Things Are Different Here

eight

"Just be warned, they're all old white men."

I was in the back of a black Bronco, sitting next to Olivia, with her manager in the seat between us. Olivia had a guard in the passenger seat, and he didn't speak a word the entire drive.

"Liv," her manager said in a disapproving tone. The woman had a blunt, black bob, which framed her face perfectly. Her dark skin popped against her coral blazer, and I wanted to peek at the tag and see if I knew the designer.

"What?" Olivia laughed. "Carmen, you know it's true. Mel and his brothers are all old white men. And not like the hot type—they're all very straight and vanilla."

"Sounds just like my type," I laughed.

"Right?" Olivia turned her attention back to her phone, before we pulled into the lot. "I can't believe we have to do all this over some stupid tweet."

"Wait, we're having a meeting with your PR team just because some fans snapped a photo of me leaving your house?" I asked her, and she nodded her head.

"It's that serious," she laughed. "They'll meet if the wind changes direction and blows my bangs the wrong way."

"That has to be so annoying." I said, wondering if my life would ever get to that point. Olivia hardly seemed to have any control over her own life, even when it came down to who she was friends with. I couldn't imagine letting someone have that much power over my decisions.

"I'm only signed to them for another six months, thank god. I signed back when I was sixteen—it's been great for my career, but I've missed out on a lot of things." She muttered at the end, and I felt bad for her.

"Alright, girls, let's get in there." Carmen clapped, as the driver pulled to a stop, and Olivia's guard, Chuck, got out to open her door. I opened my own.

Olivia knew exactly where she was headed, and I let her lead the way. Chuck opened the door for us, and I was shocked when he held it open long enough for myself and Carmen to get through.

The building was smaller than a New York office, but it was still a few stories tall. The entryway was lined with a neutral and black marble that sparkled in the late afternoon sun.

"We're on the third floor." Olivia said to no one in particular, as she lead us to an elevator. We all crammed in, and my bare arm brushed Olivia's hand when I tried to shimmy to the back. She looked at me and smiled, causing my heart to skip another beat.

"It isn't that long of an elevator ride, you shouldn't need to hold my hand." She winked, and I swore all the blood in my veins stopped. I cleared my throat and focused my attention back on the door, which thankfully opened seconds later. She chuckled and exited the elevator.

I was still trying to steady my breathing when Olivia opened the second door on the left. The walls of the room were made up of windows, and in the center of the room, sat a round table with black office chairs. In those chairs sat three stern-looking men, and a fourth man who looked like he could pass for Olivia's twin just thirty years earlier.

"Hi, Dad," Olivia beamed, planting a kiss on the fourth man's cheek. "Hi, guys." She gestured toward an open seat for me to sit in, and took the seat next to her dad. I slid into one of the open ones across from her team.

"Olivia, thanks for coming in," one of the men said. "And you must be Stacy." He said to me, no warmth behind his words.

"That's me," I grinned, but he didn't return it. He simply grunted in response and turned his attention back to his brothers next to him.

"Mel," Carmen sat in the seat next to me, whispering his name to me. "The one on his right is Matt, the other is Mark." I nodded, silently thanking her for the introduction.