“Oh my…” Tess began.
“God.” I finished.
Tess and I looked at each other, not sure what to say. I felt vaguely guilty for putting Colin in this situation. And I felt a certain annoyance with Tess for putting me in this situation. And then I felt guilty because I knew Tess hadn’t knowingly put me in this situation. And I also felt annoyance at Parker for enjoying the fact that she was the one to reveal this information. Guilt and annoyance.
“How do you know this for sure?” Of course, Tess’s cynicism always kicked in first.
“My assistant Blair’s older brother used to play rugby with one of Dalt’s old girlfriend’s stepsons. She slipped me a note when she saw you guys talking.”
“Why should we trust your staff’s gossip ring?”
“Um, I got a confirmation before I came over here, Tess. I’ve got two interns whose mothers know Colin’s mom from Doubles.”
“Any other details we should be aware of?”
“Well, it’s not like I went digging. I am trying to run a party here, girls. Speaking of which, I think the Hilton sisters are going to try to hop on the bar. I’ve got to go.”
“Well, I guess I’m just going to have to keep my guy away from your guy,” I said.
“Guess so,” Tess said, not backing down.
We were both annoyed, that was clear. I’d have time for guilt later.
I made my way back over to Colin, who by that time had extricated himself from Dalt and was trading business cards with an older, bespectacled man who looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place.
“It is such a thrill to meet you, really,” I could hear Colin say as I got closer. “Honestly, Writer’s Roundtable is all I watch anymore. I can’t tell you how inspirational it is.”
“Good to hear, Colin. Listen, I’ll definitely be in touch.” The older man shook Colin’s hand enthusiastically and headed for the bar.
“Who was that?” I asked, coming up beside Colin.
“That was Walt Colmby,” Colin answered happily.
“Oh, from that PBS show. I knew he looked familiar. That guy is so obnoxious.”
“I know, I can’t stand him,” Colin agreed.
“You just said his show was inspirational!” I said.
“Lena, dear, the man might be an imbecile, but his show sells books. You’ve got to play the game a little,” he said, scanning the crowd.
“Hey.” I touched him on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry about that run-in with Tess’s date earlier.”
“Dalt used to date my mom. Just so you know.”
“I know. Parker just told me. I hope it wasn’t too awkward.”
“No big deal. Happens all the time. New York’s a small town in a lot of ways. We’ll just keep moving.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said.
We shared a smile and I grabbed his hand to make our way through the crowd. Just as I turned, however, I suddenly found a familiar face planted in front of me—Jake. New York was a small town, indeed.
He looked first at me, wordlessly, and then shifted his gaze toward Colin, offering only a cool once-over. It was our first meeting since that infamous night a couple weeks earlier. I hadn’t known what to say to him—and I still didn’t, even with him standing right in front of me.
I paused, looking at Jake, trying to get a read on just how rude he intended to be. He appeared to be alone—Cecily was certainly nowhere in sight. No doubt, he had already moved on to someone else.
“How are you, Lena?” he asked.
“I’m okay. Busy.” I paused. “How are you?”
It was like a conversation between two former co-workers who happened to run into each other on a subway platform.
“I’ll be fine,” he said and, after a brief pause, he turned and walked away.
“Jake—”
I moved to follow him, but Colin grabbed my hand. I watched him as he slowly disappeared into the crowd.
“This night really isn’t off to a great start,” I said to Colin once I had recovered. “I wonder where Gavin and those guys are anyway?” I looked around the room, searching for friendly faces. Nothing.
“Aw, fuck ’em—we were having more fun before we got here, anyway.” Colin bent down and kissed my neck. Maybe it was time to go, I thought.
“Lena?”
I couldn’t place the voice immediately, but I did feel a visceral shiver. When I turned my head, I saw none other than Sleazy Cheese standing before me. The whole room was turning into a funhouse, with a newer, bigger, scarier monster lurking at every turn.
He looked all of twelve years old in his rent-a-tux and shellacked hair. He held two martinis and sipped thirstily from one. He was obviously thrilled with his discovery.
“Oh, hi, Chase. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Guess not.” He was beaming now, looking directly at Colin. Dammit, dammit, dammit.
“Chase, you remember Colin.” I tried to sound nonchalant. It’s not like I couldn’t talk to another guest at a party, after all.
“Oh yes, I remember.” Cheese smiled.
Chase, it seemed, had in fact grasped the idea of subtext.
If there had been any question as to whether the little runt would run right back to Mama to tell on me, his positively giddy expression provided the answer. In fact, the only thing I could imagine that would take his mind off the utter glee of having been admitted to this power-packed room would be to rat on me to Nadine. He was the principal and Colin and I were the two kids making out in the bathroom.
“I didn’t realize you two knew each other on a personal level,” Cheese said with an exaggerated wink.
I ignored the question, but Cheese’s attention had suddenly been diverted.
“Nadine! There you are!” Cheese waved wildly. As if on cue, Nadine appeared out of nowhere, a swirl of smoke and sequins. She took Chase’s other martini.
