Going For Broke (26 page)

             
Andrea almost spit out her wine.  “Oh, God, I never thought about that!”

             
“Andrea Howard!  Is it true?”

             
Andrea waved the story off.  “Barely.  Yes, I’m sleeping with him, but Lord knows I have no intention of continuing anything after we wrap.  In fact, that’s part of the reason for my little visit here.  He was getting so clingy -- waiting for me in my trailer, meeting me at the craft service table -- it was starting to freak me out.   He was even leaving me little notes all around the set.”

             
Victoria laughed.  She had never met a more commitment-phobic woman than Andi.  Andrea gave George Clooney a run for his money in that department.  “So you flew halfway around the world to hide out with your favorite down-on-her-luck friend?”

             
“No, just my favorite friend.  I’ve been worried about you and it gave me a good excuse to get out of Dodge.  I have to be back in Romania on Tuesday - the insurance company won’t cover me for any longer.  My agent is ballistic, but I don’t care.  What if I were sick?”  Victoria loved Andrea’s logic, or rather her lack of it.  There was a reason she was such an icon - she really was one of the most charming people on earth.  “I’m tired of talking about me.  Let’s talk about you.  Is it as bad as it looks?”

             
“It depends.  Financially, it’s a disaster.  Trip’s MIA and I’m working for minimum wage.”  She didn’t want to go into the details of her job with Andrea.  She wasn’t embarrassed, but she didn’t feel a need to get into it.  Especially with one of the world’s biggest movie stars, lounging across from her in a custom-made Zac Posen dress and Jean Paul Gaultier shoes.   Victoria got a little lump in her throat when she first saw them. 

             
“Victoria, you have to let me help you out.  I don’t care how much you need. I wouldn’t even miss it,” Andrea said.   Victoria knew this was true, as Andrea reportedly was being paid $15 million for the movie she from which had just called in sick. 

             
Victoria shook her head.  “I can’t.  Besides, the FBI would probably confiscate it as soon as you gave it to me.  It’s not that bad.  Really.  No one is more surprised than me.”

             
Andrea sat up in her chair, and Victoria recognized that look when she got one of her ‘brilliant ideas’.  “Stay in my apartment in Tribeca!  I won’t be back for months, and even if I was, I’d love to have you.”

             
“I can’t go back.  Not now, not like this.”  Victoria ran her finger around the rim of her glass and looked up at Andrea.  “Who knows? Maybe I’ll never go back.”

             
“Oh, don’t say that!  I’d miss you too much,” Andrea said.  Victoria laughed. Andrea probably spent all of 20 days a year in New York.  Even when she wasn’t on location, she hopped around the globe like a ping pong ball.  She couldn’t even commit to a place. 

             
“I have to say, life in Tenaqua isn’t as bad as you’d think.  The kids love their new school.  Parker is even trying out for a baseball team, can you believe it?  Posey’s in a play.  I’m turning into a regular June Cleaver.”

             
“Except that in your case Ward’s on the run...”

             
“Okay, maybe more like Marge Simpson.”

             
“Ha!  I love the idea of Trip as Homer.”

             
“Homer is probably smarter,” Victoria said.

             
“And better looking,” Andrea said.  “Ouch!  I didn’t mean that.”

             
“Don’t worry.  I’m over him.  Running out on a girl can take the fire out of a relationship that was already running on fumes.  I’m filing for divorce.”

             
“Can you do that, without a body?”

             
“Who knows?  I’m in such unchartered territory.  I need to get it started though.  For my sanity, not to mention my lawyer thinks it’s a good idea.”

             
Andrea leaned over the table to tease Victoria.  “Got another guy already?” 

             
“No!” Victoria said, with perhaps too vehement of a denial, which Andrea pounced on.

             
“Who is he?”

             
“Nobody.”

             
“Nobody always means somebody.  I should know,” Andrea said.  “Who is he?  I’m not going to let you off the hook until you spill.  I promise I won’t say a word.”

             
“Okay, you got me.  The guy sitting at the bar,” she said, indicating Mike, who she had noticed took up residence shortly after they had sat down.  He was reading a beaten-up paperback novel, and had a cup of coffee sitting on the polished bar.  He didn’t look up at them. 

             
“Funny,” Andrea said.  “Fine, don’t tell me.”

CHAPTER 17

             
The next morning, Andrea insisted on sending the happy crew back home in the pink Hummer, much to Victoria’s dismay.  Somehow hopping in a hideous pink limousine yesterday seemed like a glamourous adventure, today it felt downright tacky.  Of course, Andrea’s car was long, sleek and black and the Barbiemobile, parked next to Andrea’s car, was a sore reminder that Victoria was not in a position anymore to be the one in the driver’s seat. 

             
It took a crew of six porters to get all of Andrea’s luggage down and into the car.  She was never one to travel light, even when they first met.  One day years ago Victoria was rummaging though Andrea’s purse, most likely looking for a cigarette, and she found a roll of toilet paper. 

