Love Sold Separately

by Ellen Meister

  “Sounds like you have inside information.”

  She shrugged, understanding the seriousness of Sherry’s admonition against gossip. “Guess I’m the one keeping secrets now.”

  Dana put in her earpiece and waited for Sherry’s signal as she closed her eyes, meditating herself into a place of peace and focus. She couldn’t afford to think about Adam or Ollie or Kitty or even Mrs. Woodbridge. She had to be in the moment. Nothing exists but your sublime love for these handbags, she told herself. But it didn’t work as well as it usually did. Today, they weren’t the panacea for every problem in the human race. They were just handbags.

  When the red light came on, she was more hyper than usual, compensating for her trouble focusing. “It’s the final day of our handbag extravaganza!” she gushed. She thought she sounded a little too ebullient. Maybe even crazy. But viewers responded, and the show took off like a rocket. Thank God for her training. She could fake it like a pro.

  Today, the monitor was working and she could track the spikes in sales. She oozed and gasped over the expensive satchel bags in nine different colors, the trim, triple-zip crossbody and even the new team spirit medium shopper’s tote, which was available with patterned imprints of major league baseball team logos. That one was the toughest sell, but somehow they were moving.

  The show seemed to drag on and on and on. An endless parade of adjectives becoming superlatives and morphing into sales figures.

  At last, she glanced at the clock and saw that her time was winding down. Dana was elated. She had done it. She had gotten through the show. In another minute, she would pull out her earpiece, unclip her mike and run out the door. It was opening night, and she could barely wait.

  “Vanessa’s not here yet,” she heard Sherry whisper. “You need to stretch.”

  Oh, no, Dana thought. Not again. Not tonight.

  But she had no choice. And so she continued jabbering about the team spirit handbags. So fun! So different! Such a perfect way to show your team pride! Meanwhile, her heart was thudding to the beat of Get out, get out, get out.

  “Small problem,” Sherry said after several minutes. “Vanessa’s stuck on the Long Island Expressway again. You’ll have to fill in.”

  What? No! This was not supposed to happen. Vanessa couldn’t be stuck in Long Island traffic on a Friday. She lived in the city during the week...didn’t she?

  “Don’t worry,” Sherry said. “Won’t happen again. I’ll tell Vanessa she can’t keep commuting from the Hamptons.”

  A lot of good that did Dana now. She had to get off the air this minute. But how? She was broadcasting live. She couldn’t very well just unclip her mike and walk off the air. At least, not without getting fired.

  No, she had to think of something to say. Some way to introduce a promo clip so she could appeal to Sherry off the air.

  But she knew that Sherry would never let her go. She would say that Dana had to stay on the air. There was no one else around to cover for Vanessa.

  That was when she got an idea.

  “I have some exciting news!” she said through the camera lens to the friend sitting on her sofa, remote in hand. “Filling in for Vanessa Valdes tonight is a brand-new Shopping Channel host, Emily Lauren. She’ll be here in just a few minutes, and I can’t wait for you to meet her!”

  “No!” Sherry whispered, furious. “You can’t do that. Emily’s not prepped. She’s not in hair or makeup. She’s just out of a meeting. You have to stay on the air.”

  Dana continued smiling into the camera. “We’re going to break for a promo right now, and when we come back, you’ll be in for a treat. Have a lovely night!”

  “Damn you!” Sherry said, but she scrambled to get a promotional clip on the air as Dana ripped off her mike.

  Sherry came huffing out of the control booth, looking murderous.

  “What the hell was that?” she seethed. Dana noticed that her eyebrows were pulled so close together it looked like they could change places.

  “I have to go, Sherry,” Dana said. “I’m sorry. It’s not open for negotiation.”

  “Are you going to try to tell me you have another doctor’s appointment?” She made it sound like there were quotes around the words.

  “I just...have someplace to be. That’s all. I’m sure you can get Emily on the air in five minutes. She’ll be thrilled.”

