“Damn right you do,” I said. I crossed my arms, protecting myself, protecting my heart.
“I don’t know how to say this,” he said, looking at the ground. “So I guess I’ll just say it.”
“OK,” I said. “I’m waiting.” The air was cold but I was burning up inside, with anger and grief and despair and desire.
“After that picture of us appeared in the paper, my mother, as you can imagine, was angry. She ordered me never to see you again.”
“And you’re such a mama’s boy that you agreed? After everything? After …” I swallowed. I wanted to say, after saying you loved me, but I couldn’t get the words out. I was too afraid.
“Wait, hold on,” he said. “I didn’t agree. I told her it was none of her business. I told her to go screw herself.”
I couldn’t help laughing a little. “You told your mother to go screw herself?”
“Well… maybe not in those exact words,” he said. “But still, I absolutely refused to stop seeing you. And then …”
“And then what?” I said. “What could she possibly have said to keep you away?”
I thought he might start crying. Oh God, Harris, don’t start crying, I silently begged him. “She said … she told me that if I agreed to stop seeing you, then… then she would choose you to win.”
“What?” I said. “What?”
“I know. It was stupid. And probably illegal. But she was so angry about the footage of us on the show, and then after our picture was in the paper, she was absolutely determined to keep us apart. It was a bribe. But …”
“But what?”
“Look, Faith, I knew how much this meant to you. I knew how much you wanted it, how much you needed it. I thought it was the most important thing to you.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. He was right, in a way. I’d spent the last six months obsessing to him about winning the show. It was all I ever said I really wanted.
“I did want it. I thought I wanted it,” I said. “But don’t you see that I never wanted it the way I wanted you? Even from that first night we met.” I tried to swallow the lump in my throat threatening to make me burst into tears. It was so hard for me to admit, but being without him had made me realize how much I never wanted to be without him again. “Don’t you know I’d rather have you than that stupid show?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know that. When I said I loved you, you didn’t say anything back. And I know how important your career is to you. It was never about doing what my mother wanted. I wanted to give you what you wanted the most—even if it meant giving you up.”
I started to cry.
“But when she chose Shari over you anyway, when she went back on our agreement, after swearing to me that she would pick you to win, I realized that there are no certainties in life. You can’t manipulate fate. When I look at myself, and my own life, I realize it doesn’t mean anything without you. When I couldn’t call you, I was so miserable that I realized I can’t be with anyone else. When she went back on her word and named Shari the winner, I was set free.”
Then he did something that blew me away. He knelt down on one knee in front of me, right there in front of my building. The doorman leaned out to watch. A woman walking her dog slowed down as she passed us. Then Harris reached into his pocket and pulled out a little velvet box. He opened it and held it up to me. It was a large sparkling diamond solitaire on a platinum band set with tiny diamonds. It was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. Was this really happening?
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the pregnancy test. “I’ll trade you,” I said.
He stared at the little plastic stick in my hand for a moment, and then a look of recognition came over his face. Then, it was as if a great weight was lifted from his brow. He leapt to his feet and pulled me into his arms. “Oh my God,” he said, his face pressed against my neck. “I can’t believe it.”
Then he pulled back and looked at me. “Is it mine?”
“No, it’s the doorman’s. I was just coming to tell him.” The doorman was still watching us. “Hey, buddy, guess what?” I yelled to him. “I’m having your baby!”
The doorman ducked back inside the building. Harris laughed. “You’re crazy,” he said.
“And you already have too many crazy women in your life?”
“I think I could use one more.” He pulled me back against his chest. He felt so warm.
“I could do this alone,” I whispered in his ear, wrapping my arms around his neck. “But I’d rather do it with you.”
“We’re going to be a family,” he whispered back, pressing his cheek to mine. “Faith, Faith, I love you.”
I pulled back from him and looked him straight in the eye. I took a deep breath, and then I said it: “Harris, I love you, too.”
We heard about it first on television. Harris was getting ready for work, and I was still lying in bed, trying to figure out what to do with my life next, when I flipped past the Entertainment News channel.
“Domestic Devil?” the host said. “Author, entrepreneur, and television personality Sybil Hunter just wrapped her Domestic Goddess reality show finale, but she may also have inadvertently wrapped her career.” The screen flashed an unflattering picture of Sybil with her mouth open. “This morning, anonymous sources leaked this recording of Hunter, talking about the contestants on her popular reality show.”
“Harris, get in here!” I yelled. He came out of the bathroom in his boxers with shaving cream on his face, to the sound of his mother’s voice. The words showed up on the screen, as she spoke:
“They’re all a disaster. Every one of them. I don’t want to hire any of them. They’re all ridiculous.”
A muffled voice responded, saying something like “Contractually, I think you have to hire one of them.”
Sybil answered: “I don’t care about a fucking piece of paper, I can do whatever I want to do. I’m Sybil Hunter.”
The barely audible voice said something about how she had handpicked the contestants.