             
“What the hell are you doing with this?” Victoria asked, holding up the roll that was now tattered and spotted with loose tobacco.

             
“You never know when you’re going to need it,” Andrea replied.  It made perfect sense to her.  Victoria used to call it Andi-logic. 

             
“If you decide to take me up on my apartment, just call Domenica and she’ll have it ready for you in no time,” Andrea said as she perched the giant Chanel sunglasses on her prominent nose.  She held out her arms and bent down to get kisses from the kids.   

             
“Thanks, but you’ve already done enough.”  Victoria hugged Andrea quickly.  She had noticed three women who had stopped on the sidewalk when they recognized Andrea, and wanted to get her into her car without having to chat up the oversized housewives from Oklahoma.  Victoria appreciated the access and VIP treatment Andrea’s celebrity brought, but could never have lived with the constant invasion of privacy. 

             
The limo took them up the lakeshore, which sparkled on this beautiful morning.  Watching the runners and bikers going up and down the lake path, Victoria felt her hangover growing with each mile.  She was out of practice, and Andrea could throw back a bottle of wine before dinner.  And yet, she couldn’t remember a single time she had seen Andrea truly drunk.  By the time they had reached Tenaqua, Parker and Posey had tired of the limo too.  They were eager to get home to their friends and their house.  Victoria was surprised.  She thought it would be harder for all of them to go back to life in their makeshift world. 

             
             
             
             
             
             
###

             
“Thank God for Andrea,” Barbara said when Victoria walked through the door, laden with shopping bags and the gifts for Parker and Posey. 

             
“She went overboard.  Where is Posey going to wear a $600 Jacquadi dress?”

             
“No, I mean your hair!  You look like you again!”

             
“Thanks mother.” 

             
“I didn’t want to say anything, but let’s just say red is not your color.”

             
Victoria started sorting through the bags.  “So much of this stuff is just impractical.  I’m half tempted to return it for something they can  wear.  Too bad Neiman’s doesn’t have a sporting goods department.”

             
“Why Vicki, you’re beginning to sound downright sensible.”

             
“You know how to kill a moment, mother.”

             
Barbara didn’t pay attention to Victoria as she went to pick up the ringing phone. 

“Why yes, she’s right here,” Barbara said as she motioned to Victoria to come to the phone.  Of course her mother’s tethered phone couldn’t come to her. 

             
“It’s a woman,” Barbara mouthed.  No caller ID necessary with Barbara Brewster in the house.  “I think it’s the mother of Posey’s little friend.” 

             
Victoria ignored her mother and took the call.  She turned her back to her mother, which was the best she could do for privacy in her mother’s house. 

             
“Victoria?  Hi, this is Kathy Berner, Claire’s mom,” the woman on the other end of the phone said.  Why was it that women insisted on labeling themselves as someone’s mother?  No self-respecting would call another man and say: “Hi, this is Chuck, Billy’s dad.” 

             
“Hi Kathy,” Victoria wasn’t great on the phone to begin with, and trying to adopt a cheerful suburban mom cadence proved to be both difficult and unattractive.  Perky was not her style.

             
“I know this is last minute.  The Kindergarten mothers are having a “Boo-Hoo/Yahoo” party to celebrate their last kids graduating from Kindergarten, and thought it would be fun if you could make it.  Posey is your youngest, isn’t she?”  Hell yes!  Couldn’t even imagine having a toddler at home.  Just the thought of it gave Victoria a chill.   “It should be fun, and would be a great chance for you to meet some new people.”  Quick, Victoria, come up with a great refusal.  It sounded dreadful.  “It starts about 6:30.  No dinner, just heavy appetizers and wine,” Kathy continued.  “I have to drive carpool, so you don’t mind meeting me there, do you?  It’s at Susan DeMarco’s house on Shady Oak Drive.  Her address is in the school directory.”  Victoria could hear the sharp sound of breaking glass and subsequent child cries in the background.  “Oh, Shit!  I’ve got to go.  See you there!”  Kathy hung up the phone without giving Victoria a chance to back out. 

             
“See you there,” Victoria said to the dead phone in her hand.

             
             
             
             
             
             
###

             
“Thanks Bud,” Victoria said as she got out of her stepfather’s beige Buick.  She stood in front of a massive stone house that looked like it was trying to imitate a British Castle, complete with stained glass windows and a turret.  There was even a family crest mounted on the antique-looking front door.  The newly planted saplings around the house, coupled with a barrage of cheerful geraniums easily betrayed the pretense, as did the colorful yet sprawling play structure standing in the middle of the semicircle driveway.  For some reason it made Victoria think of a Habitrail.

             
Standing on the doorstep of Susan DeMarco’s house, Victoria felt like she was back in 10th grade.  It was bad enough that Bud had to drop her off, but when she got to the house, she had butterflies in her stomach.  She realized at that moment that the FBI didn’t just confiscate her possessions, they took her confidence as well.  Screw them, she thought.  I can do this.  She rang the doorbell and immediately had second thoughts.