The Yoga Club

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The Yoga Club Page 24

by Cooper Lawrence


  Coco grabbed Olivia by the arm. “Don’t look!…. Wait…. Okay now, look, look! Is that Graham Shore behind me?” she asked out of one side of her mouth, as if Graham Shore might read her lips if he were watching.

  “Oh, my god!” Olivia said aloud. Coco put her hand over Olivia’s mouth as Graham Shore looked over at them and smiled politely.

  “Shit,” Olivia said.

  “Don’t worry, he doesn’t know us. He probably thinks we’re just fans who recognized him. He doesn’t know we know Bailey,” Coco said.

  “Right, okay. But we do know Bailey, and we have to tell her,” Olivia insisted.

  “No way. You’re on your own, little sister. I’m Switzerland as far as this situation is concerned,” Coco said.

  “Bailey needs to know! She thinks this guy is the One. We have to tell her he isn’t, ” Olivia hissed.

  “They always shoot the messenger, don’t you know that? It’s never a good idea.”

  “Let’s just call her, take her pulse on the whole Graham Shore exclusivity thing.”

  “Good luck. I’ve been trying to call her for days. I keep getting no answer, and I’ve left, like, five messages. She hasn’t called back,” Coco said.

  “Maybe she’s fallen off a ladder or is trapped under something heavy. We should go over there.” Olivia was close to panic now.

  “Well, if by ‘trapped under something heavy’ you mean Jack Black or Anthony Anderson, then I say we leave her be. Now c’mon, we still haven’t bought you anything but a cookie. You’re gonna need a lot more than that if you’re going to start dating again. You’ll at least need bigger pants.”

  Bailey’s room looked like the scene of a terrible accident, and in a way it was. A heart had been totaled beyond repair. She lay under the covers, unable to speak or feel, just staring at the TV. Not watching any program in particular since she had the sound off, but the motion on-screen was a comfort, making it feel like she wasn’t alone in her room. She knew she would get over this, she just didn’t know when; and it wasn’t going to be any time soon. That’s the thing about breakups; you can get past them eventually—it’s just that no one knows exactly when eventually is going to be. The last bad breakup Bailey had was in college, and here was that post-Damon misery all over again.

  She rolled over to see that her cell phone message count was now at eleven. Not one call from Graham. Maybe it was better that way. She grabbed a pen and paper and decided to make a list. Her list making was epic, going far beyond the pedestrian to-do list. Bailey would make lists of men she still wanted to fuck, plus where and how; things never to say while doing an interview; the contents of a proper medicine cabinet; and things she would and wouldn’t eat for breakfast. Today she decided to make a list of qualities in a potential mate that would never be okay with her. Yet all she could think of was

  1. Must not be named Graham.

  2. Must not have been in the movie Hole Lotta Love or L.A. Existential.

  3. Must not smell like Frederic Malle musk (he did, it was scrumptious).

  4. Must not ever climb Mt. McKinley (as if the mountain were responsible for his change of heart).

  Maybe she wasn’t ready for a list yet. She picked up her BlackBerry again. As she perused her call log, she saw that Saul King had called. She knew she had to call him back since she had this responsibility to CJ, Olivia, and Coco weighing on her. Somehow the doctored tape she was being blackmailed with didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Not now. But she still had an obligation to the others. Maybe that could wait one more day. Then she saw one number she didn’t recognize, so she decided to see who it was. Secretly, she hoped it was Graham calling from a pay phone or some other number saying he had made a mistake. But it wasn’t Graham.

  “Hey, pretty lady! It’s Gert. Had so much fun with you in L.A., and I’m back in New York, and calling you as promised. Dinner Wednesday? Say yes. No, wait, you don’t have to. I’m not giving you a choice. Call and let me know when and where we’re meeting!”

  Surprisingly, this perked Bailey right up, and she started wondering how she could get rid of her puffy eyes by then.

  New list: things to do and people to see while getting over a bad breakup.

