Skinnydipping
Page 30
“And thank God,” said Nadine, “if Shari hadn’t handled everything, it wouldn’t have worked nearly as well.” Nadine and Shari seemed to be in league. That worried me.
“We did it for the team, honey,” Shari said, patting Katie’s shoulder condescendingly.
Katie just crossed her arms and shook her head.
“Katie got there just before we opened,” said Nadine. “Just in time to start taking the money.”
“Which is just the way you wanted it,” said Andy. “Pretty scheming, Shari. Devious even.”
“I had nothing to do with it,” said Shari, innocently. “But I saw a need for leadership, so I stepped up.”
“That doesn’t sound like good teamwork to me, but when the leader falls, it’s good to have someone who can step in. Good job, Shari. Katie, perhaps you need a better alarm clock.”
“Shari’s the one who probably turned off my alarm!” said Katie. “And you’re congratulating her?”
“I am,” said Sybil. “I’m congratulating all of you, because Taco Truck is the winner of this challenge.”
They all clapped. I wanted to be sick. Or murder someone. Sybil would do. But it was dollars and cents. It didn’t matter if Ruby liked our hot dogs better or Sybil thought we made the best of a bad situation. And now, somebody had to go home. My heart began to race, knowing that the judgment was coming. How would I go back to my life now? I didn’t even remember what it was. The show had consumed my entire consciousness. I didn’t know how to do anything else anymore.
“Every member of your team will be joining the network producers at Le Bernardin in one hour, and then you’ll be treated to a night on the town. Team Taco Truck, you may all go back to the Loft to get ready.”
“Now,” Sybil said, looking at our team, “even though you did a decent job on your product, and I thought your team name was clever, your team didn’t really pull together and I question some of the management decisions. Someone from your team must go home. Faith, you were the team leader. Who do you think was most responsible for any failures your team encountered?”
I paused. This was going to get sticky. I’d been dreading this question. If I played it wrong, I’d get sent home. If I played it right, maybe I could save myself. I definitely wasn’t going to take the blame for something that wasn’t my fault. I’d done everything I could. The whole idea was mine. “I think … I think every team member played a role in our success. But some worked harder than others,” I said hesitantly.
“Like whom?” Sybil asked.
“Well… Andy was my go-to guy. He worked very hard for the team. Mikki was determined and did a great job behind the counter, and she was right there getting everything ready. Monica was a real trooper out there on the street. Even if you didn’t like our advertising plan, I think Monica did a lot to get people into our line.”
“And Jodi Sue?” said Sybil.
“Jodi Sue… helped make the mustard, but she did break the toaster, and honestly, she slacked off. When Monica was out there getting customers, Jodi Sue was sitting on a bench doing nothing. She was the dead weight on this team. Whenever we gave her a job, she tried to get out of it. I don’t think she really wants to be here.” It was a fair assessment, but was it enough to save me?
“That’s not true,” Jodi Sue said, indignantly. “How dare you say that! I want to be here as much as anybody! You’re the one who put the buns under the steam trays. You’re the one who wouldn’t let Monica and I come in to help. You’re the one who had to take over and do everything and make the rest of us look bad. And I thought the street advertising was tacky, too—I totally agree with Sybil on that one.”
“Faith did her best,” said Monica, her voice almost gone from her What-Up-Dog yelling, “and you did nothing except jump around with your big boobs going everywhere. And I say it’s Andy who causes all the discord. He’s always trying to pit people against each other.”
“All right, I’ve heard enough,” said Sybil. “It seems to me that Faith failed to maintain team unity, although she exhibited creativity. Andy provided a lot of the drive and forward motion for the team.” She looked back and forth between Mikki, Jodi Sue, and Monica, and conferred quietly with Alice, Harris, and Ruby. Then she turned back to us. “Mikki, Jodi Sue, Monica, none of you have particularly distinguished yourselves yet, but some of you have been less motivated to fulfill the role of Domestic Goddess.” She paused. Was she really going to cut one of them? Was I saved? I was just waiting for her to swing back toward me and point a finger at me.
