Wife in the Fast Lane

by Karen Quinn

  “I’m starting to. Do you love me?”

  “No, not yet.” Renata hung her head.

  Christy bit her lower lip. Then tears began to drip down her face. It wasn’t because Renata didn’t love her. It was everything.

  Renata walked behind Christy and started to rub her neck the way she used to rub Grandma’s. “There, there. It’s okay. Everything’ll be all right.” That’s what Grandma always said to Renata when she was upset.

  Christy wiped her cheeks. “You’re right. Things will work out.” She couldn’t believe that less than three months ago, her life had seemed perfect.

  “Christy, don’t take this the wrong way, but are you really crying, or are you faking? Are you just trying to make me feel sorry for you and love you?”

  “What?” Christy said, baffled.

  “You know, you’re the president of a big company. People like you don’t care if their family loves them or not. They only care about money and power. And they definitely don’t cry.”

  Christy chuckled at the idea. “Renata, I mean Stringbean, even though I’m a company president, I need my family’s love more than anything. When I’m at work, I have to act strong and powerful because that’s what everyone expects. But when I’m home, I can be myself. And right now, I feel sad. Sad enough to cry.”

  “Crying’s not presidential,” Renata said.

  “I don’t feel presidential tonight,” Christy said. “I feel like a girl who just wants her mommy to make it all better. But I don’t have a mommy.”

  “I know how you feel,” Renata said. “Neither do I.”

  Christy took Renata’s hand. “But you have me, Stringbean. I’ll always be in your corner. I promise.”

  “Christy, don’t call me ‘Stringbean’ anymore.”

  “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “I did, but when I hear you say it, it doesn’t feel like you’re talking to me. I need to think of a better name. Like maybe ‘The Whoopster’ or ‘Li’l Ren.’”

  “Why do you want a nickname, anyway?” Christy asked.

  “Michael calls you Beegee, and he loves you. I think he’d love me if I had a nickname, too. Not that I care if he loves me or not.”

  Christy didn’t know what to say. How could she tell Renata that it would take more than a nickname to get Michael to love her?

  Christy closed her eyes and tried to relax as Renata rubbed her back. After a while, she told the child to go to sleep. She had promised to take her for a haircut first thing in the morning, since school was closed for yet another teacher-enrichment day. Eve had marked it on her schedule: ‘Haircut—bond with Renata.”

  Renata left. Christy climbed into bed and tried to sleep. She didn’t remember the last time she had felt this alone.

  DEAR DIARY,

  CHRISTY WAS REAL UPSET TONIGHT. SHE CRIED WHICH SHOCKED ME BECAUSE UP UNTIL NOW I THOUGHT SHE HAD A HEART OF BONE. BUT I DID SOMETHING MEAN TO HER AT SCHOOL, SOMETHING I WILL REGRET TILL THE DAY I DIE. THAT’S ALL I’M GOING TO SAY ABOUT IT. FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, DEAR DIARY, I VOW TO BE NICER TO HER AND MAYBE EVEN TRY TO LIKE HER. I HATED STEPHANIE RICH THE FIRST TIME I MET HER. I THOUGHT SHE WAS A STUCK UP SNOT HEAD BUT NOW THAT SHE’S NICE TO ME, I LOVE HER. NOT LIKE A LESBIAN BUT LIKE A BEST FRIEND. IN CASE YOU’RE WONDERING HOW I KNOW ABOUT LESBIANS ITS BECAUSE WE STUDIED THEM IN SCIENCE. SPEAKING OF SCIENCE, I’M DOING GOOD IN ALL MY SUBJECTS EXCEPT P.E. SO EVE GOT ME A TUTOR BECAUSE I HAVE TO DO GOOD ON THE PRESIDENTIAL FITNESS TEST. JUST BECAUSE CHRISTY WAS IN THE OLYMPICS, EVE SAYS I HAVE TO EXCEL IN P.E. JUST WHAT I NEED. ANOTHER EMPLOYEE.

  YOUR FRIEND,

  RENATA (DON’T CALL ME STRINGBEAN ANYMORE)

  Bergdorf Bonding

  On the way to John Barrett’s salon, Christy dialed the office. “Lisa, call me as soon as Katherine gets in. I want to talk to her.” Lisa promised she would.

