Alligators in the Trees (22 page)

Priscilla couldn’t help but laugh. “You told me if I didn’t get on the train tonight, you’d give me solid reasons why I should stay here in New York. So far, all you’ve done is pooh-poohed Florida. If there are really so many pitfalls to living in that state, maybe I should set my sights on California,” Priscilla said. She was teasing him, but by the look of horror on his face, it was evident Phil didn’t get it.

“California?
That’s way too far away!” he cried out. “Besides, the whole state is an earthquake waiting to happen.” Priscilla leaned back and wrapped her arms across her chest, fixing Philip with a look that said she was getting tired of this game.

“Done!” Caitlin announced, holding her hand out for her reward.

“Stay where I can see you,” Philip said, taking a five out of his wallet and handing it to her. She pressed a greasy kiss on his cheek and took off like a bullet for the nearest available game.

“What’s wrong with New York? Why would anyone want to leave the most exciting city in the world? Maybe you should start by telling me what’s making you want to leave, and then I can make a specific argument for staying, because honestly, I can’t imagine why you’d want to leave.”

Priscilla unwound her arms slowly, keeping her eyes trained on Philip as she considered her answer. She hardly knew this man, yet he seemed to have no qualms about prying into her private affairs.

“Personal reasons,” she said, taking a swig of her lukewarm beer. Philip fiddled with his mug, waltzing it in a circular motion, a small smile forming on his mouth.

“Personal reasons. I see. Well, if you’re going to leave me to guess, I’ll have to start with the obvious: escaping a failed romance? No? How about to care for an ailing relative? To fulfill a lifelong dream of becoming an aquatic dancer at
The Singing Springs
Underwater Gardens
? Okay, I give up.”

If Philip hadn’t been so surprisingly entertaining, Priscilla would’ve had her fill by now. Despite her better judgment, he was beginning to prove his point: she had absolutely no valid reason for choosing Florida, other than the fact that moving there bore equal weight with her other options. In theory, she could go anywhere, as no place really offered her any guarantee of success. But she also knew some sort of change was necessary. She had come to the end of the road as far as her current circumstances were concerned, and the only hope she could see of starting a new life would be relocating.

And since she had come to abhor virtually every aspect of her present situation, choosing the antithesis had the most allure. She would move from dark, dank and old to bright, sunny and new, leaving behind crude, rude and relentless in favor of casual, friendly and laid-back. So, the reason for her desire to flee New York stemmed from nothing more than the desire to leave a life devoid of contentment and direction. Anything other than the status quo had to be better.

“There’s absolutely nothing to keep me here,” she said simply.

“Oh come, now. If nothing else, there’s me. Why would you want to leave when you could witness first-hand the spectacular downfall of a once vital man,” Philip asked, his tone lighthearted and self-mocking despite the look of disillusionment in his eyes. “Surely that’s a compelling enough reason to stick around.”

“No offense, Phil, but that prospect doesn’t appeal to me. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I watched a man unravel.”

Philip, slightly stung by her words, sat back and regarded her for a moment. “All right, then—stay and watch a once brilliant man extract himself from the depths of failure,” he said hopefully.

Priscilla watched him through wary eyes, wondering if he had just said this for affect. “Can you do that?” she asked. His words were encouraging, a little thrilling even, and Priscilla observed the subtle change that came over Philip as she challenged him.

“I should be able to, when you think about it. I had to prove myself when I started out, so why should it be any different now?”

This argument, a completely novel thought for Philip, began to search for a permanent spot to take hold and grow. And grow it did, immediately, using Priscilla’s intrigued expression as the most effective form of fertilizer. For a prolonged moment, their eyes searched each other’s faces, looking for confirmation of this promise.

“You have a distinct disadvantage this time around. The powers that be have vilified you in the press. In the beginning, they thought you could do no wrong,” Priscilla pointed out, breaking their moment of communion.

“I’d gotten the impression you didn’t even know who I was,” Philip said, startled by Priscilla’s sudden grasp of his situation.

Priscilla smiled. “I didn’t know who you were until you brought up The Phoenix Tower. I had read all about you for years, but for some reason I hadn’t put your name and face together with the all the press, good or bad. I guess I never imagined a person of your caliber would frequent a hole like Frank’s. Anyway, I passed by the main library today and decided to review the
New York Times
articles written about you. I had no idea what a popular topic you and your work were. You must’ve been mentioned at least a hundred times in that paper alone.”

“Yep, I was on top of the world until a few months ago. I can’t believe it’s been less than a year since everything went to hell. Funny how fast things can change.” Priscilla nodded, knowing how true this was. “But getting back to what you just said—I may have the world against me now, but I also have dozens of successes to my credit, and most of them will survive this scandal and be remembered solely for their attributes, not merely because they were designed by me.”