Sybil answered: “Handpicked? I disown any responsibility for that. I don’t even know where they got these people. Faith should probably win. She’d be great on her own show, which is exactly why I’m not going to choose her. I can’t stand that girl, and I can’t wait until the day I never have to see her again. I suppose I’ll just choose that whiny, simpering, ass-kissing Shari to win, but I can guarantee that as soon as she’s hired, she’s fired, so my business can go on operating at the standard I expect.”
The anchorwoman came back onscreen. “Sources at Ovation Network claim that Hunter may be fired, for violating her contract. No word on whether plans for Hunter’s new SHE network will be influenced by these events, or whether the winner of Domestic Goddess will actually receive the promised prize.”
Harris and I stared at each other. “No fucking way,” I said.
I slumped back into the pillows. She couldn’t stand me? She couldn’t wait until she never had to see me again? I laughed out loud. The woman was about to become my mother-in-law! And Shari … poor Shari. I almost felt sorry for her. What an awful thing to come out on national television—Sybil Hunter calling her a simpering ass-kisser.
But it all made sense now. She chose Shari because she never intended to give her a show at all. Had she chosen me, I wouldn’t have gone down without a fight, and she probably knew it. Especially if I was with her own son. And she couldn’t stand me! I smiled. In a way, it was a huge relief just to hear her say it.
I wondered who hated Sybil enough to secretly record her, then leak something like that to the press. I thought momentarily about Polly. Could it be? Or Alice? Whoever it was … well, I was impressed.
Harris ran back into the bathroom, wiped the shaving cream off of his face, then came back out and grabbed his phone. “I need to call her,” he said.
“I thought she wasn’t speaking to you,” I said.
“She’s not, but if she needs legal advice, I have
to at least offer it. If she doesn’t want it, then that’s her call,” he said. “But she may really be in some serious trouble here.”
“Will her new network be in jeopardy?” I said.
“Maybe. Although who knows what will happen. She’s always been a fighter. Just like you,” he said.
“I always knew we had a lot in common,” I said. “Although that scares me.” And then the phone rang.
“Faith Brightstone?” the voice said.
“Yes?”
“This is Roxanne Howard.”
“Wow,” I said. “Hi, Roxanne.” I turned down the sound on the television.
“Look, Faith, I wouldn’t normally be calling you directly, but I called around and you don’t seem to have an agent.”
“No,” I said. An agent? Why would I need an agent?
“I’d like to talk to you about a little proposition. Can you come into the office?”
“Can you tell me what it’s about first?” I said.
“Sure, I suppose I can,” she said. “You may have heard about recent events involving Sybil Hunter.”
“I just heard, actually,” I said.
“Yes, well. It looks like great changes are afoot. We’ve canceled Domestic Goddess. There won’t be a second season. We’ve also canceled Sybil’s daytime show.”
I gave Harris a look. “What?” he mouthed to me. I shushed him.
“Faith, we’re in the process of considering replacements for those slots, and I have an idea for a show that I’d like you to consider. We want to call it Have Faith. It would be a completely new kind of reality show. We would follow you around in your normal life, and make a show out of you.”
“Make a show out of me?” I said. “Who would want to watch that?”
“I have no doubt it would be extremely popular. You were the fan favorite on Domestic Goddess, so you’ve already got a fan base. People want to know what happens next, with you, with your career, and with Harry. Are you two getting married?”
“I… I think so,” I said. I’d said yes, but I still couldn’t quite believe I would be able to go through with a wedding.
“Excellent, TV gold,” she said. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but I heard from Sybil that you’re pregnant. Is that true?”
“It is,” I said.
“Platinum!” she said. “There’s nothing more engaging on a show for women than a pregnancy. If you can come down to the studio tomorrow, I can talk to you about all the details.” The sound of her voice gave me a creepy feeling. My baby was a profit opportunity?
“Look, Roxanne… I don’t know,” I said. “I think I’m kind of done with reality television.”
“Honey, you don’t want to miss this opportunity,” she said. “You’ve gotta strike while the iron is hot. It’s happening for you right now. Don’t lose your momentum.”
“Let me think about it,” I said.
“That’s all I ask,” she said. “Of course, Harry would have to agree to be part of the show. And that adorable little baby you’re going to have, too. It will be all about your family. Call me when you’re ready to schedule a meeting. And I’m quite confident that you’ll be calling.”
I hung up the phone. “Harris?” I said. He came back into the bedroom. He’d put his suit on and was tying his tie. He looked adorable. Roxanne’s words echoed in my ears: Your family. I had no doubt Harris would be extremely telegenic. The world would fall in love with him. But did I really want to put him through all that?
“Yes, my irresistible wife-to-be?” he said, kneeling on the bed and wrapping his arms around me.
epilogue
I peeked out from behind the white curtains that separated my dressing area at the Waldorf Hotel from the rest of the ballroom. I was six months pregnant, it was a gorgeous June day, and I was in the most beautiful white wedding dress I’d ever seen.
I saw all my friends gathered there, in chairs facing the altar—Victoria, Jennifer, and Samantha, Bronwyn and her husband, Chaz and Monica, Mikki and Christophe, and my bakery assistant, Alanna. My old friends Perry and Jeannie had both flown in from L.A., and at the last minute, Larry Todd, my old boss, had decided to fly in, too. “It will be like going to my own daughter’s wedding,” he’d said over the phone.