“Well, hello, Lena,” Nadine smiled slowly at me. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Have you been plucking invitations from my mail again?”
I looked at her, the layers of foundation spackled on her aging face, the gross abuse of body shimmer that made her look like a roller-skating queen circa 1976. I didn’t know what to say or how to proceed. I knew she wanted me to explain why Colin and I were together, to put me on the spot and exert her authority in front of her little lover.
“Hi, Nadine. You remember Colin, don’t you?”
“Oh, I do, indeed.”
“Nice to see you again.” Colin looked dazed at this point.
“Lena.” Nadine held her eyes on Colin. “I’m afraid I have a problem here.”
“What’s the problem, Nadine?”
“Well, dear…” She looked me in the eye now. “I’m not sure how this arrangement is going to work for us.”
“This arrangement?”
“Yes.” Her eyes moved lazily from Colin and then rested on me.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“One needs to be aware of appearances in this business,” she said icily.
“I’m still not quite clear what you’re speaking of.” I let my eyes wander from Cheese and then back to Nadine.
There was a pause and then she said, “I mean you can’t be fucking the guests, sweetheart. No matter how cute they are.” She smiled.
I don’t think I had ever hated Nadine more than I did in that moment. I felt every petty comment, every last-minute job dumped on my lap, every stolen achievement and verbal slight, every obnoxious Post-it, every single ounce of strength that I had used to stave off my Nadine rage, to rise above, to keep perspective, and to persevere collide together, igniting one unstoppable, brilliant flash of rage.
“Nadine, you and your little man-child can go fuck yourselves.”
The first thing I noticed was Cheese’s face, which had turned an ashen white. And then I saw that Colin had frozen in place sort of like a statue. Things were in slow motion, as I might have imagined, and I felt my body set itself in a s
elf-defense posture, as if I expected to be punched. Really, at that point anything was possible.
I found myself staring back at Nadine, who looked as if she were just recovering from a severe blow to the head. I wondered what would come next, but not in a frantic, worried way. Even in my shock, I knew what I had said—and I didn’t care. I would not plead Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity. No, I’d done the deed and there was no turning back. I felt strangely calm. Not heroic or validated or triumphant—just peaceful and calm—similar to the feeling of well-being one often assumes after vomiting.
At least things were clear now—sides had been chosen. A moment in which one chooses to hurl epithets at one’s boss is not a moment rife with shades of gray.
“You are so fucking fired, Sharpe.” Nadine bellowed the words in a martini-saliva spray. I could feel the crowd pause for a moment, examine our status, and then return to their business upon noting the low gossip quotient.
It was time to go.
chapter 10
The next morning was not what I had always imagined it would be. You see, I had given a great deal of thought to just exactly what this morning would be like—my first day of freedom. Of course, last night was not how I imagined my last day on the job would be, either.
It was supposed to have been a graceful exit. I would have a farewell dinner, or at least a gathering for drinks at a swanky bar. Perhaps the Royalton or the Paramount—something symbolically equivalent to my ascension into the elite media hierarchy. I would wear Armani, of course, black with a few well chosen pieces of jewelry and unforgiving stilettos elevating me heads above the rest. I would nurse a flute of champagne while a stream of network executives and fellow producers crowded around me wishing me well, subtly palming me their business cards as they looked pleadingly into my eyes, mentally begging that I take them with me, remember them, come back and save them from this sorry life. My departure would have been the subject of water-cooler chat for days—ever since I had called a meeting with the E.P. (bypassing Nadine, of course) to let them know I’d be leaving. Of course, there were counteroffers, grand sums of money and luxurious perks casually mentioned during a steady succession of expense account lunches at the Four Seasons. But with the three-book contract and the TV development deal, it was just sort of sad really. My parting words would be wise and philosophical. I would offer kind words for those with whom I’d toiled, great optimism for our collective futures, and just a few, ever so subtle yet excoriating digs at Nadine. But she didn’t matter all that much anymore—her days were numbered given that she had let a talent like me slip through the network’s grasp. I would float above the masses, untouchable as I was already half-gone, catapulted ahead toward stratospheric professional success.
Instead, I found myself swimming up from sleep, facing the fact that I had no job, no source of income, no hope for a recommendation. What I did have was one brutal hangover. Pieces from the night before were beginning to realign in my head. Leaving the party. Running out with Colin behind me. I remembered a bar—and drinks—and then a diner and fluorescent lights, and finally—oh-so-vividly—a toilet, my toilet. So I had made it home. Colin wasn’t around, but my clothes were off.
I didn’t have the energy to get up. No, it was worse than that—I couldn’t imagine having the energy to get up ever again. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, no. But even though things had gone completely astray from my mental game plan, I still couldn’t help but be glad that I would never ever have to go back to that job again.
I heard the latch on my door open and Colin appeared, carrying a brown paper bag. He smiled at me and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Good morning,” he said finally, and handed me an ice-cold bottle of Poland Spring and two aspirin tablets.
“My hero,” I said huskily, and drank from the bottle.
“That was quite a night you had, young lady.”