“The trick would be to have them remembered
because
they were designed by you, without the association to The Phoenix,” Priscilla said.

“That would be the trick, all right,” Philip agreed, nodding his head somberly.

“But hey, the world has the collective attention span of a gnat. Martha Stewart stepped over her public humiliation and soared to greater heights. And look at Michael Vick—he’s a hero now. The public can be quick to crucify someone, but if you humble yourself and pay your debt, they’re also quick to forgive. If you bide your time and wait for the changing of the guard over at City Hall, I bet you can be one of the city’s premier architects again, and the collapse of The Phoenix will be long forgotten. In fact, as soon as they knock it down, it will start to fade from memory. All you need to do is grow a thicker skin and get back in there with all the movers and shakers,” Priscilla said.

She had become so caught up in her pep talk, she hardly recognized her own voice. She had never considered herself an optimist. Quite the opposite. Then again, Phil was probably the first person she had known personally who was honestly worthy of optimism. She may have seen him as a rather sad case initially, but she had glimpsed a spark of determination and authentic capability in his eyes that led her to believe he possessed the power to change the course of his future. It was the first time in her life she actually envied anyone.

Philip had listened to Priscilla’s words with a mixture of awe and skepticism. Though he had felt solid enough to fight the barbarism of public ridicule just moments earlier, he had a hard time picturing a scenario in which he was back in favor with the public at large. Still, it was remarkable that she saw him in such a light. That alone was sufficient to nourish his budding hope.

“I’m going to do it,” he said. “I’m going to live down this scandal and I’m going to aggressively try to rebuild my reputation. But I’m not going to wait for a better climate. I’m going to do it now, while this mess is still fresh in everyone’s mind.”

Priscilla was suitably impressed. “How exactly are you going to do that?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet. I’m going to have to do some serious soul searching, but I will do it. But only on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Priscilla asked, smelling a rat with a T-square.

“You’ve got to agree to stay here in New York to help me. I couldn’t possibly work my brain properly if I was worrying all the time about how you’re doing.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. And what help could I possibly be to you?” she asked, perturbed that he would try to guilt her into staying in a place she had no more use for, and vice versa.

“You’re my moral support, my only cheerleader,” he said.

“You’ve got Caitlin,” she reminded him.

“Caitlin gives me the blind devotion of a seven-year-old daughter, which is priceless, but it’s not quite the same as the unbiased support of an intelligent adult.”

“You know, Phil, part of me would like to oblige you, but I’ve got my own life to sort out. Right now I’m technically without home or job. As challenging as your situation is, I find my needs a tad more pressing.”

“So…if you had a home and a job, you’d consider sticking around while I brainstorm a way out of my shameful state of affairs?” Priscilla wouldn’t take the bait. “Stay here—we’ll get you a nice place and find you a good job. Heck, you can work for me. All I have is temporary help now, people who barely know my name. You can take over one of their jobs.” Priscilla leveled a stern look of reproach at him until he wiped the idiotically hopeful expression from his face.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she said, considering the case closed. A silent stalemate ensued until Caitlin reappeared looking for more funds.

“You already spent the five dollars I gave you?” Philip asked as he dug into his pocket for his wallet.

“Gallatica was the only game open, and I stink at it. But Spy Ring is free now and that’s my favorite.” Philip held up three ones and she snatched them from his hand.

“Make it last,” he called out as she wove through the tables. “How about we find a nice hotel for you to stay in for a couple of days, and you can forget about the work part? I’ll pay you a consultant’s fee just to listen to me while I think out loud,” Philip suggested, being careful to keep his enthusiasm down.

“Like I said, I’ll buy you a first class ticket to Florida, or anywhere else you want to go. But I’d really appreciate it if you would consider helping me out. I’m not used to asking for help, so I’m afraid I’ve been a little awkward about it.”

Priscilla exhaled heavily. Philip’s humility had moved her and she felt herself buckling under his pleas.

“All right. I’ll stay for three days—that’s it. But I won’t accept any pay,” she said.

“Okay, that’s fine, but I insist on paying for a hotel while you’re here. There’s a nice place just around the corner from where I’m staying—small, but it’s thought to be quite nice. It’s right on Madison Avenue.”

Priscilla shook her head. “No. I’ll be paying my own way. ”

“But—”

“No way, Phil. I’ll reshuffle my agenda and stay on for a couple of days, but under no circumstances do I want to feel beholden to you,” she said sharply. “It’s going to be that way, or you can forget the whole thing.”

