Nicebomber

by Charles, Colleen

  After my dad’s assistant, Susan, brings me coffee, she casually asks, “So, has your girlfriend gotten the call from Memory Muse yet?”

  I frown, confused. “Who? What call?”

  She clucks her tongue as if I’ve lost it. “The one your father arranged.”

  “I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about,” I say with a shrug. “Memory Moo? What's that? It sounds like a brand of milk that's infused with Gingko Biloba.”

  She rolls her eyes. Susan doesn’t suffer fools lightly. If she did, my dad would fire her posthaste. “My, aren't you the funny one! I wish your father had a sense of humor like that. No, Memory Muse is a charitable organization for elderly people suffering from dementia. When Jack found out that your girlfriend serves as Pinky Applebaum’s private care nurse, he contacted him to find out about her. Turns out the old man spilled about your girlfriend’s lifelong dream of owning her own home healthcare business. So your father gave Memory Muse a tremendous amount of money to offer her a home healthcare division of her own. I assumed that's why you came here today... to thank him. Your father isn’t the master of good deeds, you know. You must have inspired him.”

  My head spins like a whirling tumbleweed of thought. If I weren't already sitting down, I'd probably fall down.

  My father offered Keeley her own company to run... and she didn't tell me?

  And he didn’t tell me?

  Why?

  Could this have been the real reason she took me back so easily? She was still pissed, but she didn't want to ruin her chances of making more money and having her own business? I search for other answers, other reasons, but none come to mind.

  She played you, dipshit. Just like every other manipulative woman. Keeley isn’t who she appears to be. Maybe she never was.

  Anger just dangles in the back of my throat, mixed up with the betrayal coursing through my body like poisoned blood. All this time she's spent trying to teach me to think of others instead of myself. Could it be that she's actually the selfish one? My head reels as I struggle to inhale and keep myself conscious. The room spins and pitches so badly my hand holding my coffee shakes.

  My experience on The Fiancé floods back in a rush of pain and embarrassment. When I came into it, I thought it'd be a square deal—that I'd be judged entirely on my own merits, and whatever the outcome, I could claim it as my own.

  “Shane, are you okay?” Susan says, her kind eyes watching me. “I thought you’d be thrilled.”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” I mumble. “Keeley’s perfect for something like that.”

  Instead of being judged on my own merits, I found out that the whole game was rigged, and that I wasn't a real player in the game or even really a person at all—I was just a disposable commodity, something to be used up and exploited for higher ratings and bigger ad buys.

  Jesus, my stomach flips over again and again, refusing to stop.

  Clenching. Releasing. Clenching again.

  The door to Dad's office opens, and he pokes his head out, smiling. His cigar's back in his hand, sending up plumes of smoke like an old locomotive. “Come on in, Shane! Can’t wait to hear about your new idea as Director of Benevolence for Cupbrella!”

  I walk into his office on shaky legs, and he shuts the door behind me. “So, tell me what's on your mind,” he says, gesturing to a chair. “You know, now that you’re a director, you don’t need to get permission to run with something you feel has merit.”

  I keep standing, even though my equilibrium still feels off. In another time and place, his warm words would have pleased me. Not today. Not when I feel like the bottom of my life just fell out from underneath my feet. “Did you get these Memory Muse people to offer Keeley her own healthcare company?”

  He pauses a beat, then laughs, shaking his head. “Did Susan tell you that just now? My assistant? Damn. I told her it was supposed to be a secret, but she never heard a juicy piece of info she could keep to herself for more than ten seconds. Yes, Shane, I did that. But listen, don't tell Keeley, okay? Let’s just let this be our little secret. Her reward for everything.”

  The gears in my head come grinding to a halt. “What? She doesn't know you were behind this?”

  “Christ, no! I wanted to do something nice for her, after everything she's done to help you. I wanted to give her a chance to help as many other people as possible. Let's face it, the world needs more trained, capable nurses to assist the elderly. And I'm not just saying that because I'm well on my way to being elderly, either. And before you get any big ideas about running this company, I plan on cheating death and living forever.”