“So there’s no chance that I might have just been asleep for the past twenty-four hours, huh?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Oh Jesus, what have I done?” I fell back on my bed and covered my face with my hands.
“Well, you got quite a bit done, if you must know.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot. Nadine’s an idiot. Cheese is an even bigger idiot.”
“True. But they’re idiots with discernible sources of income.”
“You hated that job. You were dying to leave.”
“I know, but this isn’t how it was supposed to happen.”
“Look, you’re better off just putting Face to Face behind you. I’m telling you, after my segment airs, we are never watching that show again.”
“Assuming they still go ahead and air it after last night’s drama,” I said, pulling a pillow over my face.
“What? What do you mean?” Colin sounded concerned.
“I’m just saying, I can totally see Nadine doing something like that. Just for spite,” I said.
“Wait? Are you really serious?” Colin was definitely concerned.
I pulled the pillow off my face. “What’s wrong? Are you upset?”
“No, no, I’m not thinking about me.” He sat up a little straighter. “I was just thinking of all that work that you did.”
“You’re so sweet,” I said, but I still sensed that he was tense. “I’m just being cynical, though. Even Nadine doesn’t have the authority to pull it off the schedule at this point,” I said reassuringly. “Besides, your uncle will make sure it airs.”
“You’re right. I’d better give him a call. Okay, no more work talk,” Colin said, clearly feeling better. “You know, I was thinking this morning that we should take a trip. Do a little exploring now that you’ve got some free time.” He looked at me expectantly and then his eyes lit up. “We’ll go to West Virginia! How about a little white-water rafting?”
I again realized how different our worlds were—how a month or two to “explore” was a natural occurrence for Colin, and a parallel universe for me. But he made me feel I was part of his world and that maybe it was possible for me, too. And I liked that. For a second, I began to believe that things really would be okay.
Until that is, I talked to anyone else. Of course, there was sympathy and compassion—but these kind words were inevitably followed by a painful pause and then the question: What do you think you’re going to do?
This time it was Tess posing the question, as we sat down for tea on her terrace.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about my skills.”
“Yeah?” Tess sounded hopeful.
“And I’ve realized that I have none.”
“That’s not true. You just need to get out there and start looking.”
“You know, I’m actually quite happy not doing anything at all. The hamster wheel that was my life has stopped and I feel fine. Things finally feel a little peaceful.”
“You’re awfully philosophical today,” Tess said.
“It’s just that I guess I always felt a little guilty dating Colin on the sly. Maybe, in some ways, I deserved to get fired,” I said pensively.
“Lena, you don’t have anything to feel guilty about. You gave way more to that show than it gave to you. Besides, Nadine’s dating her assistant, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I rest my case.”
“You know, maybe it’s just too much to ask to have everything at once—personal and professional satisfaction.” I felt a mini-epiphany coming on. “Maybe I should just enjoy my relationship and be happy for a while.”
“Lena, that’s a beautiful idea, but you need to be realistic. Your relationship isn’t going to pay your rent.”
“You’re such a downer.”
“So you’ve told me about five thousand times. By the way, how are you with money? Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Thanks, Tess.”
“And promise me…” She paused. “That you’ll ask me before you ask him.”
/> “I’m not asking anyone.”
We sat there silent for a moment.
“Lena, have you talked to Jake at all?”
“No,” I said brusquely. “Have you?”
“Well, I ran into him a few days ago on the street.”
“Really?” I tried to feign mild curiosity, as if we were talking about a former acquaintance of mine, perhaps someone from the gym.
“I know we haven’t really talked about what happened in Easthampton.”
“Because there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Okay,” Tess said, willing to drop the subject.
“You don’t agree?” I guess I wasn’t quite ready to let it go.
“I think…” Tess chose her words carefully now. “I think he was trying to tell you something and he went about it in the wrong way.”
“I can’t believe you’re taking his side,” I said, even though I knew she wasn’t.
“I’m not, Lena. I’m really not.”
Silence.
“So, what did he say? Jake, I mean.” I hated that I wanted to know. I hated that I had to ask.
“We talked about his new gallery. He’s meeting with a bunch of new artists. Stuff like that.”
More silence.
“How did he seem?”
Tess thought for a moment. “Sad,” she said finally. “He seemed sad.”
And then the subject was closed. There really wasn’t anything left to say.
“I might go to West Virginia with Colin.” The words came out quickly, as if I wanted to erase the previous discussion topic.
“What?” Tess put down her teacup without taking a sip.
“You’re going where?”
“We might take a trip together.”
“You’re going to West Virginia with Colin?”
“Yeah, I think we’re going to go white-water rafting. Absorb nature. Just spend some time alone. It’s nice knowing he wants to be with me, you know.”
“Well, I guess I can’t argue with that, can I?”
“Finally, you’re going to trust me? I win?”
“You win, Lena. You win.”
When Parker arrived at French Roast, I was cozily ensconced in a corner table, surrounded by the Sunday paper, which I had almost entirely read for a change. My days now consisted largely of caffeinated beverages and reading material. I wasn’t complaining.
Live from New York, It's Lena Sharpe Page 13