by Marcia Ware
“Lanie,” Sissy cooed, greeting her boss with air kisses. “You look absolutely amazing. Happy New Year!”
“Well, Gwen Hammond,” Lanie replied in a soft, husky voice that might have indicated one too many cigarettes in her younger days. “Happy New Year to you as well. Ha!” she teased, pushing Sissy out to arm’s length to regard her outfit. “Don’t we look like polar opposites tonight. Am I the bad guy and you the good?”
Sissy laughed, but chose not to directly respond. “Oh Lane, you’re such a card,” she said instead. “Listen, I want to introduce you to a friend of mine…”
“Maggie West,” Lanie said, cutting in. She half-folded her arms, propping the elbow of the one that held her wine on top of the other. “No introductions are necessary. Charles and Deana and I were just chatting about you. Were your ears burning?”
Maggie’s smile exuded genuine warmth. “Lanie, it’s really an honor,” she said. Reaching her arm around little Gwen, she began to introduce her. “I want you to meet…”
“Oh, this is my niece, and my namesake, Gwen,” Sissy abruptly interrupted, swooping in between Maggie and Gwen. “Gwennie, this is a very important person in my work life, Ms. Hoyos.”
“Hi,” young Gwen said brightly.
“Hi yourself,” said Lanie.
“I have to tell you, Gwennie has an amazing voice,” Sissy said. Maggie simply gazed at her with a fixed smile, wondering when Sissy had ever actually had the opportunity to hear the child sing. The look on the child’s face expressed similar surprise; a moment not lost on Lanie. Few things were lost on Lanie Hoyos.
“Ah,” Lanie said. “Isn’t that nice? Who knows what might happen for you tonight, Little Miss,” she said benevolently, cupping Gwen’s chin in her hands; the rich red of her fingernails grazing the child’s cheek. “I’ve always said Nashville is an enchanted town…dreams tend to come true here more powerfully than anyplace else it seems.” Gwen’s face glowed with excitement.
“Well…far be it for me to let any more time pass between the meeting of the two most talented women in this town,” Sissy broke in. “Gwennie darling, let’s go see what Charles and Deena are up to. Maggie…Lanie…I’ll just leave you to it, ‘kay?”
“Yes,” Lanie purred, “Why don’t you? Miss Gwen…it was a pleasure.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Gwen replied, practically curtseying. “See ya later Aunt Maggie.”
“Bye, sweet girl.”
As Sissy whisked her young charge away, Maggie returned her attention to Lanie. Her gaze never leaving Maggie’s face, Lanie simply extended her left hand. As if on cue, the tanned and toned Brooke with an ‘e’ appeared with two glasses of white wine.
With a sweet, somewhat mysterious smile, Lanie merely tilted her head in Brooke’s direction. “Chardonnay?”
“Sauvignon Blanc,” the young woman replied.
“Better,” Lanie stated, extending her arm to hold out her old glass. A sweet-faced twenty-something brunette wearing a rather sad but earnest blue taffeta gown stepped up and took the lukewarm wine away while simultaneously pushing her dark glasses up along the bridge of her nose.
“Thank you Beth,” Lanie said. Taking the fresh glasses in hand, she immediately passed one to Maggie. “I know that there will be champagne later, but I would like to propose a toast now.”
Maggie was still somewhat overwhelmed by the command this woman seemed to exude. She knew Lanie Hoyos only by reputation, and what she knew was daunting. Her years of being in a relationship with Richard Davidson however, had trained Maggie in creating a professionally effective poker face.
“Okay,” Maggie said cautiously. “To what are we toasting? The fact that we’ve got a better wine?”
Lanie’s ability to laugh without moving one solitary muscle on her face led Maggie to wonder just how in demand that woman’s plastic surgeon truly was. “I would like to propose a toast to what I believe is the discovery of one of the greatest voices this industry will ever know,” Lanie said. Raising an eyebrow, she continued. “And to the maverick genius that’s going to make sure the whole world gets to hear it.”
