“Well excuse me, Douglas, Sorry I’m not perfect or part of the perfect couple. Sorry I’m not you and Lewis!”
“You’re so defensive.”
That was it. Why did she have to take this? He wasn’t her mother. He didn’t know all the circumstances. He didn’t understand that Will was just as much a victim as Lell was. She grabbed her bag and walked out into the spring night, slamming the door behind her.
chapter 34
Oscar Curtis was sick and tired of takeout. How many friggin’ bagged sandwiches could one human consume? Not to mention Chinese delivery overload. Each night when he finally exited the office, he began his quest for his nightly meal. For the last decade, he had been so busy he truly thought of food as fuel and would gladly have accepted, if offered, a pill that would satisfy all his FDA-recommended calorie needs. But then as his company grew and then went public, he really was at the helm of an already flying ship; he had a bustling, competent, devoted staff that he had assembled and trained; he had built a machine that was now coasting on its own. So why the cheesesteak eaten at his keyboard? He knew the answer was because work had eclipsed his life. And now he didn’t know what his life held for him outside work. He knew that in the city that never slept there were men his age drinking at bars and going to baseball games and dating girls, but how could he start that now, out of the blue? It wasn’t like he could just walk into a bar and start talking to people. Plus, who was he kidding? He loathed most people anyway. They were just too dumb or would inevitably let him down. But what was the use of all his success without someone to splurge on? So little by little his evenings alone turned from a stuffed-down dinner to a careful search for the perfect meal—it was his activity, to fill the void of walking the streets or channel-surfing alone at home.
On this particular spring evening, after taking a circuitous route home from the office, he suddenly got a craving for a great foot-long hot dog, and Second Avenue Deli was nearby. As he approached the pickup counter, he spied Julia sitting alone at a table with her head in her hands. He froze. He was going to grab the dog and bolt, but Julia looked somewhat sad. He felt an urge to cheer her up.
“You’re looking less frazzled than when I saw you last,” he said, standing above her.
“Oh, Oscar, hi—” she wiped an errant, confused tear from her cheek. Doug and Lewis had hit a nerve. And it wasn’t like she could pick up the phone to call Will about it. She didn’t even have his cell number. He was at some poker night, anyway. Plus it was all too fragile and charged with fear.
“Are you okay?” Oscar asked. “Would you like company, or are you . . . wanting some space?”
She was annoyed that she had been caught crying. And while she wasn’t thrilled to make small talk, she didn’t want to be rude. “No, no, please, sit—”
“I was just ordering some dogs, want one?”
“Oh, no thanks.”
A waiter walked up, taking a pen out from behind his ear.
“I’ll have two hot dogs with everything, please,” Oscar asked. “And this young lady will have a piece of hot apple pie with ice cream.” The waiter nodded walked away.
“I will?”
“I think it will cure what ails ye.”
“Oh really?”
“Really. And I won’t even ask what that may be. But it’s a nice night and a girl like you should never be crying into an empty coffee cup.”
Julia smiled. “What’s a girl like me?”
Oscar suddenly got nervous again. Part of him felt so at ease and natural around her while the other half remained the bumbling idiot he’d been when he first saw her at Pelham’s. But he looked at her tearstained cheeks and had to answer her. “Oh, you know,” he shrugged, embarrassed.
She looked away. There was an awkward pause for just a moment, and then as the food was placed in front of them, he got another surge of guts. Hell, he had nothing to lose.
“So maybe I lied. I will ask. What is it that ails ye?”
“Oh, silly stuff,” she answered.
“Try me.”
“Just work stuff . . .” she trailed off, looking out the window. She looked back at his piercing gaze and felt she could trust him. “And maybe I’m just a bit lovesick.”
Ouch. Oscar hated to hear someone else had captured her affections. He didn’t know what to say, and finally sputtered out, “What dope would put you through that?”
She laughed. “Not a dope. Maybe I’m the dope. It’s pretty complicated.”
“Oh.”
