by Beth Merlin
I thumbed through US Weekly and People then turned to the New York Times. Staring up at me from the Arts and Leisure section was the cover story on Perry that Alicia had told me about when I was in London. I peeked behind my shoulder. Jamie was wearing earphones, sketching away at his table, and a few interns were at their desks, answering emails. I turned back to the paper and started reading.
The reporter started the article with a deep look into Perry’s childhood in Oxshott, spent surrounded by some of the greatest classical musicians of our time, including his father, Abe Gillman, the world-renowned violinist. Then the reporter dove into his “lost years,” the ones he spent working as a counselor at a small sleepaway camp in Milbank, Pennsylvania, trying to complete his doctoral thesis. Perry was quoted saying, “That was a difficult time in my life. I was running away from some personal issues and trying to find myself. I wouldn’t say the time was wasted, but I wish I had more to show for that period.”
A hard, rough lump formed in my throat. I coughed to clear it, and all three interns turned to look at me. I gave them the thumbs-up, letting them know I was okay and turned my attention back to the Times. I turned to the last page of the article, which talked about Perry’s creative process and all the historical research he did for Elizabeth, and read the last few paragraphs discussing his already acclaimed portrayal of Robert Dudley. Answering the reporter’s question about whether he’d ever personally experienced the kind of fiery and passionate relationship Elizabeth and Robert supposedly shared, he said, “Some of the best relationships challenge you to be a better, different person. They’re usually the ones where you don’t start off on equal or sure footing but eventually, you find your way there. Those relationships are never the lasting ones, though. They require too much compromise, too many concessions. Some romances are intense and wonderful but are simply doomed from the start.”
There they were, his feelings about us and our past relationship in black and white, out there for the world to read. I was folding the paper up to toss it into the wastepaper basket below my desk when the phone rang.
“Georgica Goldstein,” I answered.
“Gideon Cooper,” he replied.
I sat upright. “Oh, hi, how are you?”
“I’m great. I wanted to make sure you got home okay?”
“Yeah, thank you. It’s an easy trip,” I said.
“I’m glad to hear it. Any plans to come back across the pond?”
I glanced down at my computer and quickly scrolled through a series of emails from Gemma Landry with dates and details for my next meeting with Victoria. “It looks like maybe sometime next week, but nothing’s definite. It’s all still very cloak and dagger.”
“I’m not sure I can wait that long to see you again. What are you doing this weekend?”
“This weekend? The one in four days from now?”
“Yes, that very one.”
“I was going to help my friend Jamie and his husband look at a few apartments, and I have an appointment to get my hair cut.”
“Perfect, ’cause I just put a ticket to come and see you on hold. I’d land at six thirty Friday night.”
Gideon didn’t just want to visit, he wanted to visit this weekend. Was I ready for that? Perry’s cologne was still sitting on my bathroom vanity.
“I had a wonderful few days with you in London and have some time off from Highclere. I want to get to know you better. Don’t overthink it. I’m not.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “Let me see if I can cancel my plans. Can I call you back before the end of the day?”
“I’ll be waiting,” he said.
I hung up and walked over to Jamie’s table. I tapped him on the shoulder. He took off his headphones and spun around.
“Do you and Thom still need my help looking at apartments this weekend?” I asked.
“What, do you have a hot date or something?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Shut the front door. Who is it, that guy who’s always checking you out at SoulCycle?”
“Gideon.”
He put his hands over his mouth. “Viscount Gideon?”
“Viscount Gideon,” I repeated. “He has some time off from work and wants to get to know me better.”
“That’s great, isn’t it?”
“It’s kind of fast, though, right? Don’t you think it’s sort of fast?” I looked down and into Jamie’s eyes.
Jamie reached up and rubbed the small of my back. “It’s time to move on, sweetie. We know Perry has.”
Jamie was right. All these months, I’d wondered if Perry had started seeing someone else even convincing myself that between the show and the press he was doing, he couldn’t possibly have the time to devote to another relationship. I’d been wrong. He was in a full-blown relationship with someone. Well, not just someone, Annabelle Ellicott. Any hopes of a reconciliation were dashed when I heard him call her “darling.”
I wandered back to my desk and pulled the large anthology on Elizabethan fashions from the Victoria and Albert Museum onto the drafting table. I grabbed a package of sticky notes from our supply closet and marked any image that was remotely inspiring. An hour later, with more than half the book tabbed, Jordana tapped me on the shoulder to ask if I wanted to prep for my appearance on Top Designer.
Jordana Singer had been my co-counselor and most trusted ally when I worked at Camp Chinooka. We kept in touch while she was in college, and she’d spent the last three summers and every semester break interning for G. Malone. She helped us build our social media platform, and when she graduated from Brown, Jamie and I hired her. Recently, we’d named her as Global Director of Brand Events. Our investors and advisory board thought we were crazy for promoting someone with so little experience, but her work ethic and commitment to building the company quickly made her invaluable. She lived and breathed G. Malone. So much so, I sometimes worried about the toll it was taking on her personal life.