  “If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.”

  “Are you kidding?” Dana said. She had expected anger, but not this.

  “You heard me,” Sherry said. “You leave and you’re fired.”

  “No, she’s not,” came a voice from behind. It was Megan, stepping out of the darkness.

  Sherry turned to her. “What are you doing here?”

  Megan shrugged. “I had a sense my client needed me.”

  Sherry folded her arms. “How very...supportive.” Her tone was sharp enough to draw blood. “But I have a business to run, and I can’t have a host who’s not willing to go the distance when I need her. If she leaves, you’ll never see—”

  “You can be as pissed off as you like,” Megan said. “But we have a contract, and she’s not in breach.” She turned to Dana. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

  Dana scurried after Megan to her dressing room, so grateful to her friend that her eyes watered. At the same time, guilt pelted her like a sudden storm. She wished she hadn’t lied to Megan about Sweat City. She deserved the truth. Dana decided she couldn’t keep the secret a second longer.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” she said.

  Megan glanced down at her phone, as if she were barely paying attention. “I’m listening.”

  Dana considered her words as she pulled off the cream dress she had worn on the air. She put it on a hanger, and then grabbed her jeans, which she wriggled into with a jump and a tug. “There’s a reason I’m in such a hurry to get out of here tonight,” Dana said.

  Megan glanced up from her phone. “I’m listening.”

  “It’s the show,” Dana said. “I never really quit Sweat City. I’m playing Mrs. Woodbridge. It’s opening night.”

  There was a moment of silence as Megan took it in, and Dana braced herself for the recriminations. She was ready to apologize. To beg forgiveness. To take full responsibility. She pulled on her T-shirt.

  “I know,” Megan finally said.

  Dana stared at her. “Huh?”

  “I’ve known for weeks. Why do you think I came here today? I wanted to make sure that witch didn’t try to keep you a minute late tonight.”

  “I...” Dana said, trying to catch up. “How did you find out?”

  “I know you too well, Dana. You should have realized you couldn’t keep such a big secret from me.”

  “But you seemed so—”

  “It took me a little while, I admit. I didn’t want to believe you would lie to me. So when you moved on and didn’t wallow in grief and anger over leaving Sweat City, I told myself you were just evolving into the kind of person who could let go, and that it was a good thing. But that night after I rushed over from the dentist...”

  “And I pretended to have a headache,” Dana offered.

  Megan nodded. “Even then, I bought it. But when I woke up the next day and replayed the scene, I realized you didn’t have a headache until I brought up the idea of going out together. It made me suspicious enough to sneak into the Sweat City rehearsals the next time I was downtown, and there you were.”

  “But why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because I knew it was torturing you and you deserved it, you little shit. Why didn’t you think you could trust me?”

  Dana threw her arms around her friend. “I’m so sorry!”

  “I would hope so.”

  “I should have told you.”

  “Of course you should have. You
should never lie to your manager.”

  “Or your best friend,” Dana added. “How can I make it up to you?”

  Megan said she would think about it, then walked Dana outside and hailed a cab for her. She opened the door.

  “Wait a second,” Dana said before getting in. She reached into her purse and pulled out a comp ticket for that night’s performance. “Will you come?” she asked, holding it toward her friend.

  Megan snatched it from her. “Of course, you idiot. I wouldn’t miss opening night.”

  “Do you want to share the cab?”

  Megan shook her head. “I’ll stay behind and smooth things over with Sherry. Now go break a leg. I’ll catch up with you after the show.”

  An hour later, Dana was in makeup and costume, sitting in the green room with the rest of the cast as Nathan reviewed his notes from last night’s dress rehearsal.

  “How’s the crowd?” Raj asked when Nathan wrapped up.

  “It’s early, but I think we’ll have a full house,” Nathan said.