  At Bergdorf’s, she and Renata were whisked up in the stark white elevator filled with elegantly turned matrons from Connecticut, Japan, and the Middle East. Renata was not happy. Her grandmother took her to the corner barbershop instead of a fancy salon. But Christy persevered, sure she would warm up to the adventure sooner or later. Besides, Christy didn’t know any barbers.

  She had been coming here for years, ever since Katherine brought her up and personally turned her over to John Barrett, the owner and a hairdresser so famous that he was introduced to Princess Diana at the Metropolitan Museum Costume Ball as the hairdresser of American royalty. John and his staff had taught Christy a lot about being a New York woman; they were almost like her own private finishing school. Maybe they could help Renata fit in with those over-groomed Colby girls.

  The elevator opened on the opposite side, which Renata got a great kick out of. They entered a world of sparse elegance, with lavender walls and minimalist furnishings. It was completely quiet; everyone was speaking in their best indoor voices. The entry foyer was a wide-open expanse of marble floor, with hairdressers and their attendants, mostly young, all skinny, clad in black and white, rushing quietly from one side of the salon to the other.

  Michelle greeted Christy like a long-lost sister, then introduced herself to Renata. She took their order for drinks and no-calorie salads. The walls were lined with black-and-white photos from fashion shoots, featuring beautiful young girls in candid moments behind the scenes. Renata, who was tough to intimidate, seemed cowed and said nothing.

  A few minutes later, Michelle led them back to Anna, the gorgeous bronze-skinned redhead who would be cutting Renata’s hair. Christy knew it wouldn’t do to ask for John in this situation, and she didn’t think Renata needed a $400 haircut. She wasn’t convinced that she herself needed them. Anna and Renata started bonding immediately, both Queens-born and bred. Anna trimmed away at lightning speed, revealing a refined and even more lovely Renata. Looking at her, Christy realized with some pride that none of Renata’s classmates had her natural beauty.

  As Anna was finishing, Gabrielle walked over. At five feet nine, with four-inch heels and spiky hair, she was an institution all her own, harder to get in to see than John himself. She liked Christy, but Christy was left to wonder if it was because she was such a nice person or because she was plastered on billboards all over the city. Of course, at this salon, she was a very minor celebrity. Christy was grateful that her marriage to Michael had ensured her place as John’s client.

  As Gabrielle began plucking Renata’s eyebrows with her awful instruments of torture, the child let out a wail. All heads turned, the soft hum of name-dropping and confessing all to one’s hairdresser halted. Christy stifled a giggle, remembering her own reaction the first time. But then Renata saw the results. She looked regal, like a real Mexican princess. Anna had managed to tame her hair without sacrificing the dramatic impact of those long black curls. And Renata liked it. She smiled at herself in the mirror. Christy felt she had finally done something right.

  James Bonding

  Steven, can you drop me at the office, then take Renata to Stephanie’s house?” Christy asked when they hopped in the car.

  “No problem,” he said.

  “That was kinda fun,” Renata said. “I’m gonna get my hair cut at beauty shops from now on.”

  Christy fluffed her curls. “You liked that, huh?”

  Renata nodded. Steven observed the girls in his rearview mirror and chuckled.

  “That’s a pretty necklace,” Christy said, admiring the gold chain and heart that Renata was wearing. “Was it your grandma’s?”

  “No. Stephanie Rich gave it to me. It means we’re best friends.”

  “Really?” Christy said as her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID: It was Lisa. “So where’s Katherine?” Christy asked.

  “Sorry I took so long to get back to you, but she just called. Said she had to go to Connecticut for a family emergency.”

  Christy thought for a moment. “Lisa, do me a favor. Go to the Nextel site, the mobile locator page where you can track a phone. Do you know how to d
o that?”

  “Oh, sure. I keep that page on my screen all day so Katherine can track Alex.”

  “Can you use it to find Katherine?” Christy asked.

  “Just give me a second here. I have to input her number,” Lisa said while typing. “Well, what do you know?” she exclaimed.

  “What?”

  “She’s not in Connecticut. She’s home. At least, her phone is.”

