“I wouldn’t exactly go that far.”
“Hasn’t she been getting my deliveries?”
“You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it-”
“Horse? How about
horse’s ass
! Because that is what I am going to look like if you keep doing such a bang-up job of making the Palm Club look bad.”
“Murray-”
“You said you’d take care of it!”
“It’s still salvageable.”
As Murray Goldstein cussed him out, Stephan glanced at the TV screen and watched with revulsion while Theo calculated the size of Lucy’s body parts with a tape measure.
Goldstein’s voice became hushed. “You disrespect me,” he said.
How was Stephan supposed to know that Lucy Cunningham would turn out to be his own personal big, fat walking Friday the thirteenth? A cow of bad karma grazing on the field of his life?
“I was there for you when you needed me, Sherrod, and this is how you treat me? Shame on you. You will pay the price for this disrespect, you lowlife piece of-”
Stephan hung up on Murray. With shaking hands he began to unwrap the Snickers bar. He shoved it in his mouth, all the while crying like a baby.
“Ohmigod! Mr. Sherrod! Are you all right?” Veronica King stood in his doorway, staring at him.
Stephan stopped chewing and shoved the candy in his desk drawer. He swallowed. “Allergies,” he said.
Veronica didn’t seem convinced. She scowled at him. “You look like death warmed over, Mr. Sherrod.”
Stephan wiped his mouth and smacked his hand on his desk. “Since when do you get in this early? And what are you looking at, you nosy little bitch? Close my door!”
If he didn’t find a way to stop Lucy Cunningham, he’d look like death, all right, the cold, hard, bloated, dead-weight-at-the-bottom-of-the-ocean kind of death.
The kind Murray Goldstein was rumored to prefer.
Chapter 7
June
Journal Entry June 4
Breakfast: 2/4
c Kashi; 1 c skim milk; 1
c
blueberries; decaf
Lunch: 3
oz grilled tuna; 1 c steamed zucchini; 1 whole wheat roll; 1 tbsp light butter
Dinner: 3
oz roasted lean pork; 1/2 large baked sweet potato; 2 c salad and raw veggies; 2 tbsp oil and vinegar
Snack: 1 c
light yogurt; 1 apple
Affirmation for Today:
If I ever go out in public wearing spandex shorts, life as we know it will continue, and the time-space continuum will remain intact. Unless they happen to be a neon color. Then the fabric of the universe could be ripped asunder. Perhaps I should stick with basic black.
“Anybody home?”
Stephan entered Lucy’s office with Veronica in tow, and the manic look on his face had Lucy instantly on alert. Veronica rolled her eyes as she sat down in one of the chairs near Lucy’s desk and propped the notebook on a knee. Stephan sat next to her.
“What’s up?” Lucy asked.
“Well, I figured since the party was coming up, we needed to discuss our plan of attack.”
Lucy squinted. “Attack?”
“Well, yes. I think we need to introduce some fresh elements into the Palm Club campaign, maybe change direction here and there, and the party is just the place to do it.”
Lucy studied her boss, noting that Stephan’s eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks feverish. She slid her eyes over to Veronica, who made a fish face.
Lucy cleared her throat, trying not to laugh. “Actually, Stephan, the halfway celebration party is the fresh element.” She spoke with all the patience she could muster. “The NBC affiliate is on board for an evening news feature, and the
Herald
is sending a Style reporter. Our guest list is top-shelf. And I’m not sure the Mandarin Oriental Hotel is the ideal setting for any kind of sudden change in direction or
attack
, since there’s a lot of expensive, breakable stuff sitting around in there.”
Stephan’s eyebrows met in a deep vee of anger. His mouth went rigid. “I don’t appreciate your snide sarcasm, Lucy. Regardless of your faux-celebrity status, you are still my employee, and I expect you to remember it.”
Lucy knew she was straddling a fine line here. She’d been dealing with Stephan’s preposterous bullshit for far too long, but she was six months away from walking out of here, money in hand. It would be six months in hell if she didn’t stand her ground.
“I apologize for my sarcasm, but my concern is that you don’t respect my ability to handle this campaign. It seems that you’re either completely disinterested in what I’m doing or trying to sabotage my efforts, and I never know which it’s going to be day-to-day.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucy.”
