Skinnydipping

by Bethenny Frankel

  And why should I feel bad? So what if he was going to marry an heiress? It had nothing to do with me. There will always be heiresses out there, Faith, I told myself. It doesn’t make you any less worthy. It’s more important to work to achieve something, rather than have it handed to you.

  As we got up from the table and went into the sitting room, Monica and I both foregoing the coffee for yet another glass of champagne, I began to feel angry, and that felt better than feeling inferior. Who did she think she was? Just because she had money didn’t mean she could control everybody around her.

  I looked at Harris, finally, brazenly. He obviously wasn’t enjoying her company. And why should he? Christine was obviously an asshole, even if she looked like an angel. When she sat down, he’d chosen a seat across the room, and then she had the gall to get up and go sit next to him.

  “Shall we play a game of Scrabble?” Sybil proposed. “I’ll fetch the board.” She got up to leave again, giving Christine another shot at me.

  “You know,” Christine said, settling into a velvet-upholstered love seat, “Harris and I saw the most interesting movie the other day.”

  “Christine …” Harris said, his voice a warning.

  She ignored him. “It was this cheesy B-movie with these girls who meet their boyfriends at an old house and they all play truth or dare.”

  I froze. My mind shot back to L.A., to that movie I’d played a part in, just before leaving town. I couldn’t believe they’d actually made it. I’d almost forgotten all about it, or at least put it out of my mind. Christine went on. “It has the most pathetic plot. The girls just sit around taking their shirts off and kissing each other. It is so bad. We laughed through the whole movie, didn’t we, honey?” she said, putting her hand on Harris’s knee.

  No. No no no no no! People were seeing it? That stupid movie, where I’d been topless, and worried about the implications for about thirty seconds? This woman had seen it? Harris had seen it, too? Shit shit shit. If Sybil had seen it, I was literally going to drop dead right there in her sitting room.

  I stood up. I wanted to leave the room, but I realized I had nowhere to go. I was a slave to the cameras and to the producers. A camera zeroed in on my face, and I knew this was one of those moments that was sure to be on the television show. How could they resist a moment like this? I sat back down.

  But wait a minute. How had she found it? Had she Googled me? Why would she do that? Harris must have said something to her. I was dying to know what he said that would have inspired her to go to the trouble of Internet stalking me, finding out about that movie, and actually renting it and watching it.

  “What’s she talking about?” Shari whispered to me. I had to say something. Say something, Faith. Say something. Blow it off. Make it funny. Prove to her it doesn’t matter!

  “One of those topless girls looked an awful lot like you. But much younger,” she said, driving it home.

  Ouch.

  I swallowed and tossed my hair back. “Actually, it wasn’t a B-movie, it was a double-D movie,” I said. “I bet you’d love to be in one of those, but …” I shook my head, looking apologetically at her small breasts.

  That’s it, Faith. Don’t complain, don’t explain. Own it.

  Christine reddened.

  “What’s this now?” Shari said. She hated not knowing what was going on.

  “She’s talking about a movie I was in back in L.A.,” I said to Shari. “I consider it part of my journey. Everything I’ve done in the past has brought me here, and here I am, having this amazing experience. Who knows, I might not be here today if I hadn’t kissed that girl and taken my shirt off all those years ago.” I smiled sweetly.

  Harris grinned. He obviously found it amusing. “I’ve certainly done some things I regret,” he said. “I suppose we all do. I think it’s pretty interesting that you had that experience.”

  “Well, I can’t imagine doing something like that,” Christine said. “I think it’s a sign of poor breeding.”

  “What’s it a sign of, if you initiate a conversation about topless actresses at a dinner party?” I asked politely.

  “I… I just thought I’d mention it since it was relevant to one of the guests,” she said.

  I leaned in toward Christine. “You think you can outbitch me, bitch?” I whispered. “Well, think again. While you were riding horses and getting manicures with your boarding school friends, I was betting trifectas at Aqueduct Racetrack. I wouldn’t play with knives if I were you. You might get hurt.”