  Some of the cast members ambled out so they could get a peek at the auditorium as it filled, but Dana stayed put, her head down as she focused on clearing out the stress of escaping Sherry’s stinging tentacles so she could get to the theater, as well as the shock of discovering that her quivering assistant had been framing Charles Honeycutt. There was no room in her head for any of that. She had to concentrate on getting into character. Tyrel, who sat across from her, did the same thing, folding his trembling hands into his lap.

  After a few minutes, she heard Nathan say, “Can I help you?”

  Dana looked up and had a moment of déjà vu. Ari Marks stood in the doorway beside the red velvet curtain. Only this time, she wasn’t in the middle of watching a sex tape.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Tyrel came to attention and gave Ari Marks the once-over. “Ooh! Now this one’s a keeper,” he stage-whispered to Dana.

  The detective’s face remained serious. “I have some news,” he said to Dana. “I thought you’d want to know right away.”

  She stared at him, hoping it was about Kitty Todd’s real killer, and grateful that he still cared enough to deliver important news in person.

  “What is it?” she said, but before he could answer, another person appeared behind him. It was Megan, looking alarmed.

  “Everything okay?” Dana asked her.

  “Yes and no,” Megan said, a little breathless. “Vanessa showed up on set, so that’s the good news.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “Sherry’s here, with Emily.”

  “What?” Dana felt dizzy with shock. This was a disaster.

  “I just wanted to let you know so you have time to process the information. I thought it might throw off your game if you spotted her in the audience during the performance.”

  “But...what are they doing here?”

  “Sherry found out about the show. Someone tipped her off.”

  Betrayal. The thought of it made Dana sick. “Who could have told her?” she asked, glancing at Ari. Would he have done such a thing out of spite?

  “Not me!” he said.

  “No, no,” Megan said. “It was that efficient Shopping Channel rumor mill. Apparently, some receptionist from the executive suite has a friend in the Sweat City Company and she found out. She whispered it to a coworker who whispered it to someone else, and the next thing you know it got back to Sherry. She thought it was some idle rumor, and since you denied it and she couldn’t trace it back to the source, she let it go. But not completely. And then, after you ran out tonight, she wrung a few necks until someone pointed at the receptionist, who admitted it was true.”

  The assistant director poked her head into the room and gave the ten-minute warning.

  “Wrap this up,” Nathan said to Dana. “I’ll be calling places soon.”

  He left, and Dana looked back at Megan. “So I’m fired?” she asked. “Right after the performance?”

  “Maybe sooner,” someone said, and then Sherry appeared in the doorway with Emily Lauren.

  Dana put her head in her hands. “And I thought learning that Ollie was being arrested for murder would be today’s big news.”

  “I’m not arresting Oliver Sikanen for murder,” Ari said. “That’s what I came here to tell you.”

  Sherry turned her glare from Dana to Ari. “But he’s guilty,” she seethed. “And he tried to frame my boss.”

  Ari shook his head. “Ollie isn’t the killer.”

  “Then it was his friend,” Sherry said. “That Kimmo. Ollie must have hired him to—”

  “It wasn’t Kimmo, either,” Ari said.

  “I knew it!” Dana said. “I knew Ollie couldn’t be guilty. Kimmo, either. I just couldn’t put the pieces together.”

  “This might help,” Ari said. “The forensics report just came in and it led us to the truth, though we still have more questions than answers.”

  “What did it reveal?” Dana asked.

  Ari cleared his throat. “The trajectory of the bullet plus the powder marks on Kitty’s hand tell the story. It wasn’t a murder staged to look like a suicide.” He paused. “It was a suicide staged to look like a murder.”

  Tyrel, who had been listening to the whole conversation, said, “I’m confused as hell.”

  “You’re in good company,” Megan added.

  But in a chill of understanding, Dana got it. The whole picture.

  “Kitty Todd’s murderer was Kitty herself!” Dana said. “She pulled the trigger. She committed suicide, but not before enlisting Ollie’s help. He put the gun back in her hand after she killed herself, and did everything else she had asked him to do.”