She laughed. She didn’t feel ridiculous. She felt sure of herself, competent, and strong. She stood up behind her desk.
“Have you seen the latest numbers, Stephan?”
“What numbers?”
“The media report. The publicity summary. The ratings for our
WakeUp Miami
appearances. The sales figures from Ramona Cortez. Web site hits. Have you looked at any of it?”
“Of course I have.”
Lucy nodded. “Then you know that I have everything under control.”
Stephan looked up at her from his chair, a puzzled expression on his face. “Web site? You mean the Palm Club Web site?”
Veronica made another fish face, then snapped her gum.
“Yes, and our TheoandLucy.net site. It went live two months ago.”
“I never gave permission for that! Maria kept hounding me and I told her no!” Stephan shot up from the chair. “Don’t I have control of this agency anymore? Whose name is on the fucking door outside this place, tell me that? Does it say ‘Sherrod amp; Cunningham’?” He sounded out of breath. “Does it?”
Lucy could barely contain her disbelief. She watched Veronica slink out of her seat and move toward the door, her eyes wide. “Actually, Stephan,” Lucy said calmly, “the name Thorns is on that door, and Sarah would be ashamed at what you’re doing to her company.”
Stephan snorted. “No, she’d be ashamed of you, Lucy, prancing around this town like you were
the shit
, when you’re nothing but an overweight hick chick with a painfully obvious crush on her pretty-boy trainer. Do you know how ridiculous you look on TV with him? Do you have any idea what a joke you’re making of yourself? People all over town are talking about you, how you’ll never make it, how the Redmond gigolo is playing you like a harp, how he’s using you for the money.”
Lucy went numb from her scalp to her big toes. She had to ignore Stephan. She could not allow him to get under her skin like this. Not now. Not when she was doing so well. Not when Theo had shown her it was more than just a lopsided crusli-that it was real and true and the best thing that ever happened to her.
Not after she’d had
sex
with him. Five times!
He would never do that to her.
Stephan started for the door, then turned. “I’m going to be out of town for a couple weeks. Do me a favor and try to show up at the party wearing something decent.”
His eyes traveled up and down Lucy’s body and she felt like she was going to be sick. “I hear you can get formal wear at Wal-Mart nowadays. You can get anything at Wal-Mart.”
Stephan left. Veronica fell back against the door-jamb with her mouth hanging open. Lucy stood behind her desk breathing like she’d just run a few miles.
The two women stayed like that for a long, silent moment. Then Veronica returned to her seat and flopped down in it. Lucy fell into her own chair.
“OK,” Lucy said. “He’s officially fucking nuts.”
“You have no idea,” Veronica whispered. “Wait till I tell you about-”
There was a knock on Lucy’s open door. Maria and Barry stood in the hallway looking worried.
“Come on in and shut the door.” Lucy gestured for hem to hurry in. Maria sat next to Veronica, and Barry eaned against the window frame, arms crossed over us chest.
“Strange things are afoot at the Circle K,” Barry iaid. “I think he’s completely lost it.”
Maria looked near tears. “He’s really starting to scare me. He just screamed at me about the Web site when I’ve been sending him memos about it for months! I don’t think he’s even remotely connected to reality these days.”
“He called me a bitch a couple weeks ago,” Veron-ca said, snapping her gum. “I swear to God I heard him crying in his office, so I look in and he says, Go away, you nosy bitch,‘ or something. I couldn’t believe it!”
Barry straighted and moved to Lucy’s desk. “I’ve been wooing the Lucky Chef gourmet grocery chain for eight months now, right? Well, I went in there to tell him they’re interested in my meals-to-go idea and he said he didn’t have time to discuss it.”
“Maybe Stephan’s doing drugs,” Maria said. “That would explain a few things.”
The thought had crossed Lucy’s mind.
“I’ve never seen him like this, not even when Sarah died,” Veronica said.
Maria gripped the armrests so hard her knuckles went white. “Oh my God! I just had the worst thought! You don’t think Stephan
killed
her, do you?”
Everyone went still.
“She died from a reaction to anesthesia,” Lucy said quietly.
