Wife in the Fast Lane

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Wife in the Fast Lane Page 29

by Karen Quinn


  Ali and Renata put on their bathing suits, got into the tub, and gave the goat his first bath. Christy, Renata, and Little-Maria walked the animal, which Renata had named Princess Anastasia in honor of Mrs. De Mille (even though it was a boy goat). They tried taking it to the Central Park dog run, but it caused such a stir that a park ranger threatened to write a ticket. Still, Christy was pretty sure the goat was becoming housebroken.

  Michael Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

  Christy had just come in from a run when the buzzer sounded.

  “Miss Kilborn’s here to see you,” Tony said.

  “Who?”

  There was mumbling on the other end of the intercom as Tony conferred with the visitor. “Miss Katherine Kilborn.”

  “Send her up,” Christy said. I suppose.

  Soon, the doorbell rang. Why hadn’t she told Tony to turn her away? Instead, she was standing there frozen with the intercom phone in her hand. “I’ll get it,” Christy said, shooing Jorge. She looked through the peephole and caught a distorted view of Katherine—forehead enlarged, no chin, minuscule body. It was her best angle, Christy thought, opening the door. Sure enough, there Katherine stood, all decked out in a checkered Chanel suit and Prada heels, carrying her Gucci bag. The bitch was as stunning as ever. Seeing Katherine filled Christy with a sense of loss. For some reason, she felt the old tug of her former girlfriend and confidante. She remembered the day Vanity Fair had photographed them modeling fall executive fashions. They were both so proud of having their picture in that magazine. Then she flashed on that last board meeting, the one she had relived hundreds of times. How could she possibly think of missing this Judas?

  Christy stood at the door and said nothing. Katherine’s eyes misted up, and she burst into tears. She stepped forward and embraced her. “We need you back.”

  Christy waited for Katherine to stop blubbering.

  Katherine composed herself and reached for Christy’s hand. “How are you, Christy?”

  “I’m great. Everything’s hunky-dory.” She would never tell her about Michael. Christy knew she’d act all concerned but would be secretly delighted. “What about you?”

  “Christy, it has been so hard for me since you left. I hate being at the company without you as my partner. More than anything, I hate that we aren’t friends anymore. Everyone misses you at Baby G. I’m here to ask you to come back.”

  Christy’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding.”

  “No, I’m not. The place is a mess without you.”

  “But that Journal article said business was soaring. You’ve made all those amazing changes and turned around what I wasn’t capable of leading.”

  “You know how it is with the media. We had to put our best foot forward for the good of the company.”

  “Yeah, while you smeared me.”

  Katherine looked down. “I’m sorry about that. And also about what I did to you at the board meeting. It’s just…I was so sick of living in your shadow. You probably can’t understand that because you’ve never been anyone’s second banana. I just wanted to be in charge for once. But it’s lonely at the top. That’s a cliché, I know, but it’s true. If I can’t run Baby G with you, I don’t want to run it anymore.”

  “So let me guess: the business is in some kind of trouble, and you want me back so I can take the heat.”

  “No, don’t be ridiculous. Times aren’t easy. But they never are, are they? The company needs your guidance and leadership.”

  “And what does the board say?”

  “They want you back, too. Especially Niles Raines.”

  “Katherine, you’ve set me up as a complete loser in the press. News that I was coming back would start a selling frenzy.”

  “I’m sure Rick can handle the press, spin the story into a positive. At least tell me you’ll think about it?”

  “In what capacity would I come back?” Christy asked. “Special projects?”

  “No. Of course not. It would be the same as before. You’d be number one; I’d be number two.”

  “Wow. That’s big of you,” Christy said. Too big.

  “That’s how much I want you back,” Katherine said urgently.

  Christy looked at her watch. “Listen, I gotta go. Sorry. Not interested.” With that she shut the door in Katherine’s face and looked through the peephole to watch her leave. As soon as Katherine disappeared into the elevator, Christy leaned back against the door and started breathing again. If Katherine had stayed one more minute, Christy knew she might have been sucked into believing that she really cared. That girl was poison. Christy walked to the library to tell Michael that she had finally put her past behind her. Then she remembered he didn’t live there anymore.

  To: [email protected]

  Fr: [email protected]

  Michael, we need to talk ASAP. I met with your ex-CFO today, Andy Chapman. He gave me an earful. Says Drummond Enterprises is in serious trouble. Provided documentation that you have pledged assets you don’t own to back up your credit lines. Says Drummond Enterprises is a house of cards. If any of the loans are called, the whole company will topple. If I put this in your biography or write an article about it for the Journal, it would be disastrous. But as a responsible reporter, how can I ignore it? Meet me for drinks at the Sherry Netherland, 6 p.m. It’s private there. Galit

  An Uneasy Truce

  Christy walked up the red-carpeted stairs of the Harvard Club carrying a garment bag. Dead white men stared down at her from portrait after portrait. She walked quietly upstairs to Michael’s door and stopped, listening for Galit’s voice. Only Michael was talking, most likely on a call. She could just make out a few words: Galit…mortgaged…renegotiate. Finally, when all was quiet, she knocked.