  “Why would he help her like that?” Sherry asked. “And why would Kitty stage her own murder?”

  “We’re still working on that,” Ari said.

  “I knew she was twisted,” Megan offered. “But it still doesn’t make sense.”

  It does if you go deep inside character motivation, Dana thought. It was all a matter of getting in someone else’s head and thinking like them.

  “I think I can help,” Dana said to Ari. “In her own disturbed way, Kitty loved Honeycutt. Loved him obsessively. She felt like they were meant to be together, and was willing to do anything to get him to see that. And to get him to leave his wife for her. She believed, deep in her core, that this was the right thing to do. Kitty felt like she understood the depth of their love, and was fulfilling some mission by getting Honeycutt to see that. And so she slept with other men to get him jealous. When that didn’t work, she tried blackmailing him with a sex tape. She convinced herself that each of these things would work. But when it became clear at last that there were no other doors open for her, she snapped. It wasn’t even the first time she had a breakdown.” Dana paused to look at Sherry, who nodded.

  “We had to hospitalize her once after she tried to kill herself. But I thought she was better.”

  Dana continued. “I’m taking a leap here, but playing a character like Mrs. Woodbridge helps me understand the mind of a person whose rage short-circuits their reason. Once Kitty knew that Charles really didn’t love her, she became consumed by irrational anger. His rejection shook the foundation of her beliefs, and she decided that if he didn’t love her, he must be... I don’t know. Evil. Or something like that. In any case, she felt justified in wanting to hurt him as much as possible. She was so irrational it was worth dying over. So she came up with this elaborate plot to kill herself and frame him as the murderer. Sending him to prison for murder.”

  “You know, I can buy all that,” Megan said. “But how did she convince Ollie to help her?”

  “It was a perfect storm of two damaged souls,” Dana said. “Ollie worshipped Kitty. She was a substitute mother for him. And he had so much death in his young life
that it must have seemed natural to him that yet another mother figure would be taken from him. I mean, he probably objected at first—even begged and pleaded. I can imagine his terrible desperation at losing her. But Kitty knew how to manipulate him. She had the power to convince Ollie that by helping her do this thing, he was somehow saving her in a way he had been unable to save his own mother.”

  “This is some sick Freudian shit,” Tyrel said.

  “Like Shakespeare meets Quentin Tarantino,” Megan added.

  For the first time, Emily spoke up. “So Kitty staged her suicide to look like a murder that had been staged to look like a suicide.”

  Tyrel stared at Emily then, and didn’t look away. He was trying to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t glance up. Dana was more interested in Ari’s reaction to her revelations than in any drama between these two, and studied his face.

  He looked at her, and she noted the wave of emotions that flickered across his eyes, like a whole movie in a single second. She thought she saw admiration, and maybe even longing. But it was quickly crowded out by hurt, then washed clean with stoicism. He set his jaw back to its inscrutable position and locked it in place.

  “And I thought you were a twisted bitch,” Megan said to Sherry.

  Sherry ignored the insult as she tried to process the news. “So Ollie’s not a killer,” she said, like she was thinking out loud and trying to decide if the news was a relief.

  “An accessory,” Ari said. “And then there are the obstruction of justice charges.”

  Sherry grunted. “If I’d known she was this psychotic, I never would have let her back on the air.”

  Dana glanced at Tyrel, who’d spent a lifetime dealing with mental illness. If he was hurt by Sherry’s remark, he didn’t show it.

  “Was she medicated?” he asked.

  Sherry threw her arms up. “That wasn’t any of my business.”

  “Nah,” Dana said to Tyrel. “I doubt she would take medication.”

  Ari folded his arms. “And how do you know that?”

  “Because hand tremors are a possible side effect. I just don’t think Kitty would have taken that risk. Her hands were her livelihood.”