  1. Have dinner with Gertie Whitmore.

  When Detective Casey received the package from his colleague in the Justice Department at his mother’s apartment, he knew exactly what he was going to see. The mayor’s DNA was all over the envelopes he’d tested, as was the DNA of this Malcolm Marconi character, who was apparently now CJ’s lover. That was a good angle, as far as Casey was concerned. He knew now that he had someone who might flip on Mayor Quilty if he were charged with a crime and wanted to plead out. Not only that but Bruno’s fingerprints were all over the sex DVD that Bailey had been sent.

  Casey had slyly obtained Bruno’s coffee mug to acquire his actual fingerprints. He knew he had Bruno dead to rights, and Quilty too. All he had to do was build the murder case, figure out who the dead girl was…. and find her body.

  So, the case was progressing as well as could be expected. As far as the mayor and Bruno knew, there was no official investigation—the whole thing had been dismissed as a prank—and the four Sarah Palins appeared to have been hushed by the potentially damaging blackmail packages. Under the guise of taking time off to care for his mother during her chemotherapy sessions—though in fact she was faring quite well—Casey was conducting the investigation from home, making all his calls on a prepaid, untraceable cell phone. He left nothing to chance. He was immensely satisfied for the first time since he had begun working in Greenwich. Nothing pleased him more than being able to work a big case.

  All that was bothering the detective was something he could do nothing about. While the investigation was in full force, he couldn’t be seen talking to any of the four witnesses, though he desperately wanted to see Olivia. He simply couldn’t get his mind off her, and couldn’t shake the memory of her hand touching his arm, or her lips awkwardly brushing his.

  Bailey was excited to see Gertie again. She liked that when they talked she had to be sharp, clever, and the best version of herself she could be. She suggested they meet at Gramercy Park. Bailey got there first; Gertie was twenty minutes late.

  “It’s always the person who lives the closest who keeps you waiting the longest, right? I am so sorry!” Gertie said as she walked toward a very cold Bailey, who for some reason was not angry. She was happy to be out in the cold night air with such a big star, and even though Gertie was becoming her friend, she felt awestruck when she was with her. Bailey wasn’t like that around celebrities ordinarily. She didn’t know why she felt the way she did now.

  “That’s perfectly okay. Welcome back to New York,” Bailey said as she kissed her hello and handed her a little gift she’d picked up at the Mario Badescu spa. She’d seen Gertie’s picture on their wall last time she was there for a facial.

  “Oh, are you the welcoming committee? I didn’t realize. Thank you, sweetie.”

  “Yes, we had a vote, and I was elected. I was going to run for a second year, but we have term limits on that sort of thing.”

  “Repeal them! You are quite welcoming,” Gertie joked.

  “Where would you like to eat?” Bailey asked.

  “I made us a reservation at Union Square Cafe, I hope that’s all right. Their winter menu is the best, and they get all their locally grown greens from the farmers’ market, right across the street in Union Square,” Gertie said. “I love the banana tart with the macadamia brittle.”

  “For dinner?”

  “When you are a grown-up, you can have dessert for dinner,” Gertie said.

  They laughed.

  As they walked toward Union Square, they noticed a billboard with a larger-than-life image of Gertie’s face promoting a new movie.

  “My nose looks so wide. Is it that wide?” she said as she touched her nose.

  “Well, from here it looks to be about eight feet. I dunno. Do you consider that wide?�
� Bailey said.

  “God, it’s so humiliating that they force you to see yourself that big. Even with retouching, nobody’s self-worth is that good.”

  “It just takes some getting used to,” Bailey replied. “For example, I have a fifty-foot billboard of myself at my house. I’m pretty okay with it now.”

  Gertie laughed.

  “Sorry. I haven’t seen that movie yet,” Bailey said.

  “It’s okay, nobody has,” Gertie joked.

  “Well then, I guess dinner is on me,” Bailey said as she opened the door to the restaurant and stepped aside like a gentleman, beckoning for Gertie to pass through first.

  “Don’t be afraid of how much I eat, Hollywood,” Bailey joked.

  “I’m not afraid of anything.” Gertie looked her square in the eye, making Bailey momentarily self-conscious. Bailey shivered slightly as the open door sucked the cold air in behind them.