“Whatever,” she said, waving her hand. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sure.” Oscar watched Julia’s sad face and suddenly felt emboldened. “But I will say that this guy is a total zero if he isn’t dropping everything to be with you.”
How sweet. Oscar was very kind and Julia knew from day one he had a truly warm, nice core. But nice and a Metrocard will get you a seat on the subway. Nice wasn’t the thud-inducing magic of Will Banks calling her to meet him in the park. And nice certainly didn’t keep you warm at night. Okay, maybe warm, but never hot.
“You know what? It’s not important,” said Julia, trying to regain her composure. “So what are you up to?”
“Not much.”
“No date tonight? Speaking of which, how’s your love life?”
“Mine?” sputtered Oscar. “Well . . . nonexistent.”
“Why’s that?” asked Julia.
“Well . . . I don’t know. I work a lot.”
“That’s no excuse. Don’t you ever go out and date?”
“Not really.”
“Why not? You’ve got to get out there. Isn’t there anyone?”
Oscar bristled. “You know, you’re beginning to sound a lot like Polly with this bombardment of questions.”
Julia was surprised. “I’m sorry. You’re like a total catch. I’m just surprised when you show up alone all the time.”
“You show up solo at parties.”
Julia paused. He was right. She did show up alone. But she never felt that way because Will was usually around. Julia laughed. “I guess I’m the pot calling the kettle black.”
Oscar smiled. “Yeah.”
“Well look at us. Two nerds with no dates.”
“But obviously there is someone, if you’re feeling a little . . . lovesick.” It made Oscar cringe to say the words.
“Yeah,” said Julia, remembering her anguish.
Oscar watched Julia’s face fall. “Julia,” he began.
“Yes?”
“Just . . . Just make sure this is the right guy. You shouldn’t be wasting your time worrying about some loser. Really. You’re a special girl.”
“Thanks,” said Julia, embarrassed.
“No, I mean it,” said Oscar seriously. “I haven’t quite figured out why you’re running around doing this society thing, I mean, I guess it’s for work and all, but you seem so different from the crowd that you’re hanging with. I guess that’s why sometimes I give you a hard time. I mean, you’re unusual. You listen to people, you speak your mind, you have a big heart that really truly wants to help people . . .” he trailed off.
Julia blushed. “Thanks, Oscar.”
“No, I mean it,” he said, raising his voice a little. “You’re real, Julia. Don’t change.”
Julia stared at Oscar in the bright unflattering lights of the diner. She felt very exposed, and yet, it was not a bad feeling. She felt like Oscar understood her, and liked what he saw. His dark eyes penetrated very deeply into her, and she blinked under his intensity. Suddenly she felt a rush of guilt and foolishness over her dalliance with Will. This flirtation was a disaster in the making—the kind of thing she never thought she would ever be involved with, something that she could not justify, and yet, something that she could not resist. If Oscar knew what she was up to, he would surely disapprove. She felt ashamed, as if Oscar were a moral compass sent to guide her on the right path.
His words echoed in her head again and again. It was both a challenge an
d a warning, the type you’d get from someone who knew you well and wanted the best for you. Oscar was that type. If only she was strong enough to say no to Willoughby Banks. But her heart was not yet ready.
chapter 35
“I know, Polly, I know,” said Hope into the phone. She had been on the receiving end of Polly’s rebuke for the past ten minutes. She hadn’t been able to get a sentence in, except “I’m sorry” and “I know.” She did know, and she was sorry, but that wasn’t good enough for Polly.
“I just feel like this is a personal attack on me. You know how much this event means to me. I counted on you and Charlie. You’re going to completely mess up the seating. Now who am I going to sit next to Henny? He really doesn’t like very many people. I don’t want to sit him next to Nina Waters. She totally puts the moves on him, that fat cow. I don’t understand, Hope. How could you do this to me? Why?”
