Your Big Break (30 page)

“That's beside the point! What if they ask—”

Jason shushes me as his mother returns. She seems to have rounded up half the wedding party. “This,” she announces, gesturing toward me, “is the girl who wrote
The Da Vinci Code
.”

“You're a millionaire!” someone exclaims.

“I didn't write it. I just sold it,” I say meekly.

“Do you have any other notable clients?” someone—the best man, I think—asks.

“She's handling a celebrity novel right now,” Jason pipes up. “It's very exciting. You wanna tell them about it, honey?” He squeezes my shoulders.

But everyone's staring at me expectantly, so I take a deep breath and blurt out the first name that comes to mind. “John Tesh.”

“
John Tesh
is writing a novel?” Jason's mother exclaims. Judging by the look on her face, I might as well have just said Bigfoot's publishing his memoirs. “What's the title?” she asks.

“
I've Got the Music in Me,
” I fib.

“Is it a musical book?”

“No. It's a thriller,” I start.
Think, Dani, think!

“Like
Da Vinci
?”

“Not exactly. Tesh's work is a little . . . edgier. His narrator's a crime-fighting saxophone player who winds up investigating the murder of a . . . a homeless . . .”
Prostitute? Exotic dancer? It all sounds so clichéd
. “Drag queen,” I finish.

Someone—Jason, I believe—bursts out laughing.

Damn. I should have gone with prostitute
.

Fortunately, the bride and groom pick this moment to make their grand entrance.

I've never been so thrilled to see any two people in my entire life.

Before long, it's time to cut the cake. The attention is off me as everyone focuses on the bride and groom. I stand away from the pack, watching the festivities from the sidelines. Jason is next to his brother, beaming. Finally, at long last, he has their approval. And he's lied to get it.
Why does he have to lie to feel loved?
I think of Garrett and the wedding that never was, all the plans we had that didn't materialize. We were supposed to be married this summer. For a moment, I feel overwhelmed with emotion.

I quickly talk myself out of it.

“Potential clients,” I mumble under my breath. Sure, Jason's brother and his new bride may be happy
now
—but in six months, they'll likely wind up in my office, seeking my services. All relationships end. I'm living proof of that.

We manage to make it through the rest of the reception without incident, although a few people do, incredibly, hit me up for John Tesh tickets. And the best man slips me a disk containing his unfinished screenplay,
Crapshoot
.

We've just said our good-byes and are leaving the reception area when Jason's mother, Catherine, taps me on the shoulder.

“
I've Got the Music in Me,
” she says. “When's it coming out?”

And here I thought I was home free. “We don't have a firm release date yet,” I lie.

“I was thinking.” Catherine eyes me thoughtfully, and I'm afraid she's about to blow my cover. “It really says something about John Tesh's life experiences that he's writing about drag queens.”

34

She'S Got Some Nerve

“He thinks I'm fat.”

“No, he doesn't,” I tell the overweight woman sitting across from me.

“He thinks I'm a beached whale.” She takes a drink of her Frappuccino.

“Kevin would never say a thing like that,” I say soothingly. I'm about to launch into my spiel:
Kevin still loves you, but he doesn't think you're right for each other. Kevin hopes you'll stay friends. Kevin wishes only the best for you.

But instead I say, “He's an ass.”

She stares at me in surprise.

“He thinks he can do better than you, thinks he can get laid by some nineteen-year-old
Playboy
Playmate of the Year. That's why he's dumping you. He wants to sleep around with younger women.”

“Can he?” she asks. Renée's lower lip starts trembling. “Can he get a
Playboy
Playmate?”

I snort. “No. Not even. He's not going to find anyone better than you.”

She buries her head in her hands. “Then why? Why dump me?”

“Because he's a moron.” I say. “Some men always think they can get more women, always think the next big thing is right around the corner.”

Renée squares her shoulders. “Screw him! I can sleep around, too!”

“Come on, Renée. Be honest. You don't want to do that.”

“You're right,” she sobs. “I don't. But I wish I could run into Kevin at his bar with some hot guy on my arm. That'd fix him!”

My eyes catch sight of the Red Sox pendant on her shirt.

“You don't know any single guys, do you, Dani? I don't want a boyfriend, just a guy who's willing to help me show up Kevin.”

“Hmmm,” I say. “As a matter of fact, I might.”

 
 
I'm typing out an e-mail message to Jason Dutwiler when I hear a knock on my door. I look up to see Erin Foster-Ellis standing in the entrance to my office.

“What do you want?” I ask, quickly minimizing the screen.

“I have another job for you, Danielle. I was hoping we could get started on it today.”

Is she kidding?
“You specifically requested that I no longer handle your business.”

She grins, not in a friendly way. “I've changed my mind.”

“You can't keep switching between me and Trey,” I say, feeling my anger swell. “You're going to have to pick a communications specialist and stick with them.”
And don't pick me, or you'll be sorry.

“I've spoken with Craig McAllister. He approved the switch.”

Thanks, Craig.
“Fine. What's the job?”

Erin strolls into my office and sits down. “I need you to convince Brady that we should get back together.”

I nearly fall out of my chair. “Let me get this straight,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “You want
me
to reunite you and Brady?”

She nods.

“Why?”

“That's none of your business,” she begins, “but I'll tell you this much—I've realized that what Brady needs is a strong, motivated woman who will set him back on the right track. He needs someone like me in his life.”

“As much as I'd love to help you,” I say, mock-sweetly, “I can't.” I give her a cold smile. “We don't do fix-ups, only breakups.”

“Oh, you'll do it. I'm not giving you a choice in the matter.”

She's got some nerve.
I keep my tone even. “I'm not obligated to take on cases I don't want. Ask Craig; he's the boss, and he'll tell you the same thing.”

