Page 1 of The Emerson Effect
ONE
Twila
“Happy Friday, Bitches!”
Joey, Callie, and I raise our glasses and cheer at Raven’s shout before sipping from our margaritas. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth as pain streaks through my skull from the frozen, tart concoction.
I hate brain freeze. But I love frozen margaritas. What’s a girl to do?
We usually have girls’ night at Callie’s apartment, but since summer is hitting, and it’s been a warm, sunny day, we decided to hold it here and take advantage of my pool. Royal and Dallas were here earlier to swim with us, but they left a while ago so we could have our girls’ time.
“God, Twila, you’re so lucky to have your own house with this glorious pool,” Callie says, her words slow and lazy and laced with tequila.
Raven laughs and says, “This is what you get when you have a secret Simply Devotees account. What do your fans get Twila? Just feet? Or the whole enchilada?”
I laugh and shake my head without countering her absurd claim. I know Raven doesn’t really think I have an account on that site. She knows how I make my money. I got really lucky with BingBang.
I started my beauty and fashion account a few years ago as a fun way to pass time. My growth was slow, at first, but then it seemed to take off out of nowhere. Three years later, and I have fourmillionfollowers and enough sponsorship deals to make being an influencer my full-time job. I was also able to buy this house on that income, alone.
But what the girls don’t realize is that things are changing for me. I haven’t told them yet, but my views and engagement rate have been slowly dropping since last fall. And I’m scared.
If I don’t figure out a way to get things back on track, I’m going to start losing clients. If I lose my sponsorships, I don’t know what I’ll do. Use my communications degree to find a traditional job? Maybe. But even if I got lucky and scored a good job, I know I’d be hard-pressed to find one that would pay enough to make the mortgage on this place.
“Hey, are you okay?” Joey asks, and my gaze snaps to hers. “You zoned out for a minute, there.”
I force a smile. “All good. It’s just the margies going straight to my head.”
“Maybe you should hydrate. Here,” she says, tossing me an unopened bottle of water from the cooler beside her.
“Thanks, Bestie,” I say, setting my margarita on the table in front of me so I can open the bottle and chug some water.
I need to put my career fears out of my mind for now and enjoy the rest of the evening with my friends. My problems willstill be there, waiting for me tomorrow. Tonight is for fun and tequila.
“What are Royal and Dallas up to now?” Raven asks Callie and Joey as she snags a tortilla chip and dunks it into the bowl of guacamole sitting in the middle of the table. “Will they survive being away from you two for a few hours?”
I chuckle as her voice devolves into baby talk with that last sentence, her face a caricature of a sad toddler. Callie laughs and chucks a chip in her direction, and Raven opens her mouth, catching it like it was something they’ve been practicing for weeks. Raven lifts her hands in the air, pointer fingers extended as she whoops out a victory cry and chews the chip. Callie and Joey whoop with her while I laugh at the lot of them.
“They’re just fine without us,” Joey says when the furor dies down. “They’re meeting Linc at O’Malley’s for a beer.”
“Where Royal will no doubt serenade them in his quest to best this one at karaoke,” Raven says, nodding in Callie’s direction.
Callie chuckles. “He thinks I don’t know about his littlepracticesessions during our girls’ nights.”
“And he still doesn’t know you cheat?” I ask.
She answers with a smile and a shake of her head. Callie and Royal are both fourth grade teachers at the same school, and she pretty much hated him until last year. They ended up at a conference together in L.A., and when the hotel snafued her reservation, Royal offered up the extra bed in his room. And I guess the old saying is true––proximity breeds familiarity. She got to know him, therealhim, and they became friends. Which led to more. During the convention, they ended up singing karaoke together, and it’s kind of become their “thing.” And they’re super competitive, too. They battle to see who can get the loudest applause, and Callie secretly convinced all of O’Malley’s regulars to clap louder for her so she’ll always win.
“Nope,” she says with a grin. “I’ll fess up someday, I’m sure.”
“About that,” Joey says, raising a hand like she’s one of Callie’s students.
“What?” Callie asks, eyeing her sister suspiciously.
“I don’t know how he figured it out, but Linc knows about your subterfuge. He told Dallas about it the first time they met.”
“Oh,” Callie says, chuckling as she waves a hand in the air. “I told Linc and swore him to secrecy one night when he was wondering aloud about the crowd’s lack of enthusiasm for Royal’s performance. He thinks I’m hilarious.”
We all grin at her for a moment, then we lift our glasses in a silent toast before taking a sip. Raven sets her glass on the table and leans back in her chair, eyeing me thoughtfully.