  “Coming,” he said.

  Michael opened the door and smiled.

  Christy’s stomach did a flip. Logically, she knew she was furious with him. So why did her heart melt at the sight of him? Play it cool, she told herself. “Can I come in?”

  Michael opened the door for her.

  “I brought you some clothes,” she said. “I figured you were trying to make do with one suit.” Taking one look at his crumpled appearance, she knew she was right.

  “Thanks,” Michael said. “It’s so great to see you.”

  As he hung everything in the tiny closet, Christy looked around. The room was old, dank, and in need of renovation. There were two single beds, a color TV, a small desk and dresser, a green plaid chair with stuffing coming out, and water stains on the ceiling. “Why are you staying here?” She knew he could afford the presidential suite at the Plaza Athénée.

  “This is where all Harvard men go when they separate from their wives.”

  “Ah, I see. Tradition.”

  “I guess,” he said. “It is pretty small, now that you mention it.”

  “Yeah, it is. You’re not looking too good, Michael. Is anything wrong?”

  Michael looked at Christy like she had two heads.

  “Oh right. Us.”

  “You look good, though,” he said. “I guess you’re managing.”

  “Yep, I’m running again—six miles a day. I decided to train for the New York City Marathon. Plus, Jerome got me this amazing deal with the Olympic Foundation. I’m gonna help raise an endowment to support our athletes.”

  “That’s exciting. Congratulations.” Michael looked devastated. He seemed to be barely functioning. She felt a moment of triumph.

  “Not only that, they want me to start a mentoring program for new Olympians. You know, match past competitors and medal winners with young contenders coming down the pike. Isn’t that a good idea?”

  “It sounds like a great project.”

  “Oh, and Katherine asked me to come back to Baby G in the number-one position.”

  Michael looked surprised. “Are you considering it?”

  Christy would sooner become one of Brownie’s minions than go back to work with Katherine, but she wasn’t about
to tell Michael that. “Depending on what happens with us, I may need a job.”

  Michael cringed. “Just be careful. Don’t let her suck you in again, Christy. She’s already caused you a lifetime of pain.”

  “Yes, there’s a lot of that going around.” She paused. “Are you coming to see Ali tonight?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t been by yet. I’ve been looking for an apartment so I can get her out of your hair.”

  “She’s not a bother, really. But you need to spend some time with her. Last night, she asked me if I’d help her get birth-control pills.”

  “What? I hope you told her no.” Michael stood and began pacing on the tiny patch of carpet between the end of the bed and the bathroom door.

  “No, I told her she should talk to you. If she’s sexually active, you’d better get her on birth control.”

  “But she’s only sixteen,” Michael said, still pacing. “I can’t condone that kind of behavior.”

  “I suppose you can lock her in her room until she’s twenty-one. Or you can talk to her. Maybe you can help her see that she’s not ready to have sex.”

  “Right. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll stop by tonight. Girls need to have involved fathers. Ali has to know she can depend on me.”

  “And what about Renata? You don’t think she depends on you? You don’t think she needs an involved father?”

  “Christy, we agreed. You’re the one who wanted her.”

  Christy groaned. “You’re some piece of work, Michael. You once told me that if you couldn’t live with Ali, you couldn’t live with someone else’s child. Remember? Well, now we have Ali. So why can’t you let Renata into your heart? She’s a great kid. And truth be told, you need her as much as she needs you.” Christy walked over to the door and opened it. “I’ll see you.”

  “Wait,” Michael said. “It’s you I need. I miss you so much. Do you miss me?”

  “I’m too angry to miss you,” she said. That wasn’t true. Christy missed him like crazy. But too many issues were unresolved. She wasn’t about to admit her true feelings. Still, she wanted to give him something without giving him ground. “Listen, Renata’s graduation is coming up a week from Friday. Will you come? It would mean a lot to her,” she said.

  “Sure, just have Eve call my office with the details.” Michael brightened a little.

  “Her family showed up,” Christy said.

  “Whose family?”

  “Renata’s.”

  “She’s got family? Well, that’s wonderful. She can go with them. You and I can be together again the way we used to be.” Michael took Christy’s hands in his. “Ali can live with us. Suzanna’s already stipulated to my having permanent custody. You’ll have a real daughter. What do you think?”

  “What do I think? I think you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said. You want to throw Renata out for Ali? Your daughter for mine? Let’s get something straight, Michael. I already have a real daughter. And I’m going to do everything I can to keep Renata with me. So if we do get back together, and that’s a huge if right now, she’s part of the package.”

  Michael stood silent, thinking.

  “I guess we’ll see you at graduation?” Christy said.

  “Of course.”

  Christy left. It was all very civilized. And sad.