Unaware of how confused her expression had become, Maggie was unnerved when Lanie took her arm and led her to a more secluded spot to speak. Deana had been pleasantly occupied by her conversation with Gwen and Sissy; Charles, however, was completely distracted.
“Charles,” Deana said maintaining a smile through clenched teeth. “Please let us not break our necks spying on Maggie and Lanie Hoyos, okay? I’m sure they’re just having a little friendly girl-talk.”
“Right,” Charles replied, finally turning his attention back to his wife. Sipping his drink, he repeated, “Right.”
Lanie offered Maggie one of two plush seats at a small table by the wall. The lighting was intimate, and they were able to more comfortably converse away from the insanity and music of the party. “I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t mean to alarm you,” Lanie said. “But your name has been tossed about for quite some time in the halls of my LA office.”
Maggie’s face registered genuine surprise. “Really,” she asked.
Lanie gave another expressionless laugh. “Please accept my apology for not approaching you sooner, but yes, really.”
Maggie gave a bemused shake of her head as Lanie continued.
“Now, I realize I’m known for bringing my office with me wherever I go…” Lanie began. As Lanie’s fingers splayed in that stylish fashion employed by spokesmodels revealing what’s behind curtain number three, Beth seemingly materialized from thin air and reappeared at her side.
“Maggie, meet my…office. This is Beth. Beth, this is Maggie.”
“Nice to meet you,” the two women said simultaneously. Pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, Beth handed Maggie a card. Artfully printed on impressive stock was Lanie’s information. She gave Beth a kind wink, which essentially cued the young woman to scuttle back to whatever alternate dimension from which she’d emerged.
“Obviously, this is not the place to do any in-depth dealings,” Lanie said. “That’s my personal cell and the address of the apartment I use whenever I’m in town. I loathe hotels,” she sighed with a far-away look and sipped her wine.
Maggie inspected the card. She recognized the approximate location of the address; surmising that if you’re Lanie Hoyos and you loathe hotels, of course you’re going to rent a penthouse apartment in The Gulch.
Lanie toyed with an errant curl, casually winding it around her finger as she silently regarded Maggie. “I’d like to speak with you first of next week after the holidays,” she continued. “Lunch. Tuesday. Noon-thirty.”
It had the tone of a request, Maggie thought; but something told her that if she had plans with anyone or anything less exalted than God Himself, she would have to cancel them.
“I was on the schedule to perform brain surgery, but I think we can put that on hold till Wednesday.”
Finally, the corner of Lanie’s crimson lip curled into a smile. “I knew I was going to like you,” she said. “Glad we connected, darling. See you Tuesday.”
Again, Maggie continued her internal monologue; dismiss the tone…this is not a request. “I look forward to it,” she said aloud.
“Well, that’s a look of undeniable joy,” Joe said as Maggie made her way toward him. Placing his glass of punch on the table, he took Maggie’s hand in his and twirled her around. “Dance with me and tell me all about it,” he said.
As he led her to the dance floor, Maggie felt as though she were floating above the crowd. “Oh Joe, I’ve gotta tell you…I really wasn’t looking forward to this party…”
Joe pretended to be offended. He backed away and held out his arms. “So are you telling me I put all this together for nothing? What a waste!”
“Okay, let me try again,” Maggie said, working her way back to his arms. “You…and the last fifteen minutes were the only real reasons I’m glad I came.”
“Now that’s more like it. So…what
was the deal with ol’ Maleficent over there?”
Maggie laughed. “I kinda think of her more as the long lost, long-legged member of the Corleone family.”
“Okay, I’m officially scared.”
She laughed again. “That’s the label’s Senior Vice President, Elaine Hoyos.”
“She sounds important.”
“She is. And she wants to meet with me on Tuesday.”
“Is she gonna make an offer you can’t refuse?”
“Judging from the way she’s talking, I don’t think I wanna refuse.”
Joe raised an eyebrow. “Well, you gotta make sure you give me the lowdown once it happens. Do you think she’s gonna make you an artist?”
“I dunno. From the way she tells it, she’s a huge fan…”
“Of yours? Seriously?”
“I know!”
“Who-da thunk it?”