The cameras hovered. Finally, she delivered the verdict. “Jodi Sue, I’m sorry, but you just aren’t necessary here at Sybil Hunter Enterprises.”
I couldn’t believe it! She’d agreed with my assessment over Jodi Sue’s! Was I really still here? Was I still part of the contest? I wanted to faint with relief.
Andy grinned at me and made a motion as if wiping sweat from his brow.
Jodi Sue looked thunderstruck, but didn’t say a word. She just smiled weakly, nodded, stood up, shook Sybil’s hand, then left the room. “What’s her rock-star husband gonna do about that?” Andy said under his breath, looking self-righteous. He was going to be even more impossible now that he was feeling totally vindicated about his claim that he could influence Sybil to drop Jodi Sue. At least I was still safe, against all odds. And I was even more determined never to lose another challenge.
But I did lose another challenge. Several more. And I won some, too. As the next few weeks rolled on, Sybil cut us off at the knees, one by one. The challenges got more and more brutal. We had to run a bed and breakfast for forty-eight hours, and Christophe, the concierge, was sent home, leaving poor heartbroken Mikki to weep alone in her bed for the next three nights until she was sent packing, after a challenge in which we had to decorate a condominium for a wealthy socialite. She hugged me before she left. “I’m rooting for you,” she said. Then she whispered, “Watch out for Shari. She knows you’re her biggest competition. She’s been trying to set the other people against you.”
“Really?” I whispered. I found it hard to believe. Shari was my friend, but on the other hand, I couldn’t help feeling suspicious.
After a corporate catering challenge, Linda, the mouthy headhunter, was given the axe. She was the only one to really freak out at Sybil, calling her “an egomaniac with a god complex.” I suspected that bit wouldn’t make it on to the show. And then, much to my relief, candy-crazy Katie and her astrology headbands, were let go after a challenge where we had to design a clothing collection and put on a fashion show. I was grateful I wouldn’t have to see her scowling at me anymore. Boozy Monica left us after the Sweet Sixteen Party challenge, when she got too drunk and started dancing with the guests.
Nadine the Queen of Queens left in a huff after she refused to play the role of server during the Supper Club challenge. And finally, there were only three: Andy, Shari, and me.
Shari had stood by me all along, never selling me out, whether she was on my team or on the opposing team, so despite what Mikki had told me, I still believed in our friendship, and it was important to me. I knew Shari was ambitious and wanted to win, but at night, we always spent at least an hour talking about the other contestants, the challenges, who was doing well, who was a threat, who would be easy to beat. We also talked about her family, about mine, about our plans, and what would come next. She defended me against anyone who said anything unkind to my face, and when we talked about our personal lives, she was always on my side. I even told her about my parents, and she railed against their treatment of me. “How could anyone treat their beautiful daughter that way?” she said. It was exactly what I needed to hear.
She said she wanted me to come visit her at the Jersey Shore for the summer and promised me a place to stay. “We’ll sit around drinking coffee and reading the gossip pages,” she said. “And then we’ll lie in the sun all day and drink fruity drinks and watch the cute boys walk by.” In the midst of all the insanity, I was grateful to
have her. She was my one comfort, although I knew at some point, one of us would have to go home.
Meanwhile, I was too thin, I was exhausted, and I felt disgusting. Nobody looked good—everyone who was still there looked like they’d lost at least ten pounds. I wondered how the eliminated contestants were doing, sequestered at their undisclosed location. They weren’t getting paid, but they were getting to sleep and eat and probably talk to one another, and they weren’t having to endure any more challenges, or any more of Sybil Hunter. But I was also riding high on my success, so I didn’t envy them. I’d really hit my stride and my teams were winning challenge after challenge.
But now, for the rest of the contest, it would be cutthroat. Shari, Andy, and me. And I was ready to go balls to the wall to win it. I was focused and driven and winning was my priority, even if a small part of me was still thinking about Harris.