  I realize I've been holding my breath and exhale slowly, collapsing into the chair with relief. “When I heard... I thought...”

  Dad raises his eyebrows at me, puffing his cigar. “What? That it was a bribe, so she'd keep seeing you? That she knew and kept it from you on purpose? Shane, believe me, I know how hard it can be to trust people and to have faith in them. At the first sign of trouble, it's easier to dismiss them all as a bunch of rat bastards than to give them another chance. That was something your mother and I fought about endlessly, and you know what? After all these years, I can finally see that she was right. There are people in this world who are out to hurt you, son—like those ghouls from that reality show you were on. Half of life is about building walls to keep them out. But the other half has to be about finding the people to let in past those walls, or you'll find yourself alone and miserable at the end of it all. Oh, sure, you'll be plenty safe. But you'll never be happy. I learned that lesson quite recently, actually. Almost too late.”

  I nod. For once, I’m enjoying one of his diatribes. “I understand.”

  “Still, I'd prefer you didn't tell her I was involved in this,” he adds. “See, I didn't do this for any kind of adulation. I did it for the same reason your mother would have done it—for the same reason she always insisted that our charitable donations had to be anonymous, no matter how much I wanted to use them as good publicity for my fledgling business. Doing the right thing needs to be its own reward, or it's meaningless. By now, I'm sure you understand that.”

  “I'm not sure how comfortable I am keeping things from Keeley, now that we're so close,” I admit. “In fact, I’m falling in love with her. Trust and openness are important in a relationship.”

  “That's a shame. I really wanted to do this the right way, without it getting out. But I do understand your thoughts on this. If she’s that important to you, if you see her in your future, then you do have to tell her eventually.”

  “Well, if it's that important to you,” I concede, valuing this newfound truce with my father more than I can articulate. For the first time in a long time, I want to please the man. “I guess I can keep a lid on it for now but not forever. I don't see the harm in a slight delay.”

  He leans down, clapping me on the shoulder. “Thank you. At least wait until she signs on the dotted line. If something falls through, there’s no need to tell her at all. So, what did you come here to talk about?”

  After the emotional rollercoaster I've just been on, I'd almost forgotten. “Well, remember those USO shows you used to tell me about?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Keeley

  Less than a month after Shane had the USO idea, I stand in an outdoor pavilion filled with excited military personal, watching a veritable parade of celebs on stage.

  Ordinarily, properly planning and executing a show would take several months—according to the official organization's initial estimate, at least. But when we contacted celebrities to participate, Jack Kleinfeld's money opens a lot of doors... and so does Pinky Applebaum's name. It's truly amazing how many famous people started out in children's television and admired Pinky when they were kids.

  Alanis Morissette performs several songs from her latest album. She used to be on Nickelodeon's You Can't Do That On Television, which was shot on the sound stage next to Bobbin' With Applebaum. When we got in touch with her, she stil
l remembered how sweet and supportive Pinky was when she was just starting out as a child actor.

  Jennifer Love Hewitt and Julia Stiles both give impassioned speeches about the need to support our troops, to rousing applause—not to mention a decent number of wolf-whistles from the men in the crowd. Hewitt was on Kids Incorporated, and Stiles got her start on Ghostwriter.

  Stacy “Fergie” Ferguson does a few songs too—she was also one of the stars of Kids Incorporated.

  The final act is none other than Paul “Pee Wee Herman” Reubens, reprising his classic character with the help of Laurence “Cowboy Curtis” Fishburne.

  When they're finished with their comedy skit, the airmen clap and stomp their feet in appreciation. According to the program we set up, this should be the end of the show. But Reubens holds up his hands, quieting them.