It’d been Jordana’s brainchild to reach out to the producers of Top Designer to see if they’d be interested in Jamie and me coming back to guest judge an episode. They jumped at the idea. As runner-up of the very first season, now running a successful design brand of my own, they thought my story would prove inspirational to the current contestants. It was also a great reminder to the audience that the show was really a launching pad to future success. Jordana was in favor of anything that would give G. Malone more national exposure and had fought for us to be on a two-episode arc.
Jordana had received a packet from production on the contestant challenge and my role as both mentor and judge. She said she wanted to go over the details, but I knew her real agenda was to coach me on ways I could insert the G. Malone brand into the episode. Although I’d agreed to go on the show, I was having second thoughts about my appearance. Being a contestant on Top Designer had provided me with some amazing opportunities, but it also thrust me into a limelight I hadn’t been ready for.
Part of the first wave of successful reality shows, Top Designer scored record-breaking ratings for its first three episodes. Immediately following the premiere, my phone was ringing with calls from magazines, newspapers, and entertainment shows for interviews. I was young and inexperienced in dealing with press and ended up putting my foot in my mouth more times than I cared to remember. The spotlight got too big and too hot, and I choked. I was the projected favorite to win, and when it came time to put together that final collection, I froze. I went from having too many ideas to virtually none. At the final hour, I pieced together a runway show, but it was a poor comparison to most of the looks I’d created throughout the season. Kharen Chen was declared Top Designer, and the next day, I fell into obscurity.
A few weeks later, I got a call from Diane von Furstenberg’s VP of Design asking me to join their team. Diane had served as one of the panel judges on several episodes and thought my aesthetic would work well in her brand. It was a fantastic opportunity that I completely took for granted. I was fired in less
than a year.
I worried going back to the show would stir up all those feelings of insecurity and self-doubt. Ironically, when Jordana proposed the opportunity, Jamie had jumped at the idea he might get a chance to redeem himself on national television. This many years and successes later, he was still most famous for getting kicked off Top Designer because he couldn’t construct a wedding dress out of toilet paper. It haunted him.
Jordana and I walked a few blocks over to our favorite food cart. We ordered two falafels and sat down on a nearby bench. Between bites, she gave me a rundown on the season’s contestants. She pulled the episode challenge abstract out of a folder and handed it to me.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said after I’d skimmed through.
Jordana wiped some tahini sauce off her chin with the back of her hand. “What?”
“They’re recreating the Code Wed challenge?”
“Okay, so I know Jamie might not be thrilled, but think about how powerfully full circle it is. Yes, he got kicked off first, but now he’s back and he’s successful and none of it mattered. I mean, that’s a compelling story line. Also, think about the replay value and all the buzz this will create if you’re actually hired to design the most important wedding gown of the century. Talk about a twist of fate!”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure he’ll see it that way.”
She slid the abstract back into the portfolio. “I’ll get him to see it that way. So, how was London—tell me everything. Do you think we got the gig?” she said, referring to the Royal Wedding.
“I can’t believe you’ve managed to wait this long to ask me.”
“If it was good news or bad news you would’ve told me by now. I figured we’re still waiting to hear?”
The nondisclosure and confidentiality agreement allowed for Jamie and me to discuss the wedding with anyone from our company who we deemed needed to know. Jordana definitely fell into that category, but I wasn’t ready to let her in on the big news just yet. I wanted to hold onto our secret just a little bit longer while I was still working out the different looks. Once the news got out, too many people would try to influence the designs.
“Still waiting. We should hear something soon, though,” I said.
Jordana’s green eyes were sparkling with possibilities. “Can you imagine what it’ll mean to G. Malone if we’re the house that designs Victoria’s wedding dress?”
I took a long sip from my can of seltzer. “Pretty overwhelming to think about.”
“It’s pretty freakin’ amazing, and I can say that because I saw your humble beginnings firsthand.” Jordana wrapped up the last of her falafel and stuffed it into our makeshift trash bag.
“Ah, Camp Chinooka,” I said. “I always miss it this time of year. Right when the weather’s starting to warm up and you know summer’s around the corner.”
“Speaking of Chinooka…” she said, her voice trailing off. “You didn’t see Perry, did you?”
“We ran into each other. Verrry long story short, I found out he’s seeing someone new.”
She reached over and put her hand over mine. “You know, I’ve always rooted for you guys, right from that first night he carried you home from Rosie’s, but it may be for the best that you found out. Now you can hopefully close that chapter and start a new one.”
We packed up our stuff and went back to the office. I started to clear my table of all the clutter, and peeking out from underneath the Elizabethan anthology was the Arts Section of the Times. I took one last long look at Perry’s face on the cover and balled it up. I picked up my phone.
“You like Chinese food?” I asked Gideon after he picked up.
“Love it,” he replied.
“Good, I have the perfect place.”
“Want me to take care of the reservation?” he asked.
“Not necessary. It’s first-come, first-served.”