“Okay, that’s the way it will be, then,” he said, holding his palms up in surrender to her demands. “Can I at least take you to where you’ll be staying?”

“You can do better than that—you can find me a place, since I don’t know of any. But it can’t be any swanky joint on Central Park. That’s not in my budget.

“You’ve got it. I think I know of a place on Fifty-Fourth between Sixth and Seventh. It might be kind of funky, but it’s a decent location and I think it’s reasonable. You want to go check it out?”

“Sure,” she agreed. Philip fetched a reluctant Caitlin while Priscilla gathered her worldly goods together. She had made another dubious bargain, but as was often the case, she caught herself adjusting her priorities with curious alacrity. Life was easier when she felt she had no control over it. She waited by the exit and let Phil lead her to the next phase of her life.

Tobias let out a long, low groan before pitching over on the bed next to a recumbent and radiant Simone. Their lovemaking had been a veritable smorgasbord of postures, emotions and attitudes, the final result being two entirely spent and satiated bodies. Simone, being younger, was the first to recover sufficiently to make a move. She propped herself up on an elbow and giggled at Tobias’s sorry condition.

“Stop,” he croaked weakly, making her titter all the more. When she had laughed herself out, she rolled over in the opposite direction, removing a fuchsia silk box from her bedside table. She sat up and crossed her legs as she took out a plastic baggie and began to roll a joint. Once completed, she lit it and took a deep drag, handing it to Tobias, who had only managed to lift his head three inches off the bed during the whole process.

“You shouldn’t stay away from me so long,” Simone chided him as he took a hit of the joint and coughed most of it out.

“I don’t think I could stand this on a regular basis,” he said. He handed the joint back to her and sat up to recover his breath. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and panted like a much older man for several seconds.

“In fact, I think this kind of thing might kill me one of these days.” Simone tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the joint again, but he waved it away. “No more for me,” he said, standing up on wobbly legs.

He tottered off to the bathroom, leaving his girlfriend to puff away to her heart’s content. When he returned several minutes later, she was nowhere in sight. He collapsed on the bed, pulling the sheet over his private parts. He was on the verge of dozing off when she popped out from behind a door and flew at him like a crazed animal.

“Jesus Christ!” he cried, taking a direct hit. At least she wasn’t heavy, he thought as he threw her off him. “Lay off that shit, will you? I’m not in the mood for exhibition wrestling right now.” Simone pouted for about five seconds, then bounced up and began jumping up and down on the bed.

“Cut it out,” Tobias said, but Simone smiled and continued to bounce energetically. After several irritated appeals, he reached out and grabbed one of her legs, sending her crashing down.

“Owww!”
she moaned. When it was evident no sympathy would be coming from Tobias, she abandoned her sore leg and snuggled up against her man.

“I’m hungry,” she whispered in his ear.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he answered.

“You know what I’m craving right now? Caramel corn. Doesn’t that sound divine?” Tobias made a dubious face. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate anything that sweet.

“No,” he said flatly. Simone remained undaunted by his cold response.

“Umm, it does to me. Where can we get some? I could eat a truckload of it. I bet you they have it at Coney Island. Let’s go get some.”

“Forget it. We are not driving to Coney Island for caramel corn. Besides, that crap will make you fat.” That remark got her attention.

“I’m getting fat, aren’t I?” Without waiting for an answer, she squirmed off the bed and stood in front of her full length mirror, pivoting back and forth as she anxiously appraised her dangerously slender frame.

“Of course not. Don’t be idiotic,” Tobias told her.

“I am. I know am. That’s why I haven’t had as much work lately,” she fretted, attempting to pinch her imaginary love handles with no success.

“Simone, if you had one fat cell, it would expire trying to find a mate.” Simone was unconvinced. “Oh please, you’re being ridiculous,” he said, exasperated by her histrionics.

“I’m getting fat.”

Tobias propped himself up and looked at her. “You’re right. You’ve got a great big lump of fat on the back of each leg, just below your butt.”

Simone craned her neck as she endeavored to locate the offending bulges. “Where? I can’t see it!” she whined.

“Right…there,” he said, sending her into a fit of convoluted postures that failed to yield sight of the dreaded lumps. “Here, I’ll show you,” he said, beckoning her to come to his side. When she was within reach, he pulled her down on top of him, holding her tightly while she squealed and squirmed.

“Let me go, let me go!”

“No, I’m not going to let you go until I hear you say you’re skinnier than Olive Oyl,” Tobias said.

“Skinnier than olive oil? What does that mean?” Tobias rolled his eyes. Cradle robbing definitely has its drawbacks, he thought, not for the first time. He had to constantly remind himself Simone hadn’t even been alive when his musical career took off. All the fads, fashions and world events that had shaped him in his formative years were largely unheard of by her generation.

