The Highlander's Time

Chapter One

    Will the person responsible for this mess, please stand up?

    The downtown Los Angeles office of Lila Matanucci, present day.

    “Where the hell is my double mocha cappuccino with extra foam?” The slam of a hand hitting a wood surface rocked through the posh workspace.
    “It's on your desk next to your backup cell phone and near the pink stapler.” Jenny Lofstrand braced herself for her boss's tirade. Of course her cafe au lait was right where it belonged. It had been hot fifteen minutes ago when she'd set it on Lila Matanucci's desk. Unfortunately, she'd dropped off the drink before the diva pop star stumbled into the office with her sunglasses perched on the bridge of her plastic surgery-perfected nose.
    The big, super-dark tinted sunglasses served as a warning to Jenny, as well as Lila's assistant to her personal assistant, Charlzie. Lila was hung over—again. She'd crash sometime around ten this morning, and if they were lucky, wake up demanding a double shot of vodka on the rocks just before quitting time. The ice cubes’ sole purpose was to give the appearance Lila was trying to stick to her diet.
    You'd think two stints in rehab would get you off the bottle. Ha! Only when you sing an aria with a choir of angels .
    Lila was the epitome of the young twenty-something pop star drunk on fame. She'd done exactly what her star-maker had said was the stellar move to create the most drama and boost her record sales. She'd taken the Britney effect and the Paris snobbish ditzyness to an extreme that urged the paparazzi to pitch tents on the sidewalk outside her Hollywood Hills mansion, and prod the tabloids to pen tons of articles about another of ‘her particular kind’ gone astray.
    The crash of the stapler hitting the glass divider separating Lila's office from the reception area jerked Jenny out of her musings. You are so sad. If this is what it costs to gain fame, I'll pass .
    She'd more than pass on some golden opportunity that involved partying like there was no tomorrow. Getting drunk was fine on occasion, but she liked her liver sans cirrhosis.
    The truth was she'd be damned before becoming a worn-out-too-soon woman like Lila.
    “I'm going to be sick.”
    “Trash can,” Jenny and Charlzie chimed at the same time. Their fists came up and pumped in the air three times. Charlzie's index and middle finger formed a 'V', while Jenny's remained fisted. “Rock smashes scissors.” Jenny sounded apologetic to her own ears. “Good luck.”
    “If she gets punchy, you're taking over,” the long drink of brunette sitting across from her toned. The rattle of her casters on the plastic floor mat chorused the stomach churning sound of puking coming from the office. “I don't want my dad getting all upset over another black eye.”
    “Just hold her hair, and watch for flailing elbows. I'll help you if she gets out of control.” Which was a given. Lila hated being hung over, but couldn't lay off the booze. “I'll call her dad.”
    “ No! ” The shout came an instant before they listened to a fresh bout of retching. The hard hit of Charlzie’s footfalls working their way across the floor ended with Lila groaning. “Get the fuck away from me, bitch. I don't want your filthy hands on me.”
    And why did I take this job? Because Lila is helpless . That was Jenny’s great downfall. She'd taken care of her mother when she'd battled cancer. She'd supported her father after her mom's death, giving him the constant comfort he needed while he mourned his loss. When he died of heart disease, she bid farewell to her small town roots but couldn't shake her character flaws.
    She was a pathetic woman attracted to the needy and lost souls of the world.
    If you needed a handout, Jenny would give you the last ten bucks in her wallet.
    If you were desperate for a mother figure, Jenny exemplified the maternal spirit.
    It was worse than having the armchair psychology term—the disease to please. In her case, it was a disease of being needed by the dregs of society.
    Jenny sighed as she stood. The foul odor of vomit and vodka struck her like a fist to the gut. “You okay, Charlzie?” Hurrying into the office, she shook her head at the sight of Lila slumped on the floor. Holding her hand over her mouth for a moment, trying to calm her own tummy, Jenny swallowed hard against the bile burning her throat. She motioned for Charlzie to get out of striking range with a tilt of her head. “This is out of hand, Lila.