Polly was really putting Hope in the most awkward position. Was it really so hard to understand that Hope and Charlie had to decline this year’s Crusade Against Scoliosis benefit? Tickets were $500 per person, and with Charlie out of a job that was just out of the question. Polly was just pissed because she was on the committee, although Hope knew for sure she had never attended one meeting and thought scoliosis could be caught by drinking bad water in Africa. Couldn’t she at least have a little sympathy?
“Polly, this isn’t about you. Look, it’s just not the best time for Charlie and me, and we really have to pick and choose what charities we support.”
“Oh, you mean, ’cause of the job thing?” asked Polly.
“Yes. The job thing. I mean, of course we can afford to go to all of these things,” said Hope, lying, “but it just seems better to streamline what charities we show up for. You know, Polly, if you’re on the committee of too many charities, people get tired of you. When you call they just think you want their money.”
Why not turn the tables on Polly? She was being totally inconsiderate, forcing Hope into admitting that she and Charlie were having major financial problems. Let her worry about her image.
“You think so?” asked Polly, nervous.
“Well, come on. Don’t you? You don’t want to be the person always asking people to spend hundreds of dollars to hang with you at some stuffy ball where the guys have to wear monkey suits and the food is terrible.”
“You’re totally, right, Hope. I certainly don’t want to be that person. Yuck!”
“So thanks for being understanding.”
“Do you think I should bag, also? I mean, what is scoliosis anyway. Do we really care?”
“You can’t bag now. Your name is on the invitation.”
“Whatever. I’m not going.”
Hope shrugged. She wanted to get off the phone. Charlie would be back soon from his meeting with John Cavanaugh, and she was nauseous with worry.
“It’s your decision.”
“I’m calling them right now. I’ll talk to you later,” said Polly hastily. “Oh, I made reservations for Friday night at Le Cirque. Lell and Will are coming, and you and Charlie are too. I won’t take no for an answer!” said Polly, hanging up.
Le Cirque? That would cost them $300, minimum. And she knew that Henny would again insist on ordering the most expensive wine, and they’d all have to split it. No. She and Charlie would have to decline. She’d say that one of the kids was sick. She hated doing that; she was too superstitious it might come true, but what other choice did she have?
Hope looked at her watch. Two-thirty. The kids would be up from their naps soon, so she didn’t have much time. She was drafting an e-mail to her former boss at Frothingham’s. She wanted to sound casual, but she also wanted to know if they’d be willing to rehire her on a part-time basis. Basically, she’d only net about five grand total, with the money she’d have to pay her babysitter to watch the kids, but with their savings dwindling, Charlie and Hope were running out of options.
Suddenly, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Shall I give him the job?”
Hope froze. It was John Cavanaugh.
“Um, hello—”
“Charlie just left. He’s a nice guy. A lucky guy. What shall I do?”
Hope didn’t know what to do. All of a sudden, she felt like she was in the middle of a sordid mess. It was as if she had actually done something wrong, and cheated with John. It seemed so sinister that he’d ask her this, and she felt as if she’d betrayed Charlie regardless of the fact that she’d never so much as kissed John.
“I think you should give him the job if you think he’s qualified,” was all she was able to muster.
“Come on, that seems a little wishy-washy.”
“Okay. Then yes, give him the job. Charlie’s awesome, and he’s so smart and a very hard worker—”
“Now there’s a sales pitch.”
Hope stopped. What did he want her to say? “What do you want me to say?”
“I’ll give him the job. But I want to see you in person before I do.”
“John—”
“Just once. Don’t worry. Have lunch with me in Greenwich tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at the train station. At noon.”
Hope’s blood raced. Tomorrow? Greenwich? The suburbs were the bastion of evil. But Charlie needed this job. They all needed him to get this job.
“Okay.”
“See you there.”
chapter 36
One of the most coveted invitations in town was to Maxine and Derek Jenkins’s jazz supper, held every May at their immaculately restored Harlem brownstone near Central Park North. They kept the party small, with maybe only seventy-five or so people included, which meant that everyone who was invited accepted and that, coupled with the fact that they were always able to coax a famous hermit or celeb out of seclusion, lent the evening an extra dosage of excitement. The young African-American couple were society darlings: Harvard grad Derek had founded an extremely successful hip-hop label, and Maxine’s line of dresses were sold exclusively at Barney’s and Jeffrey.
