This Life: A Novel (14 page)

Chapter Twenty

June 3

New York
,
New York

Blake arrived a few
minutes early at 30 Rockefeller Plaza with Antonio, her stomach fluttery with
nervousness. Until she’d filmed the promotional ads for
The Takeover
,
her only experience with filming was more than a decade ago, when she’d done
the perfume commercials. This reality show was a much more complex job. Instead
of a few hours of rehearsal and filming to produce sixty seconds of
advertising, this job meant several full-time days each week to produce each
one-hour episode.

“I hope I’m ready for
this,” she thought aloud.

“You’ll be great,”
Antonio reassured her. “The producers hired you for good reasons. You’re a rare
combination of business savvy and star quality. All you’ve got to do is be
yourself.”

She smiled thanks at
him as a flustered-looking young woman trotted toward them. “Ms. Bertrand? I’m
Olivia, I’ve been assigned to do your makeup. We’d better get started. Filming
starts in an hour.”

Olivia led Blake and
Antonio into a dressing room, where she kept dabbing foundation, blush, eye shadow,
and so forth on Blake’s face and then shining a stage light on her to judge the
results. Antonio entertained himself by reading a detective novel. Blake wished
she could read the news on her BlackBerry, but Olivia needed Blake to keep her
head up.

A few minutes before
10
A
.
M
.
,, Olivia set Blake free
to join the cast and crew. What had been a bare stage when Blake arrived was
now furnished like the den of a British mansion. The lights, microphones, and
cameras were set up and preproduction tests were in progress.

Vanessa Reeves and
Jerome Harper, the executive producers, noticed Blake’s stage entrance. Jerome
spoke to a woman whose back was turned to the door Blake and Antonio had just
come from, and brought the woman to meet her. Blake thought the woman looked
familiar, but she couldn’t remember who she was.

“Ms. Bertrand, have you
ever met Joy Vardash? She’ll be the master of ceremonies for
The Takeover
.”
Vanessa introduced Blake and the young woman.

“No, we haven’t met
before, but I’m glad to collaborate with a fellow businesswoman  who’s made her
mark in the fashion business on this project.” Blake smiled and nodded to Joy,
who smiled back and complimented Blake on her stunning pinstriped Chanel
business suit.

“Joy will introduce the
concept to the audience first, then bring you onstage and invite you to say a
few words about yourself. So you might want to be thinking of a short biography
to share with viewers,” Jerome advised. “After that, she’ll call the
contestants onstage one at a time, and each of them will tell you—and viewers—a
little about themselves.”

“I wish someone had
warned me about the bio a few days ago,” Blake muttered. “Nice to meet you, Joy,
but I’ve got some fast thinking to do.”

“So have I. Reality TV
doesn’t have a script.” Joy grinned. “I’ll see you again in a few minutes with
the cameras rolling, Blake.”

Blake moved to the far
end of the stage, away from everyone else except Antonio, and brainstormed
aloud what she could say about herself: “I’m thirty-four, divorced, self-made
businesswoman…”

“This isn’t a dating
show.” Antonio lowered his Ray-Bans and grinned. “Your age and marital status
don’t matter. Just give your business credentials.”

“Antonio, you’re a
lifesaver.”

“Only if someone under
my protection is threatened, but you’re welcome.” He slid the Ray-Bans back
into place.

“Right. So. After I
graduated from high school, I worked as a model for a few years, because I knew
I could make a lot of money fast. I used that money to buy and renovate
important properties—”

“Don’t forget the
handsome actor husband who brought in your first celebrity customers,” said a
voice Blake recognized instantly and hated with unspeakable passion.

While she’d been
meeting Joy, Blake’s back had been turned to the rows of seats where the
audience would sit. Ushers had quickly and efficiently led the spectators into
the theater, and now that Blake turned around, she faced a packed house. In the
very front row was the owner of the only voice in the world that made her skin
crawl.

“Goddammit, Lang, you
can’t keep following me around wherever I go. Remember the restraining order?”
Blake looked around for NBC’s security personnel. “Security!”

His mouth turned down
in misery, the senior security guard shuffled over to talk to Blake. “Nothing
we can do, Ms. Bertrand. Judge granted an exception to the restraining order
for the duration of filming of this show, so he can attend tapings and other
related events.”

Blake felt her jaw
drop, and for a moment words failed her. Finally she managed a weak, “Why?”

Vanessa clapped her
hands for everyone’s attention. “Places, everyone! Filming starts in sixty
seconds!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll
find out soon,” Lang called after Blake as she moved to wait in the wings for Joy
to call her onto the set.

