The Bride (The Boss) (46 page)

“Hey,” I said, feeling like a slob in the long-sleeve T, jeans, and mostly bare face I’d just planned to wear on the drive back to Sagaponack. Though I wasn’t in fashion journalism anymore, “look” was always on my mind, whether it was healthy or helpful or not. “You look great.”

“Thanks.” She plucked at her matte black leather vest, worn open over a long, tight white t-shirt with burnouts that revealed a black cami underneath. “I didn’t know what to wear.”

A server stepped over and took our drink orders, and Deja and I sat in part awkward silence, part inconsequential awkward chitchat until the woman returned with them. I sipped my rum and coke through a straw. I needed something to fortify myself for the helicopter.

It was Deja who broke the silence. “Look, I’m really nervous. Because I feel like I only have one shot at this.”

“One shot at what?” I hoped this was about a reconciliation between me and Holli. If it wasn’t, I would be crushed.

She folded her hands on the tabletop. “First of all, Holli doesn’t know I’m here. She carries a grudge like some people carry mononucleosis. It might be better if we don’t mention this to her.”

“It doesn’t matter. She won’t communicate with me, anyway.” Did that sound petty and hurt? If it did, maybe I was entitled to a little bit of that. If Holli was still mad, then this wasn’t about us becoming friends again. At least, not today.

“Good. Second,” Deja went on, “You deserve an apology. I was dishonest with you from the moment I met you.”

“You were the mole, weren’t you?” I hadn’t wanted to believe it was actually her. I’d been perfectly happy with India’s explanation that it had been Jessica, and a few other people who’d remained loyal to Gabriella. “But you didn’t even work for Gabriella. You came in later. HR even investigated your work history, there couldn’t have been any link to her, or Neil wouldn’t have hired you. It would have been—”

“Suspicious?” She nodded. “That’s why Gabriella and I thought it would be so perfect. Nobody in the industry knew anything about me.”

“Then…what’s your relationship to Gabriella?”

She took a deep breath. “My mom and Gabriella grew up together. They went to the same private school, they even went to the same rich girl summer camp,” Deja said with a bitter laugh. “I went there, too. But I wasn’t as good at fitting in as my mom was. I was kind of an angry teenager. I got good grades and everything, and I got admitted to Bryn Mawr. I was planning to go there when my mom died.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” In fact, the amount I didn’t know about Deja was just starting to hit me. I knew she loved Holli. I knew she was a good person. So, how did a good person end up involved in a bunch of espionage crap?

You ended up in a bunch of espionage crap.

I decided I had to reserve my judgment, lest I damn myself.

“This isn’t an excuse. At all. But when my mom died, I was self-destructive. I was going to blow my entire life, because I was mad at myself for not fulfilling my mom’s expectations of me when she was alive. And my dad was no help. He got remarried within, like, a year, and I don’t know if I wasn’t ready to let my mom go or resentful that he could, but I had no guidance.

“Gabriella stepped in before I could ruin everything for myself. She practically bought my way back into school, she gave me a place to live… She basically became my second mom.”

“But how did I not know this before? I mean, Manhattan is a pretty small island, for a place with eight million people living in it. How did no one know?” Especially since Gabriella was such an iconic figure in the fashion world. Because of her glamorous image, tabloids scrambled to unearth anything possible about her, and they were scary good at their business.

“I didn’t want people to know that I was close to Gabriella because I wanted to get by on my own steam. And I did. I didn’t get my promotions at
Rock Monthly
because of her. I didn’t have her make any calls or put me in contact with any people. But she gave me advice, and she’s stopped me from doing stupid things to my career so many times…

“The truth is… I had to do what I did for Gabriella. Without her, I would have never gone to college, and I wouldn’t have the life I have now. I would be… I don’t know. Waiting tables in Japan somewhere.”

That struck more of a chord with me than I think she’d intended. Certainly more than she could ever know. Gabriella was to Deja as Neil was to me, minus the romantic entanglement. She’d prevented Deja from making a very big mistake.

However, if Neil had asked me to do something unethical in return…

“You didn’t have to do what you did. It wasn’t right.” I wouldn’t bend on that, no matter how much she apologized.

