“I just got off the phone with People.”
“They get nothing. Yet.”
He rolled his eyes at the very idea. “Of course not.”
“Did they ask about her sexual orientation?”
“They all do.”
“Isn’t it funny that that’s still a thing?” Mimi asked. “Lila is steadfastly refusing to acknowledge that it is. So odd for her to dig her heels in about something that could be sensationalized.”
He shrugged and sat down in her chair. Leaning forward, he scanned the multiple photo spreads laid out across her glass and nickel desk. “I like this one.”
Mimi picked up the glossy shot of Cobie standing tall and cocky behind a spray of ice, while in the background, Lila stood, eyes wide, hands near her face as if she didn’t want to watch but couldn’t look away. “That’s your girl all right. You know she almost looks like she could play Vale there.”
He wouldn’t go quite that far, but she had taken a step in the right direction. “Almost.”
“And what about this one?” She pointed to a grainier shot, clearly ripped from a cell phone, of Lila kissing Cobie, hands framing her face with perfect affection. “A hundred bucks says that wasn’t planned.”
He inspected the shot closer. Cobie’s eyes were closed but her eyebrows were raised. He could read a hint of surprise in them. Also, her hands were in her own lap instead of on Lila. “I wouldn’t take that bet, at least not from Cobie’s standpoint. Then again, what Lila has planned and what Cobie has planned could very easily be different things.”
“You really think they aren’t on the same page yet?”
“I know it’s probably not completely fair,” he said with resignation in his voice, “but I don’t think Cobie is even capable of being on the same page as Lila.”
Mimi shook her head but remained quiet, still focusing intently on the papers before her. She shuffled one on top of the others. It featured the two of them in a tacky, rink-side booth, the color of which was not flattering, but the backdrop didn’t matter nearly as much as the primary subjects. No one who saw this shot would talk about the bench.
Stan could hardly look at it directly. The intimacy was almost too much, and he had an unreasonably high tolerance for crushing other’s right to privacy. Both women stared at each other, eyes soft, lips parted. Neither of their heads was angled even an inch toward the camera, which caught them in profile, the vantage point showing just how close they were to each other. Nothing about the set-up suggested the moment was staged.
“This one could sink us,” Mimi said softly.
He nodded, a grim awareness thick in the air around them.
“You’re not worried about that, are you?” she asked.
“I worry about everything. It’s my job.”
She turned to face him, resting the small of her back against the edge of the desk and taking off her glasses. “I love you for that.”
He nodded, a familiar flutter in his chest.
“But those are two grown women. They’re smart and talented, and deep down they’re both good people.”
“Do you think they know that?”
She smiled. “Probably not, but we’ll just have to make it so clear to the rest of the world that they can’t help but see it too.”
“You think we can do that?”
She smiled. “I can’t speak for you, but I’m a marketing goddess.”
He didn’t argue. Instead, he clasped a hand on each of her hips and pulled her close enough to kiss. “Did you know I find smart women sexy?”
“Lucky for you, you married one of the smartest around.”
He rose and caught her mouth with his own. Lucky for him indeed.
Chapter Four
“My sister says we’re viral,” the text read. “Probably we should get vaccinations.”
Lila laughed softly and typed back, “We’re very contagious.”
“Should we quarantine ourselves?” came Cobie’s quick response.
“No, the only cure is more of the cause.”
“I’m learning so much. I’ve never gone viral before.”
“I’m glad I could be your first,” Lila typed, then biting her lip added, “They say you always remember your first.”
“Are you texting Cobie again?” Felipe asked
“Just working out a few details for next weekend.” Lila quickly tossed the cell phone into her Versace handbag and stared out the window of the rented town car. They turned north on Broadway, much farther north than the tourists tended to go.
“Is she getting needy already?” There was more than a hint of cattiness in his tone.
Needy? No, she couldn’t ever picture Cobie getting needy, and honestly, the thought didn’t please her. Lila didn’t want a stage five clinger, but she preferred the people in her life to need her more than she needed them. It kept the balance of power tilted in her favor. It also helped her remember that anyone could be replaced. At least anyone in the business. “She’s doing fine, just a little green.”
“She seemed to hold her own on your date last week, or at least that’s what it looked like on Entertainment Tonight.” He waited for her to bite, and when she didn’t, he added, “Because that’s where I’m getting my information these days. And you know that’s not normal. Something’s off here, or you’d be a lot more forthcoming.”
She waved him off. “I’ve told you everything I can tell you. The date went how it needed to.”
“But you kissed her this time?”
“It’s part of the process.”
“A planned part or a spontaneous part?”
She flashed back to the moment, how she’d tried to be annoyed at Cobie’s antics, at her eternal optimism, at the playful side Lila found more endearing than she should. She’d made an attempt to scare her with an icy stare, to tamp down her good-natured tenor by reiterating the ground rules. She’d even hoped to reveal some sort of dark underside to Cobie’s affability by being sharper than necessary. And when all else had failed, she resorted to the one equalizer that had never failed her: pure sexual prowess.