“That’s what I’m sayin…”
The two of them reveled in their silliness. “Anyway,” she continued. “I’m curious to hear her game plan. And you will be the first person I call when it’s done.”
“Maggie,” Joe said, drawing her in closely. “I am so incredibly proud of you. I think this very well might be your moment, sweet lady.”
And for the first time in her life…Maggie agreed.
Joe twirled Maggie again and again until she lost her balance and fell into his arms. As he gathered her up, the two of them engaged in exaggerated dance moves, laughing and taking in the moment.
Nursing his fourth drink, Richard fiddled with the napkin Brooke had given him. He managed to distract himself for the better part of the evening shaking hands and networking; dropping Maggie’s name whenever he thought it might serve his interests. But as Gwen made her way to Maggie and Joe, it turned Richard’s stomach to see the three of them acting like a family.
He refolded the napkin and stuffed it in the breast pocket of his jacket. Brooke could wait. In his extensive experience, women like Brooke always waited.
Suddenly, the music died down and a jovial voice permeated the festivities. Following an obnoxious series of taps on and subsequent feedback from the microphone, Duncan Wilder, president of Star Records took control of the program. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said in a booming tenor. “Everybody having a good time?”
The question was met with resounding, somewhat drunken cheers. “Okay, for those of you who have been enjoying the evening a bit too much, I wanna remind you that there’s a shuttle service to make sure the streets stay safe later tonight. For those of you who are still upright without the aid of the wall, the chairs, or anyone around you…”
Laughter emitted from the crowd, followed by a loud whoop from someone at a far corner of the room. “Unlike that guy…” More laughter. “Don’t forget to thank the toilet bowl for being cool on the side, brother!” The laughter was now widespread. Wilder held up his hands to calm the crowd. “Okay, so it looks like we’re about 5 minutes away from a new year…”
The crowd cheered as he signaled to the wait staff to begin distributing glasses of champagne. As he gave instructions, Gwen tried to coax her dad into letting her having one glass. “Not on your life,” he kept saying, despite her protests.
As the clock wound down, Maggie secured a glass of ginger ale in a flute for Gwen, who accepted it begrudgingly. “Cheer up” she said, enveloping the younger girl in a hug. “At least it looks the same.” The two laughed.
As the countdown grew closer, Richard strode across the room, making a b-line for Maggie. Sissy arrived with her glass and zeroed in on Joe. Squeezing her way in between the two of them, she put her arms around both their shoulders. “Happy New year!” she said joyfully. Turning to Maggie, she said, “Make sure you don’t leave without your New Year’s kiss. It’s bad luck not to!”
My having a year’s worth of bad luck would probably suit you just fine, Maggie thought.
Uncomfortable with Sissy’s proximity, not to mention the pushing of the crowd around him, Joe managed to maneuver himself over by his daughter, and turned his focus to the platform, where a giant digital clock was counting down the time on a large screen.
“Two minutes to midnight!” Wilder shouted. The frenzy of the crowd was near fever pitch at this point. Richard passed by Darla, who had been enjoying her evening with the object of her attention.
“Oh my giddy aunt,” she said out loud as she saw where he was headed. She jumped up from her stool in an attempt to get Maggie’s attention; her diminutive frame, however, kept her from being seen. Leaving her bewildered suitor by the bar, Darla worked her way through the crowd as quickly as she could, ducking and weaving past people along the way.
“Thirty seconds!”
Joe reached over to his daughter and gave her a hug. “Happy New Year, my darling daughter.”
“Happy New Year, Dad.”
The crush of the crowd pushed Gwen into her father, and the two of them away from Maggie. As Joe and Gwen laughed at the absurdity of it all, Darla found herself within arm’s reach of Maggie.
Joe and Maggie locked eyes, realizing that the prospect a New Year’s kiss for them was a lost cause. “Sorry,” she mouthed. She smiled and crinkled her nose as she always did in uncomfortable moments. He returned her apology with a smile; a smile that quickly turned to an expression of alarm as he saw Richard approaching.
Richard circled his grip around Maggie’s wrist just before Darla was able to intervene.