  Monica gasped. Harris laughed out loud.

  Just then, Sybil entered the room. “Who’s up for a game?” She began to lay out the board and letter trays.

  “I think I’ll excuse myself from the Scrabble game,” said Christine, standing up. “I’ve got an appointment. Harry, walk me to the door.”

  “I think you know where it is,” Harris said. She looked at him with disgust, then turned and left in a huff. Sybil cast her son a dirty look, but didn’t say anything. Harris and I looked at each other, and there was some kind of change—some mutual understanding.

  After the token game of Scrabble was over—I got the impression it had been more for the sake of the cameras, to show everyone how civilized Sybil’s parties were—Sybil (who won) stood up. “Well, this has been very nice,” she said. “Thank you for joining my family Thanksgiving. But you need to get back to the city because I’ll be seeing you in three hours to give you your next challenge.”

  We all groaned and sighed, exhausted. We really had to do more tonight, after all this? I knew this whole dinner party was supposed to be our reward, but it had felt more like work—and a few more hours where my eyes couldn’t be closed.

  “And Faith?” Sybil said.

  “Yes?” I cringed.

  “I expect a certain level of sophistication in my employees.”

  Crap. Had she overheard some of our volley of insults? Had Christine blown it for me?

  “Of course, Sybil,” I said. Surely Christine had told her about my movie career, such as it was, but I refrained from trying to justify anything. It happened. I did it. Now I was going to have to live with it. If there were consequences, so be it. But I was damn sure going to make up for it by being better than anybody else in this contest, checkered past or no checkered past.

  We all thanked Sybil, then went outside to wait for the limo to take us back into the city. Sybil came out the door and got into her Town Car with Ian and Alice. She opened the window and called to Harris. “Are you coming, dear?”

  “No,” he said, waving to her. “No, I’m going to hang out here for a few days. If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, honey, that’s fine,” said Sybil. “You’ve done a good job. Thank you for all your help!” She rolled up her window and the car pulled out of the gravel drive and headed down the tree-lined road back to the highway. As soon as she was out of sight, Harris came over.

  “Faith.” I turned to look at him, still standing there in the doorway. “Can I talk to you? Alone?”

  I glanced at the cameras. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but that big black thing following you around is actually recording everything you say.”

  He smiled. “I’m not sure if you’re aware that my mother runs this fucking show, and I can get any tape removed that I want to get removed.”

  “My bad Scorsese,” I said, following him into the house, the camera in tow.

  “OK. Look, Christine is gone, and I just had to talk to you,” he said, as soon as we were inside the house with the door closed.

  “About what?” I said. “Your girlfriend isn’t my business.”

  “Come in here,” he said. He took my hand and led me back into the sitting room. “Sit down,” he said, indicating the couch where he had been sitting after dinner. Next to her.

  I sat.

  “I’ve been thinking and thinking about why you did what you did, and I finally realized how it all must have looked from your point of view.”
/>   “What do you mean ‘why I did what I did’?” I said.

  “Why you walked out on me at that club that night,” he said.

  “I walked out? Are you crazy? We had this great time together, and then you left with another woman. I saw you.”

  “No, that’s the thing. I didn’t. After I put that girl in a cab, I came back and looked everywhere for you. You were gone. After all that time we spent together, you left. I thought we really had something, and I just couldn’t believe you would disappear like that.”

  “Of course I just left, you asshole,” I said. “I turned around, and you were gone. Then I went to the restroom, and I came back and see you all chummy with that blonde bimbo, and then I saw you leaving together. And she wasn’t even your fiancée. So I have to wonder, how many other girls in this city are pining away for you because you made them think you actually connected with them?”