  “We've had a great time performing for you today,” he says, “but now it's time for you folks to meet the real star of the show. For years, this man was a friend to all children, and an inspiration to everyone on this stage. Without him, half of us wouldn't even be here, and all of us would have been deprived of one of our dearest colleagues. So if you remember watching Pinky Applebaum every day after school, go ahead and scream your Adam’s apples out!”

  A joyous shriek rises from the crowd. I laugh, clapping.

  The curtain parts, and Pinky wheels himself onstage, a portable mic pinned to the front of his goofy old costume, his trademark corkscrew gray hair going every which way but adhering to his head. The airmen all get to their feet, hooting and screeching excitedly. Pinky positively glows with happiness, and I see a small tear run down his cheek. Flyer stands right next to him, golden tail flagged with excitement. Even though the dog can’t hear the applause, he shoots out a lone bark.

  “Thank you, you're much too kind,” he says. “I should be the one giving you the standing ovation, for your bravery in defending this great country of ours. But, unfortunately...”

  He gestures at his missing leg, and the audience laughs.

  As Pinky continues his spiel, my phone blips with an email notification. I've been expecting one—I've been corresponding with the people from Memory Muse ever since I got the call from them, and they said they'd send me the final set of paperwork to e-sign today.

  I scroll down the contract, almost blowing past the section that lists the investors they told me about. But then I come to a sudden stop when I notice that there's only one investor there, one BrellyCorp LLC.

  Really? Just one? All this money to start my own company, and it's all from a single source? How can that even be possible?

  The corporate counsel I hired said the contract is beneficial for both sides and he couldn’t find a reason why I should turn down the deal. I guess I should remember what they say about gift horses. I should keep in mind that this has been my lifelong, and until now, wholly unattainable goal. I should just scroll to the bottom, sign the fucking thing, and submit it.

  I should do that.

  But something tugs at my gut, telling me to wait.

  Instead of hurling headfirst into my future, I open a new tab on my phone and look up BrellyCorp. At first, nothing useful comes up—but after flipping through the first three or four search pages, I find a familiar name.

  Kleinfeld.

  Specifically, Jack Kleinfeld.

  This seems like too much of a coincidence to be dismissed. And didn't Shane once mention that his father's name is Jack?

  I can't remember his first name for sure, but I do remember that his father invented that idiotic Cupbrella. I look it up... and sure enough, it's the same guy. Which explains the whole “BrellyCorp” moniker.

  Did Shane know about this and deliberately keep it from me? Did he tell his dad to do this for me just to soften me up, so he could swoop in afterward and shake my world? Has he not changed at all?

  The timing does seem suspicious. I get the news from Memory Muse, and within a day, Shane just happens to show up and say he's sorry? I didn't think anything of it at the time. I just assumed everything was going my way, like some damn Julie Andrews movie.

  I don't know what's going on here. But I don't like being kept in the dark, and I feel like this revelation ruins everything. I truly thought I'd been offered this company on my own merits, and now it turns out that it's just about who I know and how they're playing me.

  Not just they. Shane, who I had somehow—stupidly—convinced myself I could trust, even after all the bad behavior he's shown me. I took a leap of faith, and where did I land? In the gutter.

  I shove my phone in my pocket and walk around the perimeter of the crowd until I get backstage. I show my pass to the security staff and look around until I find Shane. When he sees me, he beams a big smile.

  “Keeley! We did it! It was a total success! And wasn't Pinky great? I know I probably should have told you he'd be going onstage at the end, but I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  I step closer to him and stare at his face until his smile droops. “Yeah, that's not the only secret you've been keeping from me, though, is it?”

  Shane squints, confused. “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “I mean your father is the reason I was offered my own company, Shane.”

  He scrubs a hand down his face. “Oh.”

  Bizarrely, his face almost seems to brighten, which only makes me angrier. I shove him hard, sending him a few steps backward.