The move had paid off in the press. The picture of the kiss had been shared almost as many times as the first one, and it had framed well. No one could doubt the moment had been spontaneous and genuine, but looking back, she had a hard time remembering it wasn’t. And that bothered her enough to sugarcoat it to Felipe. “It was a little bit of both. She was there, she had cheese on her lip, and the cameras were angled perfectly. I saw an opportunity to sell us, and I took it.”
“And that’s all it was, seizing a marketing moment?”
“Mostly.”
“Ah-ha!” He pointed a perfectly manicured finger at her. “I knew it!”
“There’s nothing to know.”
“Then why are you blushing?”
“I’m wearing blush,” she said dryly but tried to discreetly eye her reflection in the window.
“You wanted to kiss her.”
“Maybe, but only because I wanted to put her in her place.”
“And her place is on the tip of your tongue?”
“Her place is wherever she’ll be most useful to me.”
“Oh no, girlfriend, not with me. No you don’t.” He then gasped and covered his mouth. “Are you gay?”
“I’m bisexual now, remember?”
“Duh, but for real, are you, like, going to start ordering fish tacos?”
“Ordering what?” She asked shrilly, torn between finding the question offensive and hilarious.
“Do you want to become a connoisseur carpet-muncher?”
“I am not going to answer any questions that refer to body parts as seafood or home decor.”
“I don’t know what you’re supposed to call them,” he whined. “I don’t have them. No one I sleep with has them. I’ve heard tell of caverns and flower petals and kittens, but it’s all hearsay. As far as I know, you could use your down-there parts to spin yarn or whatever fibers they use to make Birkenstock foot beds with.�
��
She laughed outright as they pulled into a covered garage and slowed to a stop outside a set of metal doors labeled Employee Entrance. There was no fanfare, no red carpet, no welcoming committee, and most of all, no press.
“Can we table this discussion until, I don’t know, indefinitely? We’ve got more important things to focus on.”
He didn’t argue the point, but as she exited the car, he fell in beside her. “Can’t you just give me an honest answer to the question of whether or not you find Cobie physically attractive?”
“Of course she’s attractive. She’s a movie star.”
“You know that’s not what I meant, and I didn’t mean the platonic, everyone-is-beautiful-in-their-own-way bullshit sense either.” He held open a large metal door for her.
Lila sighed as they walked straight across the hall and into an elevator. He wasn’t going to let up. She might as well give him an answer. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t done so already. She could easily tell him she wasn’t any more attracted to Cobie than any of the other people she’d dated in the last few years. That wouldn’t be saying much, except it probably said a lot. She had dated some of the most desirable men in America, and to put Cobie on par with them would actually put Cobie in rare company. And yet doing so still wouldn’t convey quite enough if she wanted to be honest with her best friend. She actually did find Cobie more attractive than any of the others, a fact that disconcerted her on many levels, issues about her sexuality the least among them.
“Never mind,” Felipe finally said as the elevator rose through the building. “You’re obviously not there yet.”
“I’m right where I need to be,” she said coolly.
“If you were, you’d be ready to talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Being attracted to a woman is kind of important.”
“To whom?” she asked quickly. “The press? They were the first to know.”
“And I assume you aren’t going to tell Cobie?”
She rolled her eyes, catching a glimpse of herself in the brushed metal ceiling. Few people would recognize her dressed down in jeans and a baggy Gap sweatshirt, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. If her legions of so-called devotees couldn’t see past such a subdued disguise, she didn’t worry about the likes of Cobie Galloway unearthing any deeply held secrets.
“So you’re going to stick with the generic I-see-beauty-everywhere answer?”
“I can’t see any reason why anyone would need to hear anything more than that. Who I spend time with matters only to people who stand to make or lose money. It’s not worth talking about any other way,” Lila said as the elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the pediatric cancer floor of Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital.
The next few hours were a blur of tiny faces and prevention measures. She traded her fashion icon accessories for paper gowns as she entered the rooms where children got their chemo treatments. She wore rubber gloves when she stopped to color a picture for a little girl too weak to hold her own crayons. She kissed the tops of bald heads and signed everything from scrubs to bandages. She kept her phone in her pocket the entire time, never once checking to see if any of the texts she got were more important than the person she was speaking to. She already knew the answer to that question.
She stayed for several hours, stopping in every room the nursing staff had indicated to Felipe ahead of their arrival, but as she quietly slipped out of the last one, a petite woman in Mickey Mouse scrubs caught her arm.
Lila turned abruptly as Felipe shot forward, nearly throwing his body between them, but with one look at the woman’s eyes, Lila held up her hand to stop him.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Wilder.” The nurse stepped back and rung her hands together. “I know you’re very busy, and you’ve already spent so much more time here than anyone could expect.”
She smiled politely, wondering where she was going with this. The woman had the apologetic mannerisms of someone about to ask a favor. An autograph? A donation?
“But there’s one more patient, and I wouldn’t mean to keep you very long, it’s just . . .”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Of course. I want to see anyone who wants to see me. I thought the list went around earlier today.”