Every so often, I’d see him in the hall or he’d show up to help judge a challenge, but the security on the show was so tight, and we were so closely monitored, that we never got a chance to really speak beyond the casual. Still, our conversations were fraught with double meanings and the looks we gave each other went from shy and suspicious to increasingly steamy. It was like we were having a whole relationship without ever touching or saying anything directly. I wondered what would happen when it was all over. Would we go our separate ways? Would he marry Christine, after all? I didn’t think so. But would I ever see him again? Of that, I wasn’t sure.
We had just completed the latest challenge producing a makeover segment on a new mom, filming “before” pictures, buying her new clothes, getting her hair and makeup done, and filming the “after” segment. We wouldn’t get the results until the next morning. There was no clear winner, no clear loser. We were all good at what we did.
The three of us sat together in the now mostly empty Loft. Nobody said it, but we were all thinking the same thing: one of us was about to go home, and Sybil was going to start asking us who should stay and who should go.
“May the best one win,” I said, raising my glass.
“To the one with the biggest balls,” Andy said.
“You don’t want to put your balls up against mine,” I said.
“Our last night as a threesome,” Andy said. “Maybe we should have one.”
“One what?” Shari said.
“A threesome!” he said, hopefully.
I threw a plastic cup at his head.
“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for asking.”
“Sure we can,” said Shari.
“I can’t believe we get to go home next week,” I said. “God, I miss my dog and even my shitty apartment.”
“I miss my kids,” Shari said.
“I’m going to miss this,” said Andy. “It’s been a rush.”
We all nodded silently. If nothing else, it had certainly been a rush. Tomorrow, we’d find out the final two, and then, one more challenge before everyone went home for six months, to our real lives, or what was left of them. And then we’d be back, for the results and the finale. Whatever happened after that would surely be different than anything I’d ever known before.
chapter twenty-eight
We sat along one side of the conference table: Shari, Andy, and I. Sybil sat facing us, between Ian and Alice. Rasputin sat on the floor under my feet. Ever since I’d given him that Kobe beef hot dog, he always came over to me when we were all in the room. I patted his giant, fluffy head under the table—his head alone was bigger than my whole dog. His big tail thumped against the carpet.
Sybil surveyed us and we all looked back at her with confidence, with hope, and with desperate ambition. Each one of us knew we would win, felt we absolutely had to win. Nobody was giving up or backing down.
“This final challenge revealed many things about each of you,” Sybil said. “Although you were not informed, during this last challenge, some of the most influential people here at Sybil Hunter Enterprises were behind the scenes, watching you and evaluating your performance. I trust and highly value my colleagues’ opinions, and I’ve brought three of them here today to ask you a few questions.”
This was unexpected, but I’d been so involved in the New Mom Makeover challenge that it probably wouldn’t have mattered even if I’d known. Shari looked startled but confident. Andy had a confrontational look on his face, like he dared anyone to question his methods. I knew he’d been uncomfortable with the final task. Makeovers weren’t exactly his thing, but he’d barreled right through in his usual over-the-top way and his new mom had actually looked pretty good at the end of the challenge. I guessed he’d probably tried to sleep with her, or at least flirted enough to give her the radiant glow of sexual flattery.
The door opened and in walked an older bald man with little wire glasses and two older women, one with a brunette wedge haircut and tortoiseshell reading glasses, the other with gray-blonde bangs and blunt-cut, shoulder-length hair. “Let me introduce you to Phillip Wagner, Marcelle Eklund, and Ruth Richardson,” she said. She turned to her colleagues. “Please sit down. I’m so happy to have you here, as I truly value your opinions.”
The three sat on Sybil’s side of the table. Now we were outnumbered, and it was intimidating. To compensate, I sat up straighter.
“Let’s begin with Shari,” said Sybil. She turned to her colleagues. “What did all of you think about her, and what you witnessed as you observed her during this last challenge?”
