The Deal

Thirty-Four-Bernadette

I'm hit with the same flashback again. The faceless man comes towards me, and like I always do, I plunge the knife into his chest. I watch him tumble down the stairs like a bouncing ball until his neck hits the wall, hard. No one would ever survive a fall like that. The memory fades and this time, I'm seated on the barstool, with hands gripping mine. The voice whispers; "Let's make a deal", while a faceless man in front of the counter pours a drink. Another faceless man comes toward me.

The sound of Shakira's "Can't Remember to Forget You" echoes in my ears. I force my eyes open to a slight crack and hear Thabo's voice once the song ends. The smell of medication and warm bed sheets fills my nose. The only problem is when I try to move my head slightly, it feels like several daggers that are stuck in the side of my head are shifting along with my movement.

"Honey," Yvonne bellows as she towers over me. "Oh, thank God. Don't move. Please, lie still."

Thabo joins her as well. His face filled with both anger and fear. There are bags underneath his eyes too. He's been lacking sleep. Yvonne is teary-eyed, and I can tell there's been some sobbing. She's masking it with a wide grin.

Thabo's cold hand clutches mine. "Babe, trust me. Don't move, just lay still."

"I thought you said you'd change the ringtone," I finally utter. It felt like I was mumbling instead of actually speaking. Not sure they both heard me.

"Oh, right," Thabo replies. "Work has been hectic. Don't worry, I'll change it today."

Guess I was wrong. Yvonne rolls her eyes at him, then claps my other hand. As soon as I realize both my husband and best friend are holding both my hands, the feeling of safety and security overwhelms me. It feels so peaceful, just lying in bed and being comforted by the only two people in the world who care about me. It feels like I've woken up from the coma again.

"Do you remember...." Yvonne hesitates. "What's the last thing ya remember?"

"I......." That's when it falls on me. The trailer. Armani pushed me to the sink, and it hurt like hell. My pulse rate quickens. "I......."

"Babe, relax." Thabo shoots Yvonne a warning look, but Yvonne ignores him. "You're getting tensed. Don't think about anything else."

Yvonne's fingers tighten around my hand. "Bee, listen to me. You were attacked. Someone pushed you and ya head hit the sink. Do ya remember who?"

"Yvonne, give it a rest. Don't stress her out."

"Oh, shut up, ya damn bombaclot!" Yvonne snaps, but even though it's taken me a bit by surprise, Thabo's clearly not phased. "You won' keep acting calm and collected, I won't."

She clutches my hand with both hands. "Bee, who don' did this to ya?"

"Armani," I utter. "She pushed me. Armani tried to kill me." I stare at Yvonne in her narrowed eyes. "She could have killed me. Why did she do that?"

Yvonne says nothing. Doesn't express shock. She just stares at me with—confusion?

"Who is Armani?"

I furrow my brows at Yvonne. "The make-up artist. I regularly share drinks with her after shoots. She's been a close friend since we worked together on the show's first season."

Yvonne shoots Thabo a worried look. "I don't know who you're talking about. There's no one called Armani working on set. We never hired a make-up artist named Armani. We just recently fired our last stylist because he was being inappropriate with one of the make-up artists, who ended up quitting."

My heart skips two beats. This can't be happening.

"Wait. What?" Thabo's even as shocked as I am right now. "You're saying a stranger has been disguising herself as one of your crew? And none of your directors or whatever made her out? Are you people friggin' insane? What sort of carelessness is this? My wife even went shopping with this stranger."