  “Thanks,” Christy said. “Remind me to thank Katherine for telling me about the tracking feature. I’ll stop at her house. But don’t let her know.” Christy snapped her cell shut. “Steven, on second thought, take me to Eighty-fourth and Madison.”

  “Why don’t you want Katherine to know you’re coming?” Renata asked.

  “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

  “I promise,” Renata said. She loved secrets.

  “Some people at the office think that Katherine may be having a relationship with a man who works for her. If she is, that’s not allowed. I’m going to her house to find out if it’s true. So when we get there, you have to wait outside. Okay? This won’t take long.”

  “Oh, okay.” Renata didn’t see why that was such a big deal, but whatever.

  Steven drove up Madison to Katherine’s town house on East Eighty-fourth Street. Two years ago, she had purchased the run-down town house for a song. It had been subdivided into small rent-stabilized apartments inhabited by activist tenants with no intention of moving. After much legal maneuvering, she’d managed to get everyone evicted, even the eighty-seven-year-old woman who had called the place home for forty-two years. That made the newspaper. Katherine had bought her a one-bedroom in a high-rise that was better suited to an old arthritic lady with a son who worked at the Post. Then she engaged in a major renovation that turned the former eyesore into a showplace with a perfectly manicured backyard.

  While Renata and Steven waited, Christy walked up the stoop and rang the doorbell. There was no answer. She rang again. Nothing. Frustrated, she came back to the car. “She’s not home.”

  “Is there a backyard?” Renata asked. “Do you want me to check?”

  Christy considered the offer. “No, I’ll go.” She walked around the corner and up the narrow alley. As she approached the garden, Christy was stopped by familiar voices. She crept silently toward the sound and then hid behind the trees in the back corner of the lot, listening.

  “…make a move soon, she’ll drive the company into the ground. Everyone’s options’ll be worthless,” Katherine said.

  Christy felt herself go cold. Then she heard footsteps coming down the alley. Renata was doing her patented secret-agent tiptoe down the narrow path. Christy gave her a disapproving look. “I thought you might need me,” the child whispered. Christy scowled, then turned her head so she could hear better.

  “…make it seem like a planned transition instead of a coup,” a man was saying. It sounded like Karl Lehmann, one of their directors. “We can’t let the stock drop further.”

  “We negotiate a deal where Christy’s made chairman and I’m appointed CEO. Then, six months later, she goes quietly into the night,” Katherine said.

  Why that double-crossing, conniving, scheming bitch. I’m gonna kill her, Christy thought. She started to move in, intent on confronting the conspirators. Renata grabbed her wrists, shook her head urgently, and put her finger to her lips. Christy stayed put.

  “Will she go quietly?” someone asked. It sounded like Richard Bender. Traitor, Christy thought. After all she’d done to help his son get that track scholarship!

  “If we pay her enough she will,” Karl said.

  “I don’t think we have to,” Katherine said. “Wall Street Week’s about to publish a very unflattering profile on her.”

  “How do you know?” Karl asked.

  Rick Slotnik piped up. “I’ve been working with the reporter since the story was proposed. He’s already warned me the piece won’t be pretty.”

  “Can’t you do something?” the director who sounded like Richard Bender asked. “A hatchet job on our CEO will hurt everyone.”

  Thank you, Dick Bender, if that’s who you are, Christy thought. You have slightly redeemed yourself.

  “Believe me, I’m doing my best,” Rick said.

  Well, your best isn’t good enough, Christy wanted to scream. How many times do I have to tell you that?

  “What about the advertising?” Karl asked. “Christy’s in all our promotions.”

  “That’s covered. We’re launching a new campaign using current Olympic athletes,” Rick said.

  “It’s about time,” Katherine added. “These new female athletes we’re using have magnificent bodies. Finally a spokesperson who isn’t as flat as a boy.”

  What! Christy thought. That hurts. That really hurts. You have crossed the line, Katherine Garcia Winslow Witherspoon Kilborn. There’s no turning back now.

  “I think she looks pretty damn good,” Dick Bender countered.

  Thank you, Dick Bender. You have redeemed yourself even more. If you weren’t about to stick a knife in my back, I might go so far as to forgive you.

