Among the Ducklings (22 page)

When she
picked up the phone, a young female voice came on the line sounding as if she
was whispering. “Is this
Vanna
Francis?”

“Yes, who
is this?”

“My name is
Stephanie Marshall, Andy Marshall's sister.”

“The
actor?”

“Yes.”

“How is
he?”

“He died
and was buried yesterday,” Stephanie said.
 
Vanna
could feel the sadness in the woman's
voice.

“I'm sorry
to hear that.
 
He was still very
young.
 
Was he sick?”

“Yes. But
that's not what killed him.
 
He killed
himself,” Stephanie said, her voice cracking on the line.

“I'm deeply
sorry, Stephanie.
 
How can I help you?”

“I saw that
you wrote a story about Stacy Marshall a couple of days ago, and I wanted to
know if you can help me sell a story about her.”

“About
who?”
Vanna
asked.

“Stacy
Marshall.”

“Well, it
depends on the story. The tabloids are the ones that will pay and therefore
they will make the decisions on whether the story is worth publishing. So what
is it about?”

Stephanie
then told her.
 

“Are you
sure of that? She has a lot of money and is very powerful.”

“I can
prove it,” Stephanie said, explaining her intimate knowledge of the situation
and how she was going to prove it.

“Well, this
can be big. What's your phone number? I need to make some phone calls and I
will call you back,” said
Vanna
eagerly. After
Vanna
had written down Stephanie’s number, she quickly
finished her
Griyo
,
a Haitian dish made of chunks of pork, and left the
restaurant in a hurry.
 
“Miami stands for
good luck in my book,”
Vanna
said to herself, as she
called the editor of The Query.

##

Stacy had
just reached her rented villa when her satellite phone rang.

“Are you
alone?” her publicist asked.

“Just one
second.” She motioned to Phil that it was a business call and she stepped
outside of the house.

“What is
it?”

“I just got
a call from
Vanna
Francis and she wanted to know if
you have any comment about a story that will be published in The Query.

“Did she
say what it was about?”

“No. She
said it was personal and wanted to speak to you directly.”

“Ok give me
the phone number. I will call her,” Stacy said. A few minutes later, Stacy was
on the phone with
Vanna
.

“What's
this all about?” Stacy asked.

“Thank you
for calling me,”
Vanna
said.

“How
couldn't I? You said it was urgent,” Stacy said.

“I'm
writing a story about you for “The Query” and just wanted to give you an
opportunity to respond to what's going to be written.”

“What's the
story about?”

When she
told Stacy about it, a furious Stacy asked, “Who told you this garbage?
 
Andy?”

“Your ex-husband
killed himself few days ago.”

“Well, you
have no story.” If Stacy was saddened about Andy's death, she didn't show it.

“Actually,
I do. I have witnesses.”

“Listen to
me clearly,
Vanna
. I have a lot of money.
 
I will sue you for every penny you have if
you publish this story and get your facts wrong.
 
As far as I am concerned, you've got all your
facts wrong,” Stacy said, still wondering who Andy might have told about it.

“Don't
threaten me Stacy,”
Vanna
said. “I'm just doing my
job and I was giving you an opportunity to tell your side, and I see that I've
wasted my time.”

“Actually
you haven't,” Stacy said calming herself. “How much is The Query paying you for
the story?”

“That's
none of your business.”

“Be
reasonable. I can triple what they are paying you if you make the story go
away,” Stacy said.

“I'm not
for sale, Stacy,”
Vanna
replied.

“Everyone
has a price.
 
Name yours,” Stacy
insisted.

“Actually,
it may come as a surprise to you, but I'm a professional journalist.
 
It's true that I make living writing articles
for the tabloids, but it's not just about the money and, as I said, I'm not for
sale,” a resolute
Vanna
said.

“I'm sorry
to hear that.
 
But mark my words, I won't
stand here and let you print this garbage about me. Got it?”

“Clear as
ice,”
Vanna
said and hung up.

##

Arnold
Blanchard was in his limousine, going back to his house outside of New
Jersey.
 
Enjoying a strong alcoholic
drink during these trips home from the office was one of the few things that he
enjoyed in life. At sixty years old, he always wondered how his family life had
turned out this way.

He would
admit he wasn't a saint. He didn't become one of the richest men in the tabloid
publishing industry by being nice.
 
Once
in
awhile
, he had to embark on the usual hostile
takeover of competitors, which made his work worthwhile.
 
He had three kids who were constantly suing
each other for money and a wife of thirty years who hated him, blaming her hate
for him on his philandering, while she herself was sleeping with her personal
trainer.
 