“Never mind. Just tell me you’re not fat,” he amended.

“I am fat,” she said. Tobias squeezed her tighter.

“Uh…” she huffed.

“Say it,” he said, tightening his grip further.

“I’m not fat,” she grunted, then gasped as he tossed her off him. “That was mean,” she said petulantly, swatting at him ineffectually.

“Watch it, or I’ll do it again.”

Simone lay quietly for a moment, and then recovered some of her former vigor. “Since I’m not fat, can we go get some caramel corn?” she asked as she leaned her face close to his. It was at this moment that the door cracked open and Winston poked his head in. Finding Simone in bed and naked, he halted momentarily, until he realized it was Tobias in there with her.

“Tobias!”
he cried out in his oddly affectionate way, taking a flying dive at the two of them.

Must be some genetic proclivity toward hurling one’s body through the air
, Tobias thought, as he rolled out of Winston’s path just in the nick of time. He tried to slip off the bed, but Winston was too quick for him, grabbing him in a playful headlock, which felt far too exuberant to Tobias.

“Dude! Where’ve you been, man? Simone’s been moping around the apartment for days.”

“Shut up—I have not,” Simone protested, hitting Winston over the head with a pillow.

“Bullshit,” Winston countered, letting go of Tobias in order to snatch the pillow away from her. “You should’ve seen her, man—she was like in a funk or something. Didn’t even make one of her shoots. I thought Arianna was going to blow a gasket. You’re lucky she didn’t can your ass,” he said over his shoulder. Simone glared at him with arms crossed.

“Hey, can’t you see there was something
private
going on here, until you so rudely interrupted us,” she said coldly.

“Looks to me like it’s over now,” Winston said, unperturbed by his sister’s anger. “Besides, I smell smoke. And where there’s smoke, there’s ganja. Give me a toke,” he said, holding his hand out.

“Get it yourself, butthead,” Simone said peevishly.

“Don’t have to get your knickers in a twist just ’cause I told your boyfriend what a mess you’ve been, worrying that he’d never call you again. ‘
What did I do wrong? There must be someone else. He doesn’t love me anymore, boo hoo!’
” Winston mimicked in a sing-song falsetto. Simone tried to wrest the pillow away from him, but he was much stronger than her.

“Give it to me!” she wailed.

“Jesus! Would you two shut up? I feel like I’m babysitting a couple of four-year-olds,” Tobias said. He had made his move during all the commotion and slipped into his jeans. He stood at the side of the bed, regarding the sibling squabble with disdain. While he pulled his T-shirt on over his head, Simone punched Winston in the arm as a parting warning, then scooted off her side of the bed and relit the roach.

“Darling Simone, dearest sister of mine,” Winston beseeched her, his thumb and forefinger extended to receive what was left of the joint. She took a long drag and grudgingly passed it to him.

“Tobias won’t take me to get caramel corn,” she said as she exhaled. Winston’s eyes widened at the mention of this sticky confection. “Doesn’t that sound good?” she asked, sensing her brother’s renewed alliance.

“Definitely,” he croaked out. “So does a hamburger and onion rings. Or a nice, thick filet and fries, like they have at Juniper.”

Here we go,
Tobias thought as he pulled his boots on. It was the same scenario he’d gone through dozens of times before: have sex, get stoned, end up taking the whole family out for a prolonged orgy of food and drink, come back here and repeat the process all over again. The novelty had worn off long ago, but Tobias had yet to wean himself off the habit of Simone.

“The fries are better at Norton’s, and so are the drinks. But I still want caramel corn,” she insisted. Out of deference to her brother’s presence, she had donned a pair of skimpy undergarments. Despite her urgent craving, Tobias knew from past experience that it would be at least an hour before Simone would be ready to leave the apartment.

Tobias had two choices: hang out with Winston and Josh while he worked up a hunger of his own, or nix this plan right off the bat. It shouldn’t have been too hard a choice, though Tobias found himself reluctant to give up his connection to the outside world.

Now that he’d been relieved of his sexual tension, his mind kept straying to Priscilla and the massive collection of verse he had purchased from her. He was aggravated with himself for having gotten into a huff over waiting for her outside the bank. It wasn’t her fault, yet he’d been standoffish with her when he should’ve been getting answers to the questions that plagued him.

He had a fleeting impulse to duck out of Simone’s and head over to Priscilla’s place, not that he was anxious to revisit her dismal neighborhood so soon. But in the end, he talked himself out of it. He didn’t want to appear desperate, not that he was desperate. Nothing of the sort. He was merely curious, and his curiosity could wait.