  He looked angry. “First of all, I don’t have a fiancée,” he said. “My mother… it’s complicated with my mother. And second, I didn’t leave. You did. I mean, I did, but just for a minute. I was coming right back. When your friends pulled you away, she came stumbling up to me and started hanging all over me, begging me to take her home. I knew she was drunk, so I went outside with her to get her safely into a cab. But you didn’t wait around for an explanation. You just bolted. So I assumed you were looking for an excuse to run. You seem like a runner to me.”

  That was a low blow. If an accurate one. “Well, that’s just great,” I said. “Meanwhile, I saw what I saw.” I knew it sounded irrational. His explanation actually made sense, but I wasn’t sure I could believe him, and I certainly couldn’t let him seduce me right now. “It’s fine,” I said. “You don’t owe me anything. You barely even know me. We spent one evening together. And in case you didn’t notice, I’m pretty busy here, trying to win this damn thing, trying to make sure your mother isn’t unfairly biased against me for whatever stupid reason she might have on any given day, so I can be judged on my actual skills. If you’re just wanting to clear up what happened that night so you can get back to planning your wedding …”

  “Oh for God’s sake, I’m not getting married!” he said, turning even redder. “You’re as bad as my mother! What’s the point in trying to explain? You’ve already decided to believe the worst about me. I guess I misjudged you. I thought you were different.”

  “Are you insane?” I said. “You misjudged me? You kissed me, and then you left with another girl, and you misjudged me? You walked out on me, just in time for me to come here and spend a month getting abused by your mother, and then by your fiancée. Did you guys plan this? Did you all get together and say, ‘Hey, I know, let’s pick a girl off the street and torture her for a couple of months! It’ll be a hoot!’” I was aware I was shouting, that the cameras were rolling, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  “You’re crazy. You’re not even listening to me. I don’t know why I’m even having this conversation with you.” He stood up and started pacing. “I have enough crazy women in my life!”

  “I’m not in your life. So walk away.”

  “That’s just it!” he shouted. Then he lowered his voice. “I can’t walk away. I can’t walk away from you.”

  I bit my lip. Why did he have to be so fucking charming? I was trying to hate him.

  “OK, look,” he said, calming down. “We’re not understanding each other, and I just know we’re both intelligent people who are capable of straightening this out.” He took my hand. “Please, just listen to me for a minute. Can you do that?”

  “I suppose I can,” I said, taking a few deep, calming breaths.

  “First, this whole fiancée fiasco. My mother is very attached to Christine, especially since Christine’s mom died. She was my mother’s best friend. She always imagined us together, and our families have always been friends, since we were kids. I dated Christine a few years ago, but it wasn’t right, and I broke it off after a couple of months. I don’t connect with her. But ever since, my mom has been pushing me, even though I’ve told her many times that it’s never going to happen. She invites Christine over all the time, whenever I’m going to be around. You know her now. She thinks what she wants to think, and you can’t tell her anything different.”

  “I do get that impression,” I admitted. “But Christine seems to have the impression you’re together, too. I just … I just don’t know if I can believe you.”

  “I don’t know how to prove it to you, but all I can say is this.” He took both my hands in his and looked me in the eyes. “I promise you, right here, right now, even though I don’t know you very well, that I will never lie to you.”

  This surprised me. His eyes were pleading and sincere. And sexy. But my guard was up. “Then who was that girl in the club?”

  “That really was a girl I just met, like I told you. She was drunk and high and she’d been harassing me all night. I just felt responsible for her in some way, even though I didn’t know her at all. As soon as I got back into the club, I looked everywhere for you. Listen.” He held my hand up against his heart. “Everything I said to you that night was true. And everything I’m saying now to you is true. If you believe nothing else about today, please believe that.”

  The cameras moved closer. I wanted to cry. I looked at him, blinking back tears. “All right,” I said. “All right. I believe you.” I paused. As long as he was truth telling … “Why did you tell me your name is Harris?”

  “My name is Harris,” he said. “My mother started calling me Harry when I was a kid, and then, so did everyone else. But my father called me Harris. It’s my real name.”