“I was impressed with Shari,” said the brunette, Marcelle. “She was polished and professional, and she knew how to put people at ease by drawing them into the conversation. My only concern was a sense I had that she wasn’t always sincere, that her friendly manner was put on. But on the surface, she seemed approachable and warm.”
“Shari, I was surprised to learn you are a housewife. You exude the ambition and competitiveness of a businesswoman,” said Phillip. “Tell me, what would you bring to Sybil Hunter Enterprises?”
“I believe I can bring the stay-at-home mom’s perspective, combined with my interest in all the things Sybil Hunter does,” Shari said. “I’ve always been a great admirer of Sybil’s brand, and with my social connections and my aesthetic sense, I believe I would be a great asset to the company.”
“You do strike me as a woman who can get things done and I have a good mental picture of how your show would look on our network,” said Phillip. “But I agree with Marcelle that you seem to be a very calculated person and we may not be seeing the true Shari yet.”
Shari looked startled. “I have to disagree,” she said. “What you see is exactly what you get. I’m a good friend, a hard worker, a devoted homemaker, but I’m ready to enter the working world. I’m perfectly poised for it.”
“I disagree about Shari being a good fit on the network,” said the gray-blonde woman, Ruth. “To me, Shari wasn’t surprising. She’s a cliché, really. The rich housewife with the successful husband. She says what people want to hear, but who is she? To me, she seemed grabby and braggy and a little bit pushy. She’s also a bit of a know-it-all. We need someone with a unique personality, not someone who will rub viewers the wrong way. The only one in this group that I could imagine carrying a television show is this young woman, Faith. To me she has the kind of passion and creativity we associate with our network.”
“Then let’s talk about Faith,” said Sybil. “What did you all think of her?”
“I thought she was a bit manic,” said Marcelle, “and I got a sense that she is the kind of person who will bite off more than she can chew, but that she’ll do her very best to chew it anyway.” They all laughed. I blushed but I had to agree with them.
“You’re right, I do that a lot,” I admitted. “But I would kill or die for this job. I’m Sybil’s biggest fan. I can cook, I can bake, I’m very creative with decorating, I love beautiful clothes, I love dogs, and I’ve got that entrepreneurial spirit.” I reached down to pat Rasputin’s massive head, partly to help calm me and partly to dry my swe
aty hands.
“My impression of Faith is that she seems to want to have very high standards—but perhaps hasn’t quite managed to achieve this the way you yourself have, Sybil,” said Phillip. “With time, perhaps, she will. She certainly has the energy, and I like her scrappiness.”
“I also get a sense that she is all over the place, like maybe she’s experimenting with a lot of different approaches or styles, and she hasn’t quite discovered her own yet,” said Marcelle.
“Like you yourself did, Sybil,” said Ruth. “I see a lot of similarities between you and Faith. You’re both entrepreneurs at heart, and I see a similar outside-the-box creativity that I think our viewers would respond to. I am worried, though, about Faith’s inability to self-edit. She can sometimes come across as perhaps too honest.”
“And what about Andy?” Sybil said.
They were all silent for a moment. Finally, Phillip spoke: “Andy is… well, let’s just say I get the impression that he is a strategist.”
“What do you think about that, Andy?” Sybil asked.
“Well, sure I am,” he said. “This is a contest, and I want to win. It’s all a game. Life is a game.”
“I was concerned when I heard him talking to his makeover client about ‘playing the game,’ and how it would benefit him most if one or the other of these young ladies,” Phillip said, gesturing to Shari and me, “were eliminated. I found this unprofessional and highly inappropriate, not to mention indicative of a character I don’t think we necessarily want associated with our network.”
“I agree,” said Ruth. “I hardly think you can call Faith manic next to Andy, who makes her look like a Zen master.” They all laughed again. She turned to Shari and me. “How did you both work with Andy?”
“I liked working with Andy,” I said. “And I figure if I can work with Andy, I can work with anybody. I know it’s important to be able to work with all kinds of creative types, even the ones with difficult personalities.”