“Ten seconds!” Wilder shouted over the roar of the crowd.
Richard whipped Maggie around and pulled her in, their noses practically touching.
“Nine…eight…seven…”
Confetti and balloons prematurely began to fall from their netted places in the ceiling. “Five…four…three… two…one…”
“I’m gonna get my due,” Richard said to a terrified Maggie.
“What the…? Richard, no!” Maggie yelled. Her protest was swallowed up by the cheering of the crowd.
“Happy New Year!” the whole room said in unison.
Music blasted from the orchestra. Richard’s lips barely brushed against Maggie’s as she managed to break and turn away. A silver platter fell to the floor as Maggie collided with waiter carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres.
Caviar, smoked salmon and cream cheese blanketed the fabric of Maggie’s dress. While practically unnoticed by the party at large, those within a few feet of the calamity witnessed the spectacle.
Richard backed away; the nature of the moment made more comical by his inebriated state. “Guess you don’t have to worry about having a second helping of anything now, do ya?” he taunted.
His laughter, however, only brought out a deep anger in Maggie. As Joe shielded his daughter from the drama with a bear hug, Maggie shook off the food from her arms and regarded her ex-boyfriend with a primal sense of disgust.
“How old are you, you stupid jerk?” she shrieked. Richard placed a hand to his ear, his expression signaling that he heard nothing she said, despite the fact that he heard every word. He spread his arms and asked, “What’s your problem?”
Maggie knew that the appropriate reaction would be to walk away. But she knew she had to end this. She approached Richard slowly and carefully. Taking his hand in hers, she smiled…and used her opposite hand to punch him in the face.
“You are my problem!” Maggie shouted as Richard fell to the floor. Surprised by her own prowess, Maggie didn’t falter. She approached a bewildered Richard with a bravery that was otherworldly. Bending down, pieces of food dripped from her gown onto his suit. She didn’t care. Nose to nose, she shouted. “Correction. You were my problem. But if you ever come near me again…”
Too disgusted to finish the sentence, Maggie realized she’d made her point. Astonished onlookers backed up to give her clearance; several witnesses actually applauded her.
Still hugging Gwen, Joe motioned to Sissy. “Help me get my daughter out of here,” he said sharply.
“But Joe, she’s fin
e. Maggie and Richard have obviously had too much to drink,” Sissy countered.
“Daddy?” Gwen asked, attempting to turn around.
Joe’s reassuring smile hid his worry. He took his daughter’s face in his hands. “It’s late, sweet pea. Time for Cinderella to leave the ball. Stroke of midnight, remember?” Looking back at Sissy, who was divided between what was in front of her and Maggie sending Richard to the floor, Joe implored, “Please Sis, take Gwen home.”
As Sissy whisked Gwen away, the child turned, barely missing a humiliated Richard, hand on his bloodied nose, being led to the nearest men’s room by his nursemaid, Brooke with an ‘e’.
“Aunt Maggie?” Gwen called.
“Aunt Maggie will see you tomorrow, sweet pea, she’s um…got a little something on her dress and needs to get it off,” Joe said as he helped usher her away.
Maggie was equal parts humiliated and empowered. Catching Joe’s eye however, she had no idea what to make of the expression on his face.
Darla finally made her way over to Maggie. “Okay sister,” Darla said., “let’s get you outta here.” Tears bubbling over her lashes, Maggie looked up at her with a helpless expression and allowed her friend to get her out of the building.
“Don’t worry sugar,” Darla said as she assisted Maggie into a waiting cab, “I don’t think anyone of any real importance saw what went down.”
Not exactly true, Maggie thought to herself.
Chapter 7
The dress was probably ruined, but Maggie chose to soak it in cold water anyway. She stood over the sink, staring, but not really focusing on what was in front of her. The pain in her hand had subsided to a dull throbbing. Holding it in the water eased the physical discomfort, but her hand was definitely the last thing on her mind.
Somewhere between the agony of her embarrassment and the ecstasy of her time with Joe, Maggie wondered where the events of the evening had left things between the two of them. It didn’t help that nearly an hour had passed and she had yet to hear from him.