“I know. It was low. Very low. I started working there with the intention of gathering dirt on Mr. Elwood, and I deserved to be fired when he found out. But once I got to know you, and once I realized how much it was going to hurt you, I stopped. And I never did anything that could have harmed the magazine. It never got that far. But I did harm you.” She looked down at her hands, then back up at me. “I told Gabriella you and he were together.”

My heart dropped.

“I’m really sorry. I know that it affected you negatively, and I know—”

“It didn’t affect me negatively,” I interjected. I didn’t even need to consider whether it had or not. It was just a fact. “The only thing that happened from Gabriella knowing that I was fucking my boss was that she asked me to stop fucking him if I came to work for her.”

“Wait, you weren’t…” The left side of her face squinched up slightly. “Why did you get fired?”

“Neil fired me for knowing about Jake being a mole, too.” I drummed my fingers on the table in the silence that followed. “I mean, like I said, I was fucking my boss. I don’t know how I thought that was a wise career move. I guess we both did some pretty unethical shit in the name of personal relationships.”

She nodded slowly in agreement. “That we did.”

“But for my part, I’m sorry, too.” I wanted desperately to tell myself that what I’d done in ratting out Deja wasn’t nearly as bad as what she’d done spying on me and Neil, but it was almost worse. I didn’t get fired for Deja tattling on me, after all. “Maybe I should have talked to you first, gotten your side of the story, something. Anything other than how it went down.”

“It went down the way it went down because shit happens and when it does, the person who caused it should clean it up. That’s just a fact of life. And Mr. Elwood did get my side of the story, and he wanted to be sympathetic, but he’s running a huge company. I understand why I got fired.” Deja sighed and took a sip of her mojito. “It is what it is. And despite what Holli may have said, he didn’t threaten me by saying I’d never work in New York again. He’d just stated it as a fact. A fact that my bank account can definitely attest to.”

I shifted in my seat a little. I wanted to know—I desperately wanted to know—but I was afraid to ask the question that had been burning in my mind for months. “Do you…do you think Holli will ever forgive me?”

Deja’s pause was like a dagger through my heart. But then she said, “I can’t imagine that she would ever be happy without you. She’s always comparing your friendship to, oh, what’s that boring book about the white girls in Canada? One of them dyes her hair green by mistake?”

“
Anne of Green Gables
?”

She bumped the side of her fist against the table. “That’s the one. Not being able to remember that is going to be the marriage ender.”

“Probably. Holli loves those books. Although, I’m not sure she’s comparing us so much to the green hair as she is the part where they get drunk on cordial.”
 

“Well, I was more of an R.L. Stine girl. But I understand the reference when she says you two are kindred spirits.” The pain on Deja’s face looked as though it rivaled mine; she was as torn up about my falling out with Holli as I was. “I know she said some…pretty strong things—”

“She accused me of being with Neil for his money.” I wouldn’t let that one go. “I get enough of that from everybody else. I can’t believe she went to that place.”

“I’m not going to make excuses for her. But can you see why she might be—why anyone who had a suddenly rich best friend—would have been frustrated? This isn’t all about my firing. She was having a hard time watching you go off on your own. Some of that was the money; we were living pretty tight for a bit there, and now more so. I mean, we’ll make it, but there was some jealousy there.” Deja spread her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

“I think that’s natural. Unfair, but natural. It’s not like I could ask Neil, ‘hey, could you do me a favor and stop being rich?’” Though we received monthly statements from the financial firm that handled our money, I’d never had the courage to look at them. I had no idea how much we really had, and although I knew that wasn’t wise of me, I found our wealth too intimidating. I couldn’t hold it against Holli that she was intimidated as well.

Deja grimaced in sympathy. “I think the biggest problem was that she saw you slipping away. You know I love her, but Holli has this sense that the world revolves around her. That’s one of the things that makes her so magical. But it also means that she can’t handle change very well. Something like this was inevitable; if she pushed you away, she didn’t have to see you drift away.”

“I miss her so much.” Well, there were the tears. I wiped them away on the back of my hand.

“I know you do. She misses you, too. I just hope that her pride…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

“There’s been so much change lately. I mean, good changes, too, obviously.” I shook my head and looked over at the photo hanging in the booth. A model styled strikingly to resemble Audrey Hepburn.