  After an amazing dinner—including the banana tart—Gertie suggested they go to Mercury Lounge to hear a friend’s band play. Mercury Lounge was the record label promoters’ favorite venue to bring their nascent bands; in fact, it was traditionally known to be a good-luck charm. Bands would perform there just before they broke big. Everyone from the Strokes to the Killers to Lady Gaga played there right before they went global. Tonight it was a new band called Lather, Rinse, Repeat, who, as friends of Gertie Whitmore, were probably going to be huge.

  Bailey loved that Gertie seemed to know good music, so she was willing to forget the fact that Mercury Lounge held some bad memories.

  “Oh, god,” Bailey said as the cab crossed Houston Street and deposited them on the corner of Essex. “Last time I was here I had a pretty ugly breakup. Haven’t been back since.”

  “Oh shit, are you going to be okay?”

  “Nah, it’s cool. It was ages ago. Christina set me up with Adam Duritz. You know, the Counting Crows guy with the Sideshow Bob hair?”

  Gertie cracked up.

  “The whole thing was a disaster from the very beginning. He was working his way through Hollywood.” As was I, Bailey thought to herself. “And, well, he forgot that he’d invited another girlfriend that night. But I was the one he kept off to the side, and he tried to play it cool all night, running back and forth between us.”

  “What a dick. What did you do?”

  “Yeah. Well, suffice it to say that after a few shots of Maker’s things turned pretty ugly.”

  “Ooh! Maker’s. Love it.” Gertie grinned.

  “No way. Not tonight…. Let’s make it tequila.”

  Tequila it was, and another wild night at the Mercury it was. Gertie moved right up to the front of the stage and began dancing with Bailey almost impulsively. Since the club didn’t have a backstage area, everyone seeing the band knew that Gertie Whitmore was there. But in case they didn’t, halfway through the second set, her drummer friend Lance called her up onstage during the song that was going to be their hit. Gertie danced and sang along and was introduced to the swaying crowd as they went wild. If Gertie was there, it was the place to be—her presence reaffirmed everyone’s confidence in their social choices that night. But what they didn’t expect was what happened when Gertie got off the stage. Truth be told, Bailey didn’t expect it either. Gertie, caught up in the moment, leapt off the stage—practically knocking Bailey over—leaned in, and planted a kiss firmly on her mouth. The fact that it didn’t make the papers the next day, or YouTube for that matter, was astonishing. But the Lower East Side wasn’t the Meatpacking District, and down there people were usually cool about that sort of thing.

  Gertie and Bailey had a great night. Bailey couldn’t tell if they were two girls caught in a moment, hanging out starting a wonderful friendship, or if they were on some kind of date. All she knew was that she was having a blast. The one thing the girls did agree upon was that they were both sick of all of their relationships ending in these not so private, hideous breakups. So maybe it was time to just focus on an exciting, new friendship.

  Seventeen

  As Far as the Gay Crow Flies

  Since the beginning of the whole fiasco, Olivia had remained completely dedicated to her yoga practice, not missing a day, and sometimes going in the evening as well as to the 8:30 A.M. class. As a practicing yogini, she really enjoyed having dharma buddies—yoga was not only easier with friends but so much more fulfilling and enjoyable. Olivia sent out an e-mail to everyone insisting they come to 8:30 yoga Saturday morning. She said, “No excuses, no regrets. Just be there,” and one by one she got her responses.

  8:30?? Fuck you. I’ll be there.—CJ

  What a great idea! My karma runneth over.—Coco

  C U Saturday—B

  On Saturday, Olivia got there by 8:00, excited to see her friends. She was bright-eyed, energetic, and waiting by the front desk, as if she were the one hosting yoga that morning. Her hair was in a perfect ponytail, and she was wearing the new yoga clothes that she’d bought in SoHo with Coco.

  “My, don’t you look like you are ready to take on the world? Or at least a really good warrior pose,” CJ said as he walked in and kissed Olivia hello.

  “Thanks! Oh, here comes Coco,” she said.