  To: [email protected]

  Fr: [email protected]

  Michael, what say we take the jet to Argentina next Friday for a long weekend of spring skiing? I know an amazing place—Cerro Castor. We can ski Cerro Krund. It’s some of the most beautiful terrain in the world. You free? Galit

  To: [email protected]

  Fr: [email protected]

  Galit, I have to go to Christy’s kid’s graduation. Give me a rain check? Michael

  To: [email protected]

  Fr: [email protected]

  I’m finding it harder and harder to stay quiet about your company’s financial problems. Ben is losing patience with all the time I’m spending on your book. He’s asking for some interim articles on Drummond Enterprises. What if I write about the loans that are secured by mortgaged collateral, but I list the steps you’re taking to rectify the problem? Galit

  To: [email protected]

  Fr: [email protected]

  Galit, I can’t go to Argentina over the weekend, but can go for the next three days. You free now? We can talk about your interim article on the way over. Michael

  Michael was terrified.

  Once Upon a Goat

  The fifth-grade graduation was held in the Astor ballroom on the top floor of the Colby mansion. The palatial room featured travertine panels, crystal chandeliers, and enormous windows that overlooked Park Avenue. The space was so spectacular that the school booked it on weekends for weddings. The money went to the PTA. Brownie told everyone that renting the room was her idea, but it was really Patty Fitch’s. Brownie took credit for all the best ideas.

  Today, the space was decorated with magnificent flower arrangements of yellow and white. The two front rows were set with twenty-four chairs where the young graduates sat in their white gowns with their yellow-rose wrist corsages. The head of the lower school, the headmistress, Brownie, and LaShaun Mason were seated at the dais, which was set up on the side of the stage, across from the podium. As chairwoman of the graduation exercises, Christy was on the dais, too.

  Andrea walked up to the stage and motioned Christy over. “Christy, did you ask Jorge if he’d be willing to build us four walls of library shelves?”

  “I did. He said he’d be delighted.”

  “Brilliant! I love what he’s done with your kitchen. Tell him I’ll pay twenty thousand plus expenses. That’s what my old carpenter bid on the job. But he’s so unreliable.”

  “I’m sure Jorge will think that’s fair,” Christy said. Fair! That was probably more than he made in a year in Mexico. Christy couldn’t wait to tell him. Even Old-Maria’s business was booming now that she was in New York and could call on her customers personally. Every evening she’d e-mail her daily orders back to Federico, the plant manager, who would ship fresh goat cheese to the finest restaurants and gourmet shops in the city. Christy desperately hoped that the lure of the American dream would keep Jorge and the three Marias from leaving. She already had a lawyer working on securing the proper immigration papers, just in case they decided to stay.

  She glanced over Andrea’s head, looking for Michael. Nectar and Ali were sitting toward the back with Renata’s Mexican family. Princess Anastasia was on the chair next to Little-Maria, who had tucked the goat into her play stroller and snuck him in. Christy was sure the kid would get busted. They were so serious about rules at Colby.

  “Have you seen Michael?” Christy asked Andrea.

  “Yeah, there he is,” she said, pointing to the very back row. “He asked me to give you this.” She handed Christy a note, which she promptly opened.

  Can I take you, Ali, Renata, and her family out for a graduation lunch? Michael

  Christy looked up, caught Michael’s eye, and smiled, pointing to the note, nodding her head.

  He gave her a wave. God, he looks haggard, Christy thought sadly. Not the invincible man I married.

  Christy told Andrea she’d better get going. She was the mistress of ceremonies, and they were about to start. All the women at the dais were miked, and the parents would have to endure speeches from every one of them before their girls would get their fifth-grade diplomas.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Greer,” Christy said after the headmistress had given her speech. “Now I’d like to introduce the woman you’ve all been waiting to hear from. I could spend an hour regaling you with the many awards and accolades this amazing woman has earned, from Olympic gold medals, to number-one rankings on the WTA Tour to championships at Wimbledon, Australia, France, and the U.S. Open. But let’s not get bogged down in the details. Everyone knows her as one of the most accomplished tennis players in the world. Here today, speaking in honor of the fifth-grade Colby g
raduates, I present to you…LaShaun Mason.

  The girls applauded enthusiastically and then gave LaShaun a spontaneous standing ovation.

  When the girls sat back down, LaShaun spoke. “Thank you, fifth-grade Colby graduates, Christy Hayes, and Brownie Rich for having me here today. As I look at all of you sitting in this beautiful room, in your lovely dresses, having been given every advantage life has to offer, I envy you. But I also worry for your futures. Why, you ask? Why worry about what will become of young women who come from the best families, who live in the most magnificent homes, who study at the top private school in Manhattan? I worry for you because, perhaps, you have been given too much too soon.

  “When I was your age, my family was living in a drug-and gang-infested section of Detroit. I practiced my tennis on public courts in a neighborhood where drive-by shootings were common. I was striving for something better. By the time I was eleven years old, as many of you are today, I’d been playing tennis for six years. And I believed with all my heart that the game was my family’s ticket to a better life. I was hungry, and that hunger fueled my drive to become the winning player that I eventually became.

  “For years and years, my father pushed me. He insisted that I become the best that I could possibly be. I was the great hope for my family. It was an awesome responsibility to have. Can you imagine what it would be like, at your age, to know that your success was your family’s only chance for a better life? I took my obligation to heart. I knew there was no one to rescue us if I failed. It was win and live the good life, or lose and stay in one of the most dangerous communities in America. If it hadn’t felt like life or death, I don’t know if I would have been driven to succeed the way I was.

 

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