“Sounds like my kind of place. See you Friday.”
“See you Friday.”
Chapter Eight
Friday afternoon, at Jamie’s insistence, I left work a little early for a manicure and blowout. He’d already come by my apartment early in the week to “style” me for my weekend, picking out outfits for every possible scenario. After binge-watching all of Downton Abbey and any other period pieces he could get his hands on from Netflix, he’d become pretty obsessed with the British aristocracy. The mere idea I could become a countess by marrying Gideon had him in a complete tizzy.
Alicia met me at our favorite nail salon for our manicure date. Although it hadn’t been easy, time and forgiveness allowed Alicia and me to resuscitate our relationship. She and Joshua eventually came to a mutual decision not to get married, and over the last few years, the three of us had put most of the pieces of our friendship back together again.
I stopped to pick out a color, and Alicia waved to me from the back corner. I grabbed a wine-colored red off the top shelf and made my way toward her. I had to laugh. Only Alicia would be able to multitask her way through a manicure. She was using her foot to bounce the baby’s stroller, snacking on some trail mix, and conducting a conference call all at the same time. She saw me and mouthed she’d be off the call in a minute.
Alicia had recently left her job in investment banking to work for a smaller private equity firm that agreed to let her work part-time. Part-time must have a different meaning in the finance world because she still put in well over forty hours a week. Compared to the almost eighty she used to work, though, she considered it a vast improvement.
I peered into the stroller. Sloane was sound asleep. I slid into the seat next to Alicia’s and put my rings and bracelets into the small glass bowl on the station. The manicurist asked me to roll up my sleeves and slipped my hands into Borghese moisturizing gloves.
“Okay, call done. I’m putting it on silent for the next hour,” Alicia said, putting the phone into her bag. “How are you? How was London? Tell me everything.”
“It was a good trip,” I said.
“Yeah?” she said, skeptically.
“Productive.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You saw Perry, didn’t you?”
“I ran into him. He’s seeing someone new. That ship has sailed, sunk…and is now at the bottom of the ocean disintegrating faster than the Titanic.”
She reached over and lightly stroked my arm. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not like I didn’t know it was over, but it was a different kind of finality seeing him happy with someone else.”
Alicia turned back around to face the manicurist and pulled a nail polish out of her bag and handed it to her. “I’m sure she’s just a rebound?”
“I don’t think so. This has to be kept completely on the down low, but he’s dating Annabelle Ellicott.”
Alicia did a double take. “Annabelle Ellicott? I know her.”
“Yeah, I guess she’s pretty famous in her own right.”
“No, like I know her, know her.”
I yanked my hand out of the gloves and turned to face Alicia. “How do you know her?”
“We did that rotation program in London together a few years ago.”
This small world I’d unexpectedly found myself in suddenly felt even tinier. Did everyone know Annabelle Ellicott? “Were you friends?”
“More friendly than friends, but we hung out a bit there and a few times when she came to the New York office. We’ve stayed in touch a little bit. The occasional holiday card and email.” Alicia looked up at me. “What is it? You can’t be upset I knew her six years ago?”
“No, I’m not. It just feels like Perry’s everywhere. His picture. His show. His girlfriend. I can’t seem to escape him.”
“It just feels that way right now. It won’t forever. You need to get out there, try to meet someone new. It’s really the best way to move on.”
The slightly irritated manicurist snatched back my hands so she could finish the manicure. Alicia and I continued catching up on my trip while the technician shape
d, filed, and clipped my nails. She applied two coats of color and then shoved my hands under the ultraviolet light to dry.
I turned to Alicia. “I actually met someone in London.”
Her face lit up. “You did? That’s wonderful. What’s he like?”
“He’s a nice guy, but he knows Annabelle’s whole family. He has for years. He’ll be at the royal wedding, along with Perry. It’s all just a little claustrophobic right now.”
“I read today that Victoria’s leaning toward Valentino. Maybe it’ll be for the best if she picks him, and you can free yourself from all this hoopla.”
Apparently, Gemma Landry’s PR ploy was working, and people were buying into the idea Valentino would be the chosen designer.
“Maybe,” I replied softly. “What’ve you been up to, aside from the obvious?” I glanced over at where Sloane was still sleeping.
“Just trying to figure out this working mom thing. It’s as hard as people say.”
“I’m sure. But well worth it.”
Sloane started crying, and Alicia sprang up to get her out of the stroller. I motioned for her to sit back down, walked over, and picked Sloan up. I rocked her back and forth in my arms until she stopped fussing.
“You’re a natural,” Alicia said with a broad smile.
“I’m just dry,” I said, holding up my hand to her. “Gel manicure.”
She chuckled and leaned closer to the table. “I’m happy you met someone new. You deserve to be happy.”
“I’d just like a few days where I don’t think about Perry.”
“Then don’t sit here. He’s on the cover of Rolling Stone and Vogue.” She held up the two magazines.
“Vogue, really? A G. Malone design hasn’t even graced the cover of Vogue.”