  “Holy crap, it’s freezing out there. What happened to global warming?” Coco said as she took off her ski gloves to rummage around her bag for her yoga card. “Anyone hear from Bailey?”

  “She e-mailed me back saying she would be here today, but that’s about it. You guys?” Olivia said.

  “Nope,” CJ and Coco said, almost in unison.

  Coco disappeared into the dressing room.

  “Oh, my god, did Coco tell you what we saw in SoHo the other day? Or rather, who we saw and what he was doing?” Olivia asked.

  “Yeah, she called me that night. So, are you going to tell Bailey?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. I thought I would wait to see how things were going.”

  “I wouldn’t tell her if I were you. They always shoot the messenger.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Just then Bailey bounced in. She was obviously happy—no, ecstatic.

  “Hey, everyone!” she said as she fervently kissed each one of them, including Coco, who’d reappeared out of the dressing room. “It’s a gorgeous day, isn’t it?”

  “Um…. I guess,” Coco said. “It’s kinda cold.”

  “Nonsense, it’s exhilarating. C’mon, let’s go salute the sun!” Bailey said as she skipped into the yoga room.

  “Well, I guess everything is okay,” said Coco, eyebrows arched, to Olivia and CJ as they followed Bailey, yoga mats in tow.

  After yoga the foursome decided to do brunch again, but this time at the less formal, less white diner across the street. Hot dish was the main course. Since Coco was never all that hungry after exercise, she was always more engrossed in the gossip. Today she was mostly interested in Bailey’s gossip—she was really curious to know where things were with Graham, considering what she’d seen—but CJ got started by holding up his pinkie.

  “See this?” He waved it around. “This is where I have Malcolm. Completely wrapped around this little finger.”

  Coco grabbed it. “It’s kinda bony, are you sure it will hold him? He’s pretty big,” she joked.

  “What do you mean?” Olivia asked. “Why is he wrapped around your finger. What happened?”

  “I told him what his boss did, what we saw, and that we had his DNA on those envelopes. He caved immediately and is going to give us access to anything we need. I’m going to put Detective Casey in touch with him. Let him take over from here. Isn’t that what he wants anyway, Olivia?” CJ asked.

  “Yep. He doesn’t want us involved. My adventure gene was thrown out with my placenta. I just want this taken care of,” Olivia said. “Rob told me on the phone that as long as we don’t appear to be talking to any law enforcement, it’ll look like we’re complying with the blackmail and we should be safe for now.”

  “That reminds me, Saul King called. He has s
omething for us on that Blackbeard character, but I haven’t had a chance to catch up with him,” Bailey said.

  “Saul has more information? Why didn’t you tell us? When did he call?” Coco asked.

  “I don’t know, Monday?” Bailey said.

  “Monday? It’s Saturday. Why haven’t you called him back yet?” CJ asked.

  “Well….” Bailey was being coy, almost at full blush. “I have been a bit preoccupied this week. Every night, as a matter of fact.”

  “Didn’t you see Saul at work this week?” Olivia asked.

  “Well, I didn’t go in on Monday or Tuesday, then he was out on assignment for two days, and yesterday I took a very, very long lunch.” She giggled.

  “Okay, spill it. What’s going on with you and Graham? Did you elope? Why all the secrecy?” Coco said.

  “I’m glad you guys are sitting, because you would not believe the week I had. Graham broke up with me on Sunday. I crawled into bed right after and didn’t get out until Tuesday afternoon, which is good because I was planning on taking the week, but midweek my life changed,” Bailey told them.

  “You and Graham broke up? Why? ” Olivia asked.

  “Get this, he had an ‘epiphany’ on the mountain. I’m not the one for him. That’s what he said. It’s ridiculous, I know,” Bailey said, almost laughing at the absurdity.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetie,” said Coco as she reached out to touch Bailey’s arm.

  “Thanks,” Bailey said.

  “I see he doesn’t just play a prick in the movies,” CJ said.

  “No, I’m not gonna do that. I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want me,” Bailey said.

  “You’re being awfully strong about this. I mean, the guy just broke your heart!” Olivia exclaimed.

 

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