Sybil Hunter was there, of course—she couldn’t miss her son’s wedding, even if he was marrying me. She sat in the front row, on the groom’s side. She was going to be my mother-in-law, for better or for worse, and we’d both have to get used to that prospect.
My own mother sat primly on the other side, trying not to stare at Sybil Hunter, looking like she had a bad taste in her mouth. And then I gasped—my father was there, standing uncomfortably against the back wall, with a bouncy and smiling Brooke on his arm.
Nobody saw me peeking through the curtains, but I saw them all, and it was perfect, no matter what had happened in the past, no matter who had said or done what. They were all here, all come together to usher me into my happily ever after, and whatever happened after this moment would be up to me. I was done blaming other people for my unhappiness. I was done being unhappy. And if my life was not about to be perfect, it was about to change in ways I’d only dreamed.
After much discussion, Harris and I had turned down Roxanne Howard’s offer to do a reality show about our lives, but had made her a counteroffer: I would do a show more like the show Sybil Hunter had done—a talk show with guests and cooking and tips for making life easier and better, but for a younger generation of women. It would be funnier, lighter, more irreverent, like talking to your girlfriends. I might even throw in a mixology segment now and again. We agreed the show could still be called Have Faith, and Harris could come onto the show only when and if he wanted to. And as for our daughter—the sonogram had revealed last month that we were having a baby girl—well, we would keep her off screen, at least for now.
After Bacchus Global had turned down our deal for the Have Faith Pink Lemonade Mojito, one of the other companies I’d called, Summit Liquors, changed their minds after hearing I’d scored my own show. They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I was going to bottle my signature cocktail and sell it after all. And I had a million other ideas, all waiting to happen. My future was wide open. No limits. Just space—and love.
Then I saw Harris. He was at the front of the room, in his tuxedo, looking nervous and handsome and beautiful. He was waiting for me. He turned, feeling my gaze, and our eyes met. His face relaxed. He smiled.
Then the music started, and I stepped out from behind the curtain, on no one’s arm, on my own two feet, to begin my next great adventure.
acknowledgments
Thank you to my fans. I would never be anywhere close to where I am without your support. You have accepted me, embraced my flaws, and taken such an incredible journey with me. This next stop on that journey is filled with so much passion and joy that I know you will love it as much as if not more than anywhere I have taken you before.
Thank you to Jeremy Katz. You were the first book agent who believed in me, and I will never forget beginning this incredible journey with you. Thank you to Zachary Schisgal. You gave me my first break in this industry and believed in what I had to say. Without that faith, I wouldn’t have succeeded enough to take this remarkable leap in my writing career. Thank you to Julie Plake. You have been so excited and passionate about this book. I would love the excitement in your eyes after you read each chapter. Thank you, Jacqueline Lagratta. You were there when the idea of fiction was first introduced, and were so enthusiastic about this being the best next step in my literary journey.
Thank you so much to Touchstone, the only publisher that I will ever know. We’ve had three great successes together, and it has been a thrilling ride together. In particular, thank you to Stacy Creamer. You are such a courageous and creative woman, and it was you, with the help of Matthew Benjamin, who brought up the crazy idea of my writing a novel. At that moment it seemed insane, and it became the most inspiring, thrilling journey
of my entire career. Writing this book filled me with so much joy that it felt like it was writing itself. Thank you to Matthew Benjamin. You have been so wonderful to work with. I appreciate your love and passion for the process. Thank you to Marcia Burch. It has been an honor to collaborate with you to make all of my books a success.
Thank you to my BlackBerry. You make it possible for me to be anywhere in the world and still write. Try not to break down and give me any more aggravation going forward.
Thank you to Eve Adamson. You are a gift, a positive support system, and an incredible partner. You and I together define “A Place of Yes.”
Thank you to Jason Hoppy, my husband. You are incredibly supportive and such a positive force in my endeavors. Thanks for believing in this idea. I love you. Thank you to my beloved dog, Cookie. You and I have been through everything together. Your fur at my feet is all a girl really needs. Thank you to my baby bumblebee, Bryn Casey Hoppy. You are the joy and love in my life and the spark to my imagination to just let the words flow.
Skinnydipping
Bethenny Frankel
Reading Group Guide
Introduction
Faith Brightstone moves to Los Angeles determined to have it all—a successful acting career, a Malibu beach house, and a gorgeous producer boyfriend. While she has no problem finding her way in the party scene, her career and soulmate hopes are promptly dashed when her job turns out to be as a glorified servant to a sadist and her sleaze meter fails her miserably on the man front. Fast-forward five years and Faith has returned to New York and is finally finding her groove as an entrepreneur. When she lands a spot on a new reality TV show hosted by her idol—the legendary Sybil Hunter—her life is completely turned upside down. In the bizarre world of reality TV, Faith’s loud mouth makes her both an instant star in front of the camera and also labeled a troublemaker by Sybil. When the show comes to a dramatic close, Faith discovers that the man of her dreams may have just walked into her life. Will she choose fame or love? Or can she have it all?
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