“It did. Only this girl, she’s not really a typical fan of yours.” The nurse’s smile suggested she may have used a gross understatement. “But I thought, given recent events, it might do her some good to meet you.”
Recent events. Cryptic but intriguing.
“We told Malik we’d meet him ten minutes ago.” Felipe offered her an out.
“No, it’s okay. What room?”
The woman motioned for her to follow her down a few doors to one that was cracked open only a smidge. The room beyond seemed dark, and Lila worried she might be waking the occupant, until she noticed a faint glow from a television. “Do I need a gown or mask?”
“No. She’s nearing the end of her treatment.”
Lila’s breath caught, and she must have looked horrified, because the nurse’s eyes went wide. “No, I didn’t mean she— Oh, sorry, I can’t tell you anything about her medical information for privacy reasons, but you’ll see. Her condition is more complicated than her chart would ever indicate.”
Lila nodded, not knowing for sure what she meant but still understanding the sentiment.
“Go on, and don’t let her scare you.”
“I don’t scare easily.”
The nurse smiled broadly and squeezed Lila’s arm. “Bless you for that.”
Then she walked away, leaving Lila to enter the room on her own.
“Knock, knock,” she said lightly as she peeked her head inside. The room smelled staler than the others, as if the air didn’t move as much and the antiseptic fumes were allowed to stagnate. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust enough to see a figure sitting up in bed. She was older than the others, maybe sixteen or seventeen, long and lanky, with a strong jaw and big brown eyes that first widened, then narrowed suspiciously.
“Hi,” she whispered. “I’m Lila.”
The girl said nothing, and the only movement came from her chest rising and falling slowly, the imprint of a chemo port faintly visible under her thin blue hospital gown.
“Mind if I join you?”
She shrugged and nodded toward a chair beside her bed. Lila sat down, searching her surroundings for any hint as to why the nurse had sent her in, but there were few personal touches to glean information from. Even with the lights off and the curtains drawn, she could make out how sparse the room felt compared to all the others she’d visited. There were no cards, no balloons, no flowers on windowsills, no toys from home, no photographs beside the bed, and most glaringly of all, no family members present.
“I like this cave style of decorating you’ve got going on here. Very minimalistic chic.”
The girl snorted, her smile faint.
“What do you do for fun around here? Hang upside down from the ceiling? Watch the stalagmites form?”
“Sacrifice virgins and make pacts with the devil.”
“Now you’re talking,” Lila said. “Sounds just like signing a record deal.”
The girl’s smile grew. “I thought you were all sunshine and rainbow shit.”
“Hey, that’s Ms. Sunshine and Rainbow Shit to you.”
“Why are you in here?” the girl asked, not sounding accusatory so much as surprised.
“I’m not sure. What are you doing in here?”
“Killing cancer cells.”
“Show off.”
The girl smiled again, grudgingly. “I’m Addie.”
“Nice to meet you, Addie. You seem like a real smart-ass. I like that in a woman.”
Addie’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t reply, and Lila wondered what she’d said wrong. She looked around, trying to figure out what to say next. She didn’t usually have this problem. Kids loved her, everyone loved her, and she neve
r had trouble holding anyone’s attention. Not that she didn’t have Addie’s attention. Those big, dark eyes watched her carefully, seeming to harbor questions Lila couldn’t answer any more than Addie could bring herself to ask them. She looked down for a second, trying to gather herself, and noticed a large sketchpad sitting on the floor. She picked it up and raised her eyebrows to Addie. “May I?”
The girl shrugged almost defiantly, causing Lila to smile. She remembered that stage of sharing her work, nervousness blended with a frightening desire for approval, which butted up against the teenage insistence on refusing to care what other people thought.
She flipped open the sketch pad and fought to remain neutral as she thumbed through a series of drawings, from Spanish-style skulls to dismembered angel wings to toys laying broken on stone floors. Each one was stark and compelling, the emotions of the strokes expanding on the technical aspects of the piece. There was a sadness to them, but also a ferocity. As she continued to turn pages, the pictures transitioned from the inanimate to the intimate: a girl in anime style, black and white. She had broad shoulders, big eyes with thick lashes, and long dark hair. Lila stole a glance at Addie lying in the bed. There was no hair on her head, no eyebrows or lashes either, but the eyes were the same, sorrowful and proud.
She turned more pages and another figure appeared, even darker, almost mystical. The character was certainly female, though only her eyes gave her gender away. They were the same eyes as before with thick beautiful lashes, but now the hair was short and shaggy in jagged cuts across her forehead. The rest was covered with a dark hood that blended into a black shirt tucked tightly into dark cargo pants. The ensemble was finished with lace-up combat boots and a knapsack strap slung diagonally across her chest. In an X rising up behind her back stood the handles of either staffs or swords. Who would she fight? There was no enemy on the page, or maybe, from the glint of hardness in those big open eyes, the enemy was meant to be the viewer. Lila’s breathing grew shallow at the thought.
Who did Addie have to protect herself from? The cancer? The world at large? Or a more specific threat? She stared over the edge of the pad once more, seeing the same eyes reflecting the same fear and challenge.
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