Erin looks me squarely in the eyes. “Maybe you don't understand, Danielle. If you don't do this for me, I'll have you fired.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, please! Like you have that kind of power.”

“I do. You're forgetting something. You lied to me—a client! And I paid you for a service that you did not deliver.”

“I delivered.” I stare at her defiantly. I'm not backing down.

“That's not how I see it. Look at the facts. You did not pick up all of my personal items from Brady's apartment, and you did not break things off with him in person. Those were the conditions that we agreed upon, and you violated them. And you did it all because you were hoping to land a date with Brady. You were motivated by lust, and you put the name of Your Big Break Inc. on the line. I don't think your boss will look too favorably on that.”

When she puts it that way
—
when she adds it all together
—
she makes me sound horrible.

“You're oversimplifying,” I argue. “When I explain everything to Craig, he'll understand.” Even to my own ears, this sounds weak.
There's a good chance I
will
get fired!

“
Will
he? Because you don't look so sure.”

I'm not. “Things with Brady were complicated.” I struggle to explain. “I did the best I could under difficult circumstances. If you hadn't decided to ditch him two weeks after his father died, it might have been different.”

“That's not your call. Your company has a rule about being an
impartial adviser
. And there's another policy about not getting personally involved. You broke both of those. I have half a mind to report you to the Better Business Bureau for false advertising.”

She's got me. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. There's nothing I can say, no point I can argue. Craig's a stickler for our five rules, and I'm in total violation of all of them.

“All right. I'll do it.” I hope my voice doesn't sound as shaky as it feels.

“I suspected you would.”

I feel sick.
How can this be happening?
Brady has completely avoided me since our disastrous dinner two weeks ago. Now I've got to approach him and convince him to get back together with Erin? I've got to bite my tongue, suppress my feelings once again. I've got to pretend I don't care about him.

“Here's what you're going to do,” Erin says. “The easiest way for Brady to forgive me is if he thinks our breakup was all one giant misunderstanding.”

“Brady's not an idiot. He'll never believe that.”

“He will when you confess that you orchestrated the whole thing. You'll tell him you wrote him that breakup letter without my knowledge.”

She's insane.
“There's no way Brady will buy a stupid story like that.”

“You're also going to tell Brady that you saw him at a poetry reading, and you thought he was cute, and you moved in for the kill, using your work skills to your own pathetic advantage.”

I shake my head. “I don't think I can—”

“You can. Just think about how much you've got on the line. That will motivate you.”She's got me trapped. I can't see a way out of this except to do what she wants.

“Now, for the time frame.” Erin reaches into her Prada satchel purse and produces two tickets. “There's a new play opening in a couple of weeks called
Mélange
. I promised a friend I'd be there; I'd like for Brady to go, too.” She sets one of the tickets down on the corner of my desk. “Make sure that he gets this.”

“I'll give it to him. I can't guarantee he'll show up.”

“It's nearly three weeks until the play. That's more than enough time for you to spin a story and convince him to come back to me.” She rises to leave. “I'd better find Brady beside me on opening night or I'm going straight to Craig McAllister. Got it?”

“Yes,” I mumble. I pick up the ticket and shove it into my purse.

“Danielle,” Erin adds as she walks toward the door. “Even though he's only a schoolteacher now”—she slings her Prada purse over one shoulder—“he's still way out of your league.”

I want to hit her back with some clever line, some well-timed insult.

But I say nothing.

She gives me a wave as she walks out the door.

If I follow Erin's demands and tell Brady this ludicrous story, how do I know she won't go to Craig
anyway
? She's made her contempt for me clear. Why not use this opportunity to zing me not once but twice? And even if Erin does keep her end of the bargain, what's to stop her from blackmailing me again in the future?

There's really only one way to play this.

For once in my life, I'm going to be honest.

I'm going to go to Craig and tell him everything; I'm going to take responsibility for my actions. He might fire me. But that's a chance I'll have to take. And after I've confessed to Craig, I'll call Brady. I'll tell him that Erin wants to get back together. I'll offer up the play ticket and let him decide whether or not he wants to be with her. I've been meddling for long enough. It's time to butt out and let people make their own decisions.

 
 
Craig takes the news surprisingly well.

He sits across from me for twenty minutes, hands folded in his lap, listening intently while I spill the whole story. I leave nothing out: I start with the poetry workshop and move on to the seventy-five-dollar discount I gave Erin. I tell him about my e-mails to Brady, about our coffee date, about the picnic in the public gardens and the romantic dinner at his house. I tell him how I sent the anonymous letter and how I advised Brady to return Erin's personal items via FedEx. Red-faced, I explain how Erin found me and Brady together, and how now she's blackmailing me in an effort to reunite with him.

The only thing I skip over is the part about me being in my bra when Erin showed up at Brady's apartment. Some things are just too personal.

Craig nods and smiles as I go along. He's calm, attentive, interested in my plight.

When I finally finish talking, he sighs deeply and looks at me for a long time. “I've been warning you to stop ignoring our five rules, particularly the cardinal rule: Do
not
get personally involved,” he begins. “And it seems you've given me promise after empty promise. You've sworn up and down that you weren't letting personal feelings get in the way of common business sense. I'm a reasonable man, I'm a patient man, but you leave me no choice. Effective immediately, Amanda will be taking over your clients.”

I don't say anything. My eyes blink rapidly, trying to ward off tears. I've never been fired from a job before. I don't know what comes next.
Do I pack up my office, or does Craig have someone do that for me? Does he call security to escort me out of the building? Will I get my last paycheck? Will he write me a good letter of reference? Will I get to keep my health benefits?