She forced herself to
look anywhere but at Lang, while Joy explained that twelve contestants would be
mentored personally by Blake as they completed an entrepreneurial task each
week, and each week the contestant whose performance was poorest would be
eliminated by Blake herself. Whoever won would receive a million dollars of
startup capital for a business of their own.

“Now let’s meet the
brilliant businesswoman who will be coaching our contestants on how to create
thriving businesses of their own. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together
for
the
Blake Bertrand!” said Joy, and she applauded along with the
audience as Blake strolled onto the set and took her seat at the head of a long
table. Holding a microphone toward Blake, Joy added, “Just in case anyone has
been living in a cave for the past few years, tell us a little about yourself,
Blake.”

Blake hadn’t finished
planning a bio, but she improvised one as best she could. After reciting her
experience as a model and using those earnings to buy her first properties for
development, she added simply, “I went on to become a millionaire. I can’t promise
these contestants that much success, but I guarantee I can help them make their
business dreams realities.”

“I’m sure they all look
forward to learning from you, so let’s meet the contestants,” said Joy. “First,
let me introduce you to Eve Womack. Eve, come and meet your mentor!”

Blake liked Eve
immediately. This woman had done her homework: she didn’t try to shake hands
with Blake, but instead waved at her as she chose a seat at the table. When Joy
asked Eve about herself, Blake liked her even more because of her bio.

“I used to be a
pediatric nurse, until a little boy battling leukemia changed my life. The
hospital I worked for was next to an elementary school, and little Julian could
see the playground from his room. Every night at bedtime he said his prayers,
and he’d finish by saying, ‘And I slide down the slide, amen.’ We tried to take
him out to play once, but he was weak from his treatments and had to keep an IV
going, and, well… I went back to school and studied engineering so I could
build pediatric recreation centers for kids like him.”

“You sound like you
already have good ideas, Eve,” said Blake, and she meant it. “What are you
hoping I can teach you?”

“How to sell my vision,
especially to men. When they reject my proposals, I always wonder if one reason
is because I’m a woman and engineering is still a man’s field,” Eve answered in
a calm, matter-of-fact voice.

She’s not on a
self-pity trip. Good.
Blake smiled at Eve and said, “Well, welcome, Eve. I’ll
do all I can to help you.”
And yes, I know a thing or two about competing in
businesses dominated by men.

One by one Joy introduced
the other contestants, until finally she said, “Our twelfth and final
contestant may already be familiar to you for her popular movie roles. Gabby
Truitt, come and meet your mentor!”

Blake was troubled by
the name Gabby even before its owner sauntered onto the set.

“Hi, all, I’m Gabby
Truitt,” she grinned, shifting her body from side to side.  “I
sooo
want
to open my own production company, and this would be such an
awesome
chance to learn and grow.” 

When she recognized the
blonde hair and waifish face and build, she understood what Lang had done.
Twelve
weeks of seeing you and your girlfriend four days per week, eh, Lang? It doesn’t
bother me to see her. As for you, one wrong move and you’ll still go to jail.

“Welcome,” Blake said
to Gabby, through clenched teeth.  Blake thought she could laugh or cry.

Blake smiled widely at
the contestants and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Now let me tell you
about your first challenge. This week you’re going to create a mission
statement and a business slogan…”

Chapter Twenty-One

June 3

New York
,
New York

Filming the
introduction of the cast and contestants went well, but it was almost
2
P
.
M
.
when they finally stopped for lunch. When they reconvened,
Blake was scheduled to conduct her first two private mentoring sessions. The
producers had randomly chosen the order in which she’d mentor the contestants.
Her first two appointments were with Ray Fisher, an African American with an
interest in eco-friendly landscaping, and with Gabby Truitt, who claimed an
interest in starting her own film production company.

“I’ll call a taxi,”
Antonio said to Blake as they emerged from the studio into bright summer
sunlight that made her envy him his Ray-Bans. “Where do you want to go for
lunch?”

“This is
New York
. You can’t walk two
blocks without meeting up with a street food vendor. And I’m starving. I’ll eat
anything that isn’t roadkill.”

They’d just about
walked two blocks, and saw a hot dog cart ahead on the next corner, when
Antonio sighed. Blake flashed a worried look at him. “What in the world is
wrong?”

“Your friend is back,”
he muttered, and turned around to face Brett Skeet.

Brett had been hurrying
to catch up with them, and he had to come to a sudden stop to avoid colliding
with the burly bodyguard. “Whoa. Uh, hi, Blake.”