For now he needed to decide how he wanted to spend his evening: playing the sugar daddy to his squad of rambunctious young bloods, or holed up in his hotel like a recluse, poring over reams of lyrics that had nothing whatsoever to do with him, yet at the same time were too compelling to leave alone. Before he could make up his mind, he became distracted by the annoying audio assault of Simone’s cell phone.

“Hey, where are you?” she asked as she absently surveyed her closet. “You’re just finishing? God, you must be annihilated. Nothing. Tobias is here, and your brother the pest. We’re trying to decide where to get something to eat. Oh really? Where? Cool. Yeah, let me find out,” she said, turning her attention to Tobias. “Do you have a car?”

Tobias had to think about this for a moment. Now was the time to bail. Instead, he nodded, sealing his course for the evening. “Can we pick Josh up? He wants to go with.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tobias said, tossing a pile of clothing out of the only chair in the room and slumping into it.

“Okay, see you in a few. Ciao.” Simone tossed the phone on the bed and turned a serious eye toward her wardrobe.

“I don’t know what to wear,” she complained, picking through her clothes impatiently. “Mikeala’s having a big party at her place. She was just chosen to be the new face of Lamel. Can you believe it? That’s easily a two mil a year contract. Probably more. Damn. I’m going to tell Arianna to get me a cosmetics gig. That’s where the real money is. She says I have the face for it,” Simone announced, assessing her features in the mirror. “Do you think I do, Tobias? Tobias?”

Tobias had closed his eyes, drifting away from her prattle. With effort, he pried them open and endeavored to focus on what she was babbling about.

“What?” he said, bleary with the sudden onset of fatigue. He was hoping to catch a few winks while she busied herself with her elaborate beautification routine. Hanging around a bunch of kids straight out of high school had not fostered a vicarious sense of youth; quite the opposite. There were times when Tobias felt old enough to be their grandfather. This was one of them. His sex-a-thon with Simone had all but flattened him.

The thought of spending a greater part of the evening with a room full of similarly self-obsessed pipsqueaks made his mind ache with boredom.
Oh, the price of clinging to one’s glory days!
he thought, as he worked up a phony smile to mask his inattention.

“Do you think I could ever land a cosmetic contract like Mikeala Douglas?”

“I don’t know,” Tobias replied with a shrug, as he squirmed to find a more comfortable position. “Sure, I guess so.” This lukewarm response did not please Simone. Tobias could tell by her expression she was on the verge of a major snit. Perversely, he didn’t feel like pandering to her vanity.

“Just because you want a cosmetic contract doesn’t mean you’ll get one. I imagine most models out there would sell their souls for a multi-year contract in the seven figures. That’s sort of a no-brainer.”
Good thing.

Simone, not known for her rationality or maturity, stood glaring hotly at Tobias before turning her back to him. Even if she hadn’t started throwing the contents of her closet out in the general direction of the bed, one article at a time, her irate vibes filled the air like a highly charged electrical field. Even a narcotic-mellowed Winston found the atmosphere too hostile for his liking.

“I’m going to have a shower,” he said, as he hauled his lanky frame off the bed. “See you two in a bit,” he added, giving Tobias a wink of solidarity as he passed. Simone seemed even more aggravated at losing half her audience. She began to hurl armloads of clothing, most of which landed just beyond her feet.

“Shit!” she cried out, kicking at the pile of assorted garments that threatened to trip her.

“What the hell are you so bent out of shape about?” Tobias asked, growing steadily more irritated by her temper-tantrum.

“Nothing,” she replied sullenly.

“What? Was it something I said?” This question earned him another icy glare.

“Look, I’m not really in the mood for this kind of crap,” he said, hoisting himself out of the chair.

“Where’re you going?” Simone whimpered. Tobias stood by the half-opened door, reconsidering his options.

“I know you’re young, but for chrissakes, do you have to carry on like an infant?”

“Wait! Tobias, don’t go,” she pleaded grabbing him by the arm and pulling him toward her.

“What’s your problem?”

Simone lowered her head and swayed coyly under his stern reprimand. “You really hurt my feelings, what you said about me not being pretty enough to land a cosmetic contract,” she replied in an injured tone.

“I never said anything of the sort,” Tobias said, holding her at arm’s length. She started to protest, but he cut her off.

“I said it’s a very difficult achievement, that’s all. I never said you weren’t pretty enough. I think you’re a beautiful girl, but the world’s full of beautiful girls.” A cloud shadowed Simone’s hopeful eyes. She twisted her arms out of Tobias’s grasp and wrapped them tightly around herself.