  “Yes,” I can feel the fury rising in me like a sea monster from the depths. “How the hell could you not tell me something so important? We’re supposed to be in a relationship. Best friends, trust and all that. Telling each other about the minutia and never leaving out the important things.”

  He puts his hands up as though he's surrendering to the police. “Okay, look, just calm down. I can explain.”

  “Don't you dare tell me to calm down! I get this call saying I got this because of my stellar record and talent, and then I find out you and your dad were pulling the strings the whole time? Like, oh, we looked into your professional history, and we decided you were just such a darn good nurse that we'd hand over the reins to a million-dollar enterprise? What an absolute crock of shit! I must be the world's biggest moron to have believed that line! What kind of sick game are you running on me here? You think you can basically buy my love, is that it? Spend enough cash and boom, you get the girl who thinks you hung the moon? I can't believe I even helped you arrange this whole show, just so you could stab me in the fucking back!”

  His face falls into a mask of sadness and guilt. “Listen, I get why you're upset, but none of this is what you think it is.”

  Popping my hands on my hips, I heave out a breath. “Oh? Explain that one to me! This should be good!”

  He looks into my eyes. “First of all, I had no idea he was going to do this. I only found out afterward, totally by accident. He didn't want either of us to know, because he wanted the act to speak for itself. All of the charitable donations he makes through BrellyCorp are anonymous. He didn't want any recognition for it. And he didn't do it because he thought it would make you stay with me. He did it because he knew how much you like to help people, and how good at it you are. You inspired him with everything you’ve done with me. That was a pretty impossible task, but you still managed it.”

  If I lose my damn mind right here, I’ll know the exact moment the fall of ruin happened. “Don't try to sweet-talk your way out of this! Even if everything you just said is true, why in God's name wouldn't you tell me about it when you found out? Didn't you realize I'd discover the truth eventually?”

  “Of course, I did!” he exclaims. “That's why I didn't think it was such a big deal not to mention it until after your lawyer gave it the okay. Dad asked me not to because he honestly believed the gesture would be meaningless if he took credit for it. I told him I'd keep his secret, at least for a little while. If I'd known you would jump to these kinds of conclusions when you found out, though, I never would have agreed to it. I wasn't think
ing. You know me—you know that sometimes, I don't consider these things as carefully as I should. That was entirely my fault, and I'm very sorry.”

  I feel myself start to cry. “I just... you can't do that, Shane, you know? You can't keep things from people you care about. It's so fucking hard for me to trust you.”

  He puts his hands on my shoulders gently. “I know. Believe me, I know. And I promise, if you stay with me, I'll never hide anything from you ever again. I'd never do anything to hurt you, I swear. I...” He pauses, fighting with himself for a moment. “I love you, Keeley.”

  I let out a sob, collapsing into his arms. The anticipation of what I’m about to say holds my emotions in a vice grip, pulling them up out of the gutter. I believe. I want to believe. Because... “I love you too, Shane. So much.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Shane

  The next day, we wake up in my bed in a glorious tangle of arms, legs, and sheets. And love. As I shake off the fog of sleep, I think about the success of my USO show.

  And how my life has done a complete one-eighty in the blink of an eye.

  “You certainly look pleased with yourself,” Keeley notes happily, running her fingers over my abs.

  She flashes that smile that curls my toes because it’s reserved only for me. I capture it in my heart and let it land. “Shouldn't I be?”

  “Hell, yeah. Pinky was so ecstatic at being in front of an audience again, hearing all that applause just for him. I don't think he had any idea how many people still treasure the memory of his show.”

  “I'll admit, I had no idea either,” I say, covering her fingers with mine. “But it was wonderful to see. And frankly, I was totally unaware that all of those celebs had gotten their starts on children's shows! That's crazy!”

  Keeley raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? Even Pee Wee Herman and Laurence Fishburne?”

  “Well, I mean, Reubens was awesome in Blow and Mystery Men, and obviously I was a big fan of Fishburne's work in What's Love Got to Do With It, but...”