  I nodded. But did any of it matter? “OK, look,” I said, “I’m going to be totally honest with you, too. I really like you. A lot. I’ve been thinking about you ever since that night. But I don’t know where we can go from here. I’m in this contest to win. I need this. I have nothing else in my life but this. I can’t tell you how much I need it. It’s everything to me. And if being involved with you is going to put that at risk, well… I’ve gone through too much at this point to throw it all away for a big ‘maybe.’ Do you understand?”

  “Sure I do,” he said. “I get it. It’s OK.” He handed me a handkerchief, and I dabbed my eyes with it. “Even if this never goes any further, I just wanted you to know I didn’t lie to you.”

  He lifted my hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it, without taking his eyes off me. “Good luck,” he said.

  Shari stepped into the room. I wondered how long she’d been standing there. “The limo’s here, sweetie,” she said. “We have to go.”

  On the ride back to Manhattan in the dark, Mikki fell asleep with her head on Christophe’s shoulder and Monica was strangely quiet, melancholy and staring out the window. Shari was the only one who seemed to be in the mood for chatting.

  “So what is going on? Tell me! Tell me everything,” she said. “What was this movie you were in? That Christine was such a bitch. How dare she talk to you like that.”

  I sighed. “We’re friends, right?”

  “Of course, honey! You can tell me anything.”

  I leaned in close, glancing at Monica. Her eyes were closing. Christophe was staring out the window. I knew the cameras were on me. But so what? They’d caught the rest of it. I could hardly be in any more trouble. I just didn’t want any of the other contestants to hear.

  I whispered, “Harry Jansen and I spent a whole evening together at a club a few days before the contest started. At the time, I didn’t know who he was. He told me his name was Harris.”

  “Are you kidding me? Does Sybil know?” Shari whispered back. “This could be a serious conflict of interest, way worse than Ian McGinnis.”

  “I know,” I said, miserably. “But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that I liked him. I mean I really, really liked him. I know it sounds crazy, but for a little while there, I was thinking he was the one.”

  “Well that explains a lot,” she said.
She glanced back at our team members. They all seemed to be sleeping. “You can’t tell anyone about this, do you understand?” she whispered. “If you want to have any shot at winning, you have to play it completely straight, like it never happened.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “And you can’t tell anyone.”

  “Of course not, honey,” she said maternally. “My lips are sealed. Besides, you’re my new best friend.” It seemed like a strange thing for her to say, but I brushed it off because I really needed at least one other person to understand.

  Back at Sybil Hunter Enterprises, we all sat yawning at the conference table. It was only seven p.m., but it felt like three a.m. The losing team wanted to know everything they’d missed, and Shari was happy to tell them. “Nadine, you should have seen the antiques,” Shari bragged. “Fantastic. Gorgeous. And the food was absolutely unbelievable. I must have gained ten pounds. I’m starving myself tomorrow. Totally starving myself.”

  “Faith’s champagne fountain was a big hit,” Monica said. “Sybil was dipping into it all night.”

  “Oh, that’s a good one,” Andy said, rolling his eyes. “Sybil was dipping into the champagne.”

  “She was!” Monica said. “I think she could use some life coaching.”

  “I think Sybil Hunter is doing just fine,” Andy said.

  “She is indeed,” said Ruby Prasad, coming into the room in a form-fitting dress that skimmed her narrow curves, and glittery diamond earrings. She looked like she was on her way out to dinner. We had been expecting Sybil—but then again, why would she bother to come back to the office in the evening if she didn’t have to? We all knew Ruby’s presence meant we had another food challenge coming. “Sybil has a message for you,” Ruby said. She pushed a button on the wall and a screen lowered. Ruby pointed a remote control at the screen and pushed a button. Sybil’s face appeared. She looked at us from the screen with the satisfied look of a cheetah who had just feasted on a gazelle she’d taken down herself.