with a predilection for window shopping."
The downside of so much traveling was the loneliness it entailed. She rarely had the opportunity to visit her family or her friend Ally. She didn't even get to spend time with her employer. They communicated mainly by phone.
Then, one day, perspiring from the heat and humidity of Miami, Janet had just returned to her hotel room after several hours perusing the spring fashions at the Bal Harbour Shops when her cell phone rang. She reached into her purse for the iPhone with one hand as she inserted the keycard into the electronic lock with the other.
"Hi, have you got any dinner plans?" Danica asked.
"Not really. I was going to get something in the hotel dining room. Why?"
"I just arrived in Miami, and I thought we'd get together. I want to discuss your promotion."
"Promotion?"
"I told you I had plans for you. Be outside your hotel at six o'clock. I'll drive by and pick you up."
Expecting another chauffeured limousine, Janet was surprised to see a Porsche 911 convertible pull up with Danica behind the wheel.
"Whenever I'm in Miami, I like to take my roadster out," the influencer explained.
"This is your car? I thought it was a rental."
"It's all mine. I keep it in a garage at my condo."
"I never knew you had a place in Florida."
"I've got homes all over. You should see my beach house in the Hamptons."
"And you got where you are today just by hyping beauty products and fashions on the Internet! Amazing!"
"I hate to disillusion you, but I do have other interests, some that are much more lucrative. In fact, that's why I'm here in Miami: to take care of some business. That's also where you come in. I'll need your assistance."
Moments after the two women entered the quiet, near-empty restaurant, Danica excused herself, claiming the necessity of visiting the ladies' room.
"You go on ahead," she told her employee. "I'll catch up with you in a few minutes."
No sooner did Janet sit down at a table in a private dining room than a waiter appeared and placed a drink in front of her.
"I didn't order this," she told him.
"Your friend did. She said to tell you she got an important phone call and that she'll be tied up for a while. You're to enjoy your drink and go ahead and order."
Janet picked up the cocktail with the sliver of pineapple on the rim of the glass. No one seemed to care that she was not yet old enough to drink.
I don't suppose it matters since I'm not driving.
She took a sip. Damn! It tasted good.
By the time the waiter came to take her order, the glass was empty. He quickly refilled it. Halfway through her second cocktail, she wondered what had happened to Danica. By the time she finished the last drop of her third drink, she no longer cared.
"Ah, you're right on time," a middle-aged man in an expensively tailored suit said in a thick foreign accent. "I like that."
He walked into the room and sat in the chair opposite Janet. Although she could not place his face, the stranger looked familiar. Had she seen him on the news?
"Excuse me, but you obviously have mistaken me for someone else."
"No. Your, uh, employer described you to me. Your name is Janet, is it not?"
"Yes. That's me, but I wasn't expecting anyone else."
"Good. Because I'm not into threesomes."
"Excuse me?"
"Threesomes. As a working girl, you ought to know what the word means," he said smugly.
"Look. I don't know what Danica told you, but ...."
"Who's Danica?"
"My employer."
"I made the arrangements through your madame, Mrs. Villazon, although I doubt that is her real name."
"Madame? I'm not a hooker."
"Let's not play games," the man said, grabbing her by the wrist.
"Let go of me."
"I paid a great deal for your services tonight, and I expect to get my money's worth."
Janet screamed for help, but no one came.
"Enough of that!" the man said, pulling her toward him.
Terrified, she reached into her handbag and found the gun Danica had given her for protection. If there was ever a time when she needed protecting, this was it.
* * *
Danica Grace, one of several aliases the attractive brunette used, saw the large stack of hundred-dollar bills on Ruben Orbison's desk and smiled.
"Well done—as always," the head of the secret government agency declared.
"Thank you," she replied and began putting the cash into her Louis Vuitton briefcase.
"What happened to the girl?"
"She died—poor thing. An overdose. She was distraught over the shooting and took her own life."
"Is that really what happened?"
"No, but that's what the police believe. Not that her name will be involved in the official story. I'm sure I'll read in the paper that the ambassador died of a heart attack while home in his bed."
"True. His superiors won't want it to get out that he was killed by a prostitute. But you're sure no one suspects you orchestrated the assassination?"
"I'm positive. I made all the arrangements under an assumed name on an untraceable burner phone. When I spoke to the waiter, I identified myself as Mrs. Villazon, a purveyor of high-priced call girls."
"And what about the young woman's family and friends?"
"I made it perfectly clear to them that I hadn't seen Janet since the makeover and that she was lying when she said she worked for me. I suggested she did so because she was too ashamed to admit to them how she was really able to pay the rent on her apartment. It makes sense, doesn't it? After all, what person in their right mind would pay a young girl that kind of money to comparison shop cosmetics?"
"You are a devilish creature," Orbison laughed. "I hope I never get on your bad side."
"If you did, Ruben, I'm afraid that you wouldn't stand a chance," the highly paid contract killer declared as she locked her briefcase full of cash. "I didn't get to be a multibillionaire by playing well with others. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go post a video on YouTube. I'm giving a review on the Clé de Peau lip glorifier and refined lip luminizer."
"I think I finally get why you like being an influencer. It's because the Internet is like a giant web, and you're a spider waiting to trap all those unsuspecting girls you enthrall with your talk about makeup and fashion."
"I prefer to think of them as my minions, my army of soldiers willing to do my bidding on the off chance that they'll become Cinderella and live happily ever after."
Salem wanted to be a fashion influencer, but Jimmy Choo doesn't make heels in his size.