“Ugh,” Deja said, and I noticed her studying the print, as well. “I’m sorry, I get that it’s classic, but it is really overdone. If I had a magazine, I vow I would never run some ‘tribute to white Hollywood glamor’ bullshit.”

“Wouldn’t it be cool to race bend some of those images?” I mused. “Black Audrey Hepburn, black Marilyn Monroe.”

“No, Asian Audrey Hepburn,” Deja corrected me. “It’ll remind people how racist
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
is.”

“Ooh, good one.” I sighed. “Too bad we’re not in charge.”

It was like a bolt of lightning had hit the table between us. We stared at each other, wide-eyed, barely breathing.

“Can we…” Deja’s tongue rolled across her bottom lip. “Can we do that?”

I had the money. We both had the experience. And we both had spotty ethical pasts…

My ribcage swelled with decisive breath. “Yes, we can. We can do this.”

* * * *

I found Neil in the turret balcony, lying on the big double chaise longue. His black sweater and dark jeans broke the black-and-white striped pattern of the cushions. He glanced up from his Kindle when I stepped outside, but his eyes quickly returned to the words on the screen.

“You’re back sooner than I expected.”

“I have to admit, the helicopter is convenient.” I took a few steps toward him. The day was unexpectedly chilly, and the breeze coming off the sea made me glad I was wearing a cardigan. Neil, on the other hand, was sitting there in his bare feet. When he was immersed in a book, it was almost like he didn’t feel any physical discomfort. “You should have socks on, at least.”

“Thank you, Mother,” he said, never looking up, but a faint smile bent his mouth. “Let me finish this chapter, and I’m all yours.”

I hated to bother him while he was reading, but this was important. I walked over, the Birkin bag hidden behind me bumping my thighs with every step. I loomed over him a moment, then dropped the bag on his knees.

He looked up.

“I’m selling it.” I stood with my hands on my hips. “It’s going to auction. Deja has a connection at Sotheby’s.”

“You’re not still feeling guilty for buying it, surely?” He set his reader aside and pushed himself up.

“Well, maybe a little. But I am glad I did. Because it’s going to provide the capital for my new magazine.” I said nothing else and waited for the information to sink in.

Now, he was interested. He folded his arms on his chest, and one ankle over the other. “You have my attention.”

“A women’s magazine. Career stuff, beauty stuff, health, fashion, etc. Featuring all body types, all ethnicities, and absolutely none of this ‘trends guys love or hate’ bullshit. I want this to be a real women’s magazine. Not a magazine about women pleasing men.”

“So, less
Cosmopolitan
, more
Ms.
?”

I shrugged. “More like a bastard child of the two of them.”

He looked like he was considering the idea, and I quickly added, “I’m using
our
money to do this.”

“Oh, I assumed so.” He bracketed his chin with thumb and bent fingers, stroking his jaw absently. “I would recommend you discuss your budget and start up with
our
financial adviser, though.”

“I will.” This was the part he might not be all that enthusiastic about. “Deja and I are doing this. Together.”

“I think that’s a wise choice. Deja has worked in the industry long enough to build up a wealth of necessary contacts.”

“So…” This was a tough question, one I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to. But Neil had been in this business far longer than I had, and I needed to hear his honest opinion, which I could always trust him to give me. “Do you think we can pull this off? I mean, not as a hobby. As a real thing? Do you think we can do it?”

He scooted over so I could sit beside him. “I think you could do anything, Sophie. I really do.”

“That sounds like some generic ‘believe in yourself’ bullshit.” I had to call him out on it. If we didn’t keep this conversation a hundred percent real, I would always wonder, in the event that I failed, if he’d just placating me.

“No, it isn’t. I employed you. I know how hard you work. And I’ve seen your frustration over the past year when, with the exception of your book, you haven’t been working. You have the drive, and it sounds like you have a very practical idea.” He shrugged and slipped his hands into his jeans pockets. “I’m not going to tell you that you won’t fail. Starting a magazine, hell, even running one, is incredibly difficult. But you’ll have a lot of support, emotionally, practically, and financially. You have a good start. So yes, I think you can do it.”