This year Lell, Hope, and Polly all made the cut, and in a nod to Lell’s success in her role of Henry Higgins, Julia was also invited. There were a flurry of phone calls among all the girls about what to wear, as well as general speculation regarding who the surprise guest would be.
As soon as Lell entered the turn-of-the-century mansion and greeted her hosts, she and her husband wordlessly parted ways, with Will heading for the bar and Lell seeking out Alastair to drag him off into one of the dark corners of the thirty-room mansion.
“Lell, you look amazing,” said Hope, greeting Lell at the entrance to the drawing room.
“You’re so sweet. You look amazing yourself.”
“Thanks.”
“So, it’s Salma Hayek,” whispered Hope.
“What do you mean?”
“The celeb guest. Salma.”
“Oh.”
“I guess she met the Jenkinses when she borrowed one of their Frida Kahlo paintings for that movie.”
“Great.” Lell could care less about celebrities. They were all uneducated idiots to her, and although she’d fake kiss their ass in order to get them to buy Pelham’s jewelry, she thought of them as little more than vaudeville morons. Acting seemed so bourgeois to her, like a wind-up monkey of sorts—someone meant to amuse the paying public.
Charlie came up and handed Hope a drink and greeted Lell with a kiss. “Can I get you something, Lell?”
“No thanks,” she replied, scanning the room. “I’m going to wait.”
Hope and Charlie both knew what Lell was waiting for, and were embarrassed that it was becoming more and more obvious to everyone. They couldn’t ignore the gossip, and the fact that Lell had basically been unreachable—although out every night—for the past few months confirmed their suspicions.
“You’ve been totally MIA lately,” said Lell, turning to the Matthews.
“I was thinking the same of you. But we’ve been around. Just not really doing t
he charity circuit.”
“Right. Gets boring,” said Lell, her eyes still dancing through the crowds looking for Alastair. Where the hell was that son of a bitch? He knew she would be there at seven forty-five. She had told him three times.
“I’m going to go say hi to Patrick Wickham,” said Charlie. “Excuse me.”
Hope looked over in the corner. Patrick Wickham worked for Tiverton Fowler, a company Charlie was interviewing with. She crossed her fingers.
“How have you been?” asked Hope.
“Wonderful,” said Lell.
“Are you sure?” asked Hope, concerned.
Lell looked at Hope with pity. Hope was the sweetest person in the world, but sometimes she just didn’t get it. She had not said anything to Hope (or to anyone except Maria) about Alastair because she knew that Hope would be horrified—so traumatized that she would probably need therapy to overcome it. Hope and Charlie had such a Leave It to Beaver perfect marriage and had been together since they were like fetuses that they could never imagine anything bad happening in their world, let alone infidelity. But they had no idea what Lell had to deal with. Will was so in her debt both financially and emotionally that she felt like he was no longer a challenge. She owned him. It was not her fault that she had no choice. She was creative and couldn’t lapse into a dull puddle of boredom.
“Don’t give me that look, please, Hope. Just please don’t.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry.”
Lell glanced around the room. She saw Julia enter—wearing a stunning Vera Wang gown. In fact, that was the very gown that she had wanted to wear, but Vera said it was on hold for someone else. What was that about? Vera was letting her assistant have first dibs? Forget that, she’d call Vera on Monday to let her know what she thought of that. Maxine clasped Julia’s hands and was obviously gushing about how happy she was that Julia had come, because Julia was beaming. Lell made a second mental note, this one to remind Julia of her place on Monday. While yes, she wanted her to be a well-regarded representative of Pelham’s, she did not want one of her employees to eclipse her. Not to mention the fact that they were in the new issue of Vogue on one of the party pictures pages and Julia’s picture was slightly larger. Hmph.
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