Black Is the New Black
Authors: Russell BlakeNarrator: R.C. Bray
Duration: 6H 49m
My Rating: ⭐⭐⭐🌑🌑
Tags: Detective - Comedy - Thriller
Quotes:
Black is hired on the job where people start dying around him. Seems to be some kind of pattern there. (Or in all of his books ?)
Pretty much like previous Black’s book, but instead of Rappers it’s Modeling business. Being completely outside of that domain it is interesting to see what’s going on there.
A little bit of everything - fighting with secretary, talking to cop-friend Sam, talking to parents, drinking.
Probably author had found some formula for successful writing which works and gets books sold.
Quotes:
The waitress’ face resembled photographs Black had seen of deep water ocean fish: sallow skin, eyes bugging out as though her internal pressure was too great for her flesh to contain. She gave him a disinterested, dead glance and went back to her position by the espresso machine, practicing her silent Italian dismissiveness, her talents wasted on the likes of him.
He took his time, savoring every quarter’s worth of coffee as he watched a parade of exotic cars drift by piloted by the powerful or their mates, each a glass and steel cocoon of privilege that strove to distance and elevate the lucky occupants from their fellow man. A trio of stunning women walked by speaking what sounded to him like Russian, and he wondered silently how the world had changed so much since he’d arrived in town. Black’s bursts of self-awareness and introspection were few and far between, but occasionally he’d be overcome by the sense that he’d been left out of some important dialogue everyone else had participated in, missed the memo that explained how life actually worked.
Why would anyone want to hurt them? They’re just bodies to hang clothes on. Mood setting for the garment manufacturers.
Juan Ramon had a lead foot and cheerfully ignored the speed limit signs on the toll road from the airport, preferring to barrel along at double anything sane. Once through the tollbooth he also demonstrated a remarkable lack of interest in stop signs, as well as any claim to the right of way that other vehicles might have had. Black cringed at five near misses to which Juan Ramon seemed oblivious, taking each as a test of his manhood.
the modeling game was fiercely cutthroat, filled with envy, bitterness, and recriminations, the stakes high and the careers short. He watched as the talent pushed their food around their plates, pretending to eat while avoiding most of the meal, and wondered at a business where anorexia could be the norm rather than an affliction.
after twenty years in La La Land, Black had seen everything, so he didn’t jump to conclusions, and certainly didn’t judge anyone by his press coverage. If he’d had a dollar for every film or television star who was married or in a high-profile relationship with a female celebrity, and whom he knew from being on the inside secretly enjoyed a firmer hand on the tiller, so to speak, he could have been comfortably retired. The entertainment industry was oddly hypocritical, and when careers depended on perceptions, you kept your private preferences out of the limelight.
They acted like the world was a playground, where they could pursue any idiotic daydreams they cooked up and turn them into viable projects. And what was the most frustrating for him was that, more often than not, they’d been successful at it – always as a result of luck versus acumen.
Much of what he, or Stan, did was to question and probe, waiting for an inconsistency to appear or for the stories not to add up. Unfortunately, that was a time-consuming and thankless process, and usually required a larger cohort group than just one.
but a model’s often only as good as her relationship with the person repping her, and if Demille’s not handling things personally anymore…well, that’s a judgment call every model needs to make for herself. There’s no right answer. Some will do really well with a bigger company behind them. Others might feel like they’re working for a faceless entity with a lot more talent to push, and no real personal relationship or loyalty.
The barista was new, barely up to the task, and Black decided not to spar with him, the young man’s attitude lacking the requisite snide superiority that made Black’s blood boil. He had no doubt that within a few days he’d be as dismissive and arrogant as a veteran, but Black would fight that battle when the situation warranted and not before.
Gabriel seemed to relax now that Black had assured him that he was basically an idiot. A transparent tactic, to be sure, but one that usually worked on those who wanted to believe that they held the upper hand.
he went in search of the inevitable 24-hour diner somewhere in the far reaches of the casino, where he would be surrounded by kindred spirits who’d lost everything and were hell-bent on winning it back before they had to go to work or home to explain what had happened to the rent.
He didn’t like the man’s arrogance or dismissiveness, and he was convinced Demille wasn’t on the level. He wasn’t sure about what, but he believed himself to be a good judge of character, and Demille just struck him as…wrong.
Demille’s words stung, but only because they contained an element of truth. He didn’t like Demille one bit and it showed. But it was also unprofessional to formulate a theory based on personalities. Demille was right – Black was trying to make the case fit Demille, which was amateur night, and beneath him.
The driver continued down the hill, unobserved by the sleeping neighbors, safe behind their faux Tuscan walls in a neighborhood where money insulated them from the ugliness of the outside world.
Black felt an odd sense of letdown, prepared for another in a long string of scuffles with the punk, and only as he stepped toward the cash register did he realize that this was what it was like to have things go his way – no drama, just his cup of steaming hot coffee delivered quickly and efficiently. He’d become so accustomed to defending himself from the threats in his environment he felt disappointed when they didn’t manifest, and wondered at what his life had become, where even the purchase of a morning beverage was a call to arms.