“I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate what you do,” Sullivan said. “I get it now. Being a real influencer is a job, and you’re really good at it. I’ll help you take photos and videos so you don’t have to do it all yourself.”
Kia held the phone, but she wished she could toss it off the ride and into the fake lake they were passing, and never take another photo unless it was on her digital camera.
“Wearecute,” Sullivan said proudly.
But do you really, really like me?Kia thought.
chapter 22
The next day,Kia sat at a picnic table a few yards from the Diva. At the window, Deja sang out orders and compliments. Superfans could be annoying, but right now Kia was glad to have someone who was willing to play head chef in her food truck.
“Slay, girl! Looking fly.” Deja tapped an order into the Square. “Two double-bacon-wrapped fig omelets with extra gravy coming up.”
The two cooks Kia had hired in addition to Deja repeated the order, interrupting their rendition of “We Are Family” but singing the orders to the melody. The line to the Kia Gourmazing Experience was as long as ever, even though Kia was sitting by herself. It was possible the line of white Portlanders thought DejawasKia. If only Deja could take over her whole life, and Kia and Sullivan could just escape to a chalet in the woods. (They were notcampingin her escape fantasy.)
Kia’s phone chimed and Lillian appeared on the screen, her tiny Paris apartment visible in the background. Kia wandered in between two other food trucks. Today she was parked at the Hawthorne Asylum. The food pod reminded her of some Lewis and Clark fort, the trucks circled to prevent intruders except those that came through the large wooden gate propped open with the wordASYLUMfashioned in wrought iron above it.
“How are things going?” Lillian asked.
“We’re still gearing up for a lawsuit against a multibillion-dollar company. Sullivan’s friend Nina says we shouldn’t be too worried. It’s just business. But I don’t know.”
Kia walked over to a truck selling microbrew. It was rude to order while talking on the phone, but Kia handed a twenty to a man working and motioned to the taps.
“Which one?” he asked, looking annoyed.
“Any one.”
She waved away the change and tasted the beer. Portland brewers were in competition for the bitterest IPA. When she built Taste the Love Land, it would need a michelada truck. One that served the classic Mexican drink with gummy worms and Doritos.Ifshe got to build Taste the Love Land.
“Does she have a strategy? Do you want me to talk to my mother about it, get her lawyer friends involved?”
“No. Nina is the best according to Gretchen, and you know how Gretchen likes to do background checks. I don’t know. It’ll be fine. Or it won’t. No, it won’t be fine.”
“Are you talking about the lawsuit?”
“We kissed!” Kia blurted out. “Twice.”
“Oh?” Lillian’s voice filled with curiosity.
“It was… fuck. It was everything I ever wanted.”
It had left Kia trembling because she wanted more. Kia gulped a mouthful of beer and sat down at a damp picnic table in between the beer truck and a Mexican food truck.
“Tell me.” Lillian drew out the words.
And it all came rushing out like Kia was a talkative tween swooning over her Love Tunnel crush. She told Lillian about the Tennis Skort and the kiss in the Love Tunnel.
“Sullivan hates social media, but she pulled out her phone while we were kissing and took a picture, and was like,This is goingto make an awesome post. I mean… of all the times to get on board! But I don’t know if any of it means anything. There was literally a crowd of ruggers waiting for us to kiss, and then it was for a post.”
Lillian chuckled.
“Aren’t you going to tell me to stop being an idiot?” Kia asked with a sigh.
“Aren’t I going to be rigid, judgmental, preachy?” Lillian filled in the blanks without a hint of resentment.
“Maybe?”
“I went on reality TV and then quit ballet at the height of my career to be a teacher. I ran off to Paris with my lover. Love changes you, Kia. You see the world differently when you have someone who’s standing next to you forever.”