Barry patted Maria’s shoulder. “So unless Stephan was in the operating room during the tummy tuck, I sincerely doubt he had anything to do with Sarah’s death.”
“Fine. But he’s crazy. That’s all I’m saying-making one totally loco decision after the next.”
“Especially since Lucy landed the Palm Club account,” Barry said.
Lucy fiddled with the cuff of her jacket, listening, thinking about the ill-timed Eddie application, the erratic behavior, the bizarre phone conversation about threats and the IRS, the crying, the lack of focus… If he were a woman, she’d be thinking menopause.
Barry smiled at her. “Hey, Lucy. I only ask one thing-when you get rich and go out on your own, please don’t forget to take us with you!” That was her plan exactly.
“No, no, no, no, no! That looks like a grandma dress on you and I won’t let you to go out in public lookin‘ like nobody’s grandma! Especially not on your special night!”
Lucy was getting a headache. It had turned out that shopping for formal wear with Gia was hard work and involved a huge investment of human resources. There were no fewer than four saleswomen fawning over them at that very moment.
“Go back and try the light blue one on again.”
Lucy sighed in resignation and was about to return to the dressing room when a saleswoman arrived with another dress draped over her arm. It was a champagne color, with a sheer plunge neckline and cap sleeves constructed of a dainty nylon mesh. It looked like it weighed about an ounce and would reveal every bump and roll on the surface of Lucy’s body.
“I don’t have a good feeling about that one.”
The saleswomen looked despondent. “Would you at least try? I’ve seen it on other customers and it drapes nicely. It could be quite flattering on you.”
“Let me see that.” Gia held out her hand and examined the dress. “Yeah, OK, I thought so. This is an Olorio. I wore this for his Paris spring show. It felt good on.” Gia smiled at the saleswoman, then looked at Lucy. “So you’ll try it for me, or what?”
“There’s just one thing.” The saleswoman tilted her head and smiled at Lucy. “It’s a little over your budget.” Lucy held up the dress and looked at the tag. Yes, it cost more than the GNP of some countries and was also a size 10, two good reasons it wouldn’t be leaving here with
her
.
Gia waved her hand and made a little dismissive huff. “Don’t worry about the money. I’ll call Isaac and tell him I need it. He’ll work it out with the shopkeeper.”
Lucy held the dress and stared. Since she began this makeover gig seven months ago, she had found herself in a situation every now and then that seemed just downright dreamlike, as if it were happening to someone else. This was one of them.
She was being catered to by a staff of saleswomen in a posh South Beach boutique, a
Vogue
cover girl acting as her personal fashion assistant, shopping for formal wear in a size 10 that she would wear to a black-tie dinner thrown in her honor.
“You forget how to move or something, girlie?” Lucy shook her head and entered the dressing room. A few minutes later, she emerged from behind the ornate partition to find Gia sprawled on the sofa laughing into her cell phone. Gia looked up, continued talking for a second, then looked up again, her mouth wide.
“Holy moley,
chica
!” she shrieked, then went back to the phone. “Danny, baby, I gotta go. Your sister needs me.” She snapped the phone shut and a torrent of Spanish words came tumbling out of her mouth, only a few of which Lucy understood. Gia stood up and nodded. “You look like a million-freakin‘-dollars.” “With the proper foundation garments, this dress will flow perfectly.” The saleswoman swiped a hand down the side of Lucy’s hip.
“A girdle?”
She laughed at Lucy. “No, dear. Just a strapless body smoother. Many ladies wear them for form-fitting dresses like this, and you’ll need it anyway so there is no bra visible.”
Gia crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. “You look hot. No questions about it.”
Lucy almost couldn’t look at herself. She began at her bare feet, moved up her legs to two inches above her knees, where the hemline hit, then up her thighs to the way she filled in the dress at the hips.
“Issac? It’s Gia. Are you in Cannes?”
While Lucy turned to look at her bottom in the mirror she half-listened to Gia on her cell phone. Theo seemed to appreciate that bottom. It was a good bottom. And it was now a size 10 bottom.
“I think we have a couple different body smoother styles in nude. I’ll see what we can do.” The saleswoman was gone, and Lucy stood by herself, alone with her reflection, as Gia talked in the background.