  Christy wasn’t sure what to do. Should she storm in on the clandestine meeting and say exactly the right thing to put the conspirators in their place? But what was the right thing to say? Christy knew she couldn’t afford to blow it. Renata gently took Christy’s elbow and led her out of the alley. Barely making a sound, they got back in the car. Christy’s eyes were wide open. Her heart was pounding. She was dumbstruck.

  Gently, Renata patted Christy’s hand. “I don’t think you’re flat as a boy.”

  Solid as a Rock

  To: Michaeldrummond@aol.com

  Fr: Galit@TFJ.com

  Michael, La Dame Blanche was great. I have missed climbing the last few years, the buzz and the risk. And we got a lot of good material to get started with. I will need about 10 more days in total from you for the overall effort. It helps that you know your mind and say what you mean. I will call your assistant and arrange some times—I think chunks of a day or two work best. It can be over 2 to 4 months. Galit

  To: Galit@TFJ.com

  Fr: Michaeldrummond@aol.com

  Galit, I’m not sure I like talking about myself so much to a stranger, but your questions were pretty fair. I guess that’s how you suck them in. Part of that famous Galit charm. Let’s hope I survive it. Michael

  Steven dropped Renata off at her play date with Stephanie Rich, then drove Christy to Michael’s office. This was the first time since their wedding that Christy had surprised her husband at work. But Michael was delighted to see her. His assistant and secretaries were so solicitous it almost made her uncomfortable. I am the boss’s wife, she thought. I guess this is how wives of CEOs are treated. Under the circumstances, it felt good.

  Michael walked her into the dining area of his office where they could talk. He held Christy’s hand as they spoke. It felt good to have him on her side. That was the only thing keeping her together.

  “Beeg, call Niles Raines. He’s always been your biggest supporter. All we know is that two directors are with Katherine. Where do the others stand? Niles’ll find out.”

  “And what if everyone’s gunning for my head? How do I fight back?”

  “Either you or Niles will go see each board member, one at a time. They need to be reminded that you started the company. That you’ve never let them down. Ever. That even at a time when industry profits are falling, yours are holding steady. And while, yes, you’ve been plagued with bad press lately, you believe Katherine and Rick are behind it.”

  “You don’t think that’ll make me sound paranoid? I need proof. Can you ask Galit who fed her that first story?”

  “I can ask, but I don’t think she’ll reveal a source. What about Lisa? Could she check Katherine’s phone records and see if there are any calls to reporters?”

  “That’s a good idea. She’ll do that for me—at least I think she will.”

&nbs
p; “Come here,” Michael said.

  Christy moved to Michael’s lap. He held her tightly, gently rubbing her back. She could feel his heart beating against her chest. “I love you so much,” Christy said. “What would I do without you?”

  “Luckily, you’ll never have to find out,” he said, holding her. Christy wished he would never let her go.

  Renata Gets Caught with Her Pants Down (Literally)

  Steven drove Christy to Raines Partners’ offices. Niles would see her immediately. Meanwhile, Lisa was going through Katherine’s phone records to see if there were calls to reporters that preceded publication of the negative press.

  Christy’s cell phone rang.

  “You need to get to my house to pick up your perverted daughter. And make it snappy. I caught her naked with my Stephanie doing…things.”

  “Brownie, calm down. What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about you. You have no control over that child of yours. She was naked. NAKED with my daughter.”

  Christy wanted to hide. Could this day get any worse?

  “Renata was naked with Stephanie?” Christy said, hoping Steven wasn’t listening. “Well, was Stephanie naked, too?”

  “They were both naked.”

  “So how do you know it wasn’t Stephanie who influenced Renata?”

  “What, are you nuts? Stephanie comes from a good family. A vigilant mother raised her. Obviously, that little tart of yours was allowed to run wild in the projects and now she’s spreading her smutty ways to the nice girls at Colby. Well, it’s not gonna happen. Not on my watch.”

  “Brownie, calm yourself. Renata’s not a…a tart. How can you talk about a child that way? Kids their age are curious. Didn’t you play doctor when you were little?”

  “NO, I DID NOT. And there’s more. Your little chippy stole a necklace from my jewelry box. That was all she was wearing when I caught her acting inappropriately with my Stephanie. God knows how many years of therapy it’ll take my baby to get over this.”