“Hi, Brett. Good-bye,
Brett.” Blake continued toward the hot dog cart.

“Wait, I really need to
talk to you, Blake.”

She heard a thump and a
grunt, and turned around again. Brett must have tried to dodge Antonio, because
now he was doubled over and clutching his stomach, wide-eyed with pain. Antonio
stood with fists ready, and curious onlookers were gathering.

“This is turning out to
be the most fucked-up day I’ve had in months.” Blake waved at Antonio to relax.
“What the hell do you want, Brett?”

“Cha,” gasped Brett,
finally able to breathe again.

“Say again?” Blake’s
stomach growled, of the opinion the hot dog cart was much more important than
anything Brett Skeet might want to say.

“A job.” Brett touched
his fingertips to his punched gut and winced. “Jesus, bro, you sure you hit me
hard enough?”

“I could do it again if
you want,” Antonio offered.

“Look up sarcasm in the
dictionary, wordsmith.” Brett flinched as Antonio raised one hand…and scratched
his chin.

Blake bit back a laugh
and asked,
“Why are you
asking
me
for a job? Haven’t you messed up my business enough?”

“I quit my real estate
job to be with
you
and hoped we could work together on something.” Brett
jammed his hands in his slacks pockets, not looking at Blake or Antonio. “I’ve
tried to find something here, but no luck. Please, Blake. I heard you’re doing
this television thing. Don’t they always need extras and stuff like that?”

“You screwed up. Your
messiness stalled my Wishman project. How do I know you won’t do the same thing
again?”

“Let me show you. I’ll
keep my distance from you. I promise. I just really need a way to get enough
money to go back to
Miami
and pay some of my debt there.”

Antonio had lowered his
Ray-Bans and was staring at her with arched eyebrows. By now Blake could
practically read his mind: “True or not, he’s a punk,” Antonio would be
thinking, “and you shouldn’t let him get close to you again.”

Blake had learned early
to keep her enemies close. She could keep an eye on Brett, she reasoned to
herself. He knew a lot about her dealings in their short time together. She
didn’t want another Sherry wandering the streets. She shifted her footing so
that she couldn’t see Antonio’s arched eyebrows anymore.

Then she said, “Come
on, I’ll buy you a hot dog. When we go back in the studio, I’ll talk to the
producers about giving you a job if there’s one available.”

#

Scheduling conflicts
had repeatedly thwarted Blake from meeting with her old friend Robin Love at
lunchtime, so Blake had finally made a dinner date with Robin instead. Her
mentoring sessions ran longer than planned, making her glad she’d reserved a
table for
9
P
.
M
.
, significantly later
than she usually ate her last meal of the day.

It was such a pleasant
evening that Blake decided to walk to the restaurant. She’d showered the Lang
and Brett cooties off and changed into a cute Gucci black lacquered lace shift
dress with square-buckled belt, and black thong sandals. At
eight o’clock
she set out with Suki
for DB Bistro Moderne, a French-American bistro on
West Forty-fourth Street
.

Robin arrived at the
same time Blake and Suki did, and their table was waiting. So was the appetizer
of pâté en croûte that Blake had preordered, knowing that she, at least, would
be starving by then. A waiter with an authentic French accent took their orders
immediately, while they snacked. Blake opted for the Hanger Steak, Robin the
Crystal Valley Chicken Breast, and Suki ordered the DB Burger.

“A burger? Really?”
Robin grinned at Suki as soon as the waiter left to give their order to the
chef. “In a French restaurant, you don’t want to be adventurous?”

“I’m part Japanese and
part Anglo-Saxon,” intoned Suki. “I know exactly nothing about French food.”

Blake and Robin
laughed. “Girl, one of us better start talking,” Blake teased Robin. “We’ve
only got about fifteen years of catching up to do!”

Robin shook her head,
and Blake saw a wistfulness on her friend’s face that she’d never seen there
before. “No, Blake, you only need to catch up with me. You’ve never stopped
being in the news. Just, you shared the spotlight with Lang for a long time.”
She paused to sip some of her water before adding, “I never liked him.”

“When all the other
models we hung around with told me to give him a chance, you agreed with them!”

“If a man offers to buy
you food, you say yes. That’s all I meant. He was such a jerk, though. You
never should have started sleeping with him.” Robin shook her head again.

“I wish you’d said all
that back then. You could have saved me ten years of misery.”

“Would you have
listened?”

Blake thought about
that, then said, “No. I guess not. He was so romantic, when he wasn’t being a
jerk.” She leaned closer to Robin. “But what about you? Why did you stop
modeling, and what have you been doing since you quit?”

“I didn’t quit. Our
agency stopped calling me with jobs. That’s the way it is, you know. A few
girls, like you, become worldwide sensations. Most, like me, never rise from
obscurity.” Robin helped herself to some more pâté, while Blake’s heart hurt
for her.

“I’m so sorry. That isn’t
fair at all. You were beautiful then. Still are.”

“Don’t worry, Blake. I
moved on. Took me a while to find my niche, but I got there. Now I’m the
spokeswoman for a charitable organization that builds and supplies elementary
schools in western
Africa
.”

Blake needed to think
about that, too, before speaking. Robin had never expressed any interest in
children back in their modeling days. The only thing African she was into were
the men. “What got you interested in doing that?”

Now that odd
wistfulness settled into Robin’s facial features again. “Just something to do
that is actually positive. I’m done with all the man drama, and being broke. I
was homeless just two years ago, Blake.”

Dropping her fork,
Blake stared at Robin through eyes filling with tears. “Oh, my God, Robin, that’s
terrible. I don’t know what to say, except I’m so very sorry.”

Robin reached across
the table and took Blake’s hand, and Blake gave Robin’s a squeeze.
Germs be
damned this time
, Blake thought, and wondered if she could get up and give
her friend a fierce hug without making a scene.

“It made me stronger,
and I vowed that won’t happen to me again no matter what I need to do.” Robin
managed a smile. “You don’t know this, but you have always been an inspiration
to me. I missed
us
.”

“Me, too,” Blake said,
her lips forming a smile. She hadn’t seen Robin in years, but listening to
Robin it was like the absence hurt her more than she could imagine.

Robin stayed silent, as
if in her own private thoughts, before she finally spoke. “I hear you’re going
to be starting a new organization called Mentors & Protégés. To tell the
truth, hearing that inspired me to make sure our paths crossed. You’re a
business genius, and my charity never has enough money for all the needs it’s
trying to meet. So, I was hoping…”

“If you need anything,
I’m here for you now!” Blake knew she was a bit loud because of her excitement
for Robin, and didn’t care that a few heads turned at nearby tables.

Robin’s eyes watered.

“Donations, advertising,
you name it. And, Robin?”

“Blake?”

“I don’t care what
inspired you. I’m glad to have your friendship in my life again.”

#

June 4

New York
,
New York

Blake checked the time
on her BlackBerry when she finished her seventh mentoring session, which was
with Eve.
One
o’clock
in
the afternoon. She was on a pace to finish all the mentoring sessions by
lunchtime Friday, when she was scheduled to preside over the first board of
directors meeting for Mentors & Protégés.

“Ready for me to call
for a taxi?” Antonio asked.

“I sure am. Do you like
Greek food? I’ve got a craving for a gyro wrap.” Blake stood and stretched out
her back, stiff from five hours of sitting.

“Who doesn’t like a
good gyro wrap?” Antonio grinned. “Listen, I need to run to the men’s room
before we catch the cab. Can I get you to stay in here and lock the door until
I come back?”

Blake folded her arms
across her chest in pretend consternation. “I don’t know about that. How will I
know it’s you?”

“I’ll recite the
correct secret code.”

“And what’s that?”

He took off his Ray-Bans
and sucked thoughtfully on one earpiece for a bit before answering, “The black
bird flies backwards.”

“Get out of here, you
madman.” Blake grinned at Antonio and opened the door for him.

She shut the door and
was shaking her head, about to turn the lock, when there was a knock on the
door. As she swung it open again she asked, “What did you do, forget your dick?”

“I hope not,” said
Brett, and grinned at her.

“Oh, shit.” Blake tried
to slam the door and lock it, but Brett caught the door and held it open about
an inch while she pushed against him.

“Come on, Blake, I’m
not going to hurt you.” Brett grunted with the effort of keeping the door ajar
against Blake’s weight. “I just wanted to thank you for getting me a job, that’s
all.”

“Well, you’re welcome,
but you’d better go before Antonio gets back here.”

“I’ll be long gone,
believe me, but I also wanted to ask if I can take you out to dinner sometime
soon, to show my appreciation. Nothing fancy, they don’t pay errand-runners
well enough for five-star restaurants.” Brett smiled at her through the one
inch between the door and its frame. “Say you’ll think about it, at least.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He let the door shut,
and Blake locked it.

When Antonio rapped his knuckles on the door and said “The
black bird flies backwards,” Blake was still staring at the door, wondering
what the hell to think of Brett Skeet.