The only time he got a respite
was in his limousine, alone, with a drink in his hand. Even the pleasure of
spending time with his twenty-four year-old mistress couldn't top the quiet
time that he enjoyed in his limousine, with his bourbon. Sometimes he even
wondered if he wasn't an alcoholic.
 
“If
he was an alcoholic, he had a heck of a designated driver,” he said to himself,
before gulping the bitter tasting liquid.
 

He was
still a long way from home, and decided to pour himself another shot of the drink,
when the car phone rang.

“Arnie,
it's me Ben,” the male voice said. Ben was a partner of a major law firm in New
York City.
 
He and Arnie had known each
other since they were in graduate school.

“Ben it's
been a while. What can I do you for?”

“There is
an issue with the Query. I have a client who is furious and wanted me to sue
for an injunction against the magazine to stop it from going ahead with a bogus
story about her.”

Arnold, who
was the majority owner of The Query, didn't need this. Among all of his
magazines, The Query was the only one that was currently losing money.
 
Fighting a lawsuit or being liable for
damages would destroy The Query.

“Who's your
client?”

“Stacy
Marshall, the movie producer. The Query is trying to print a story about her
personal life.
 
She told me to do
anything to stop it.”

Among all
of the stories about B movie stars and drug addicts, why would The Query want
to fight a big fish, when it couldn't even make payroll? Arnold asked himself.
“Ben, I'll call the news director and take care of it.”

“Thanks
Arnie. Say hello to the wife and kids for me.”

“Take
care.”

##

“We can't
do it
Vanna
.”

“What do
you mean, you can't do it?”
Vanna
asked.
 
She was talking to the editor of The Query.

“The boss
called and he said that we were exposing ourselves to too much liability,” the
editor said.

“How did he
know about the story?
 
Does he track the
day to day publications?”

“Not
really. Someone very powerful must have threatened a big lawsuit on this.”

“So?”
Vanna
asked. “In our business we get threatened with
lawsuits every day. What makes this one different?”

“You're
talking about someone who has a lot of money and many powerful lawyers.”

“I see,”
Vanna
said. “Thanks for trying. I'll shop it around. Sooner
or later, I think another magazine will pick it up.”

“Sorry
about that.
 
Good luck.”

“Stacy, you
may have won the battle but not the war,”
Vanna
said
to herself, while grabbing her rolodex.

##

After her
confrontation with Richard, Isabel spent the next few days home and venturing
out only for her therapy.
 
She had spent
years being engaged and had nothing to show for it. Messages left by both
Marcia and Lucy had gone answered. So far, she had not told anyone what
happened between her and Richard.

It was late
in the evening on Friday, when Rebecca, came to her room.

“Isabel,
Lucy left me a message saying that she was worried about you.”

“I'm not
sure why she would worry.”

“You're not
returning anyone's calls and Tia Marcia said that you've been avoiding her,
even when you are at the Center.”

“I've had a
lot on my mind lately,” Isabel said.

“Does it
have to do with Richard?” Rebecca asked.

“Why would
you say that?”

“We know he
is in town and he has stopped coming around,” Rebecca said.

“Well, we
broke up.”

“What
happened?” a speechless Rebecca said.

“He is
married,” Isabel confirmed.

“What?”
Rebecca was stunned.

“While he
was with me, he was married to another woman and even had a baby.”

“How did
you find out?”

“Long
story, but better late than never.”

“I'm sorry,
Isabel.”

“Me too.”

##

Phil and
Stacy had spent a wonderful three days in Costa Rica.
 
They spent time swimming in hot springs,
eating delectable fruits and visiting nearby towns. Phil was learning to be
happy again. Stacy was relieved after she had spoken to her attorney, the day
after she had the conversation with
Vanna
.

“What
happened?” She had asked her lawyer.

“I talked
to the Query’s owner and told him that we were contemplating a lawsuit.”

“What did
he say?”

“He said he
was going to take care of it.”

“And you
trust him?” Stacy had asked.

“Of
course.
 
I know him. Besides, I also talked to the
editor who confirmed that The Query won't run the story.”

“Great,”
Stacy said. “Thanks.”

“No Sweat.
Stay out of trouble.”

The morning
of the fundraiser, Lucy came to pick up Isabel.
 
They were going shopping for clothes for the party and making a stop at
the beauty salon.

“So why
haven't you returned my calls?”

“Sorry
Lucy, I've had a lot on my mind.
 
I was
going to see you today anyway.”

“Rebecca
told me that you broke up with Richard.”

“What else
did she say?” Isabel asked.
 
She wanted
to tell Lucy herself.

“Nothing
really.
She told
me to ask you why, when I saw you.”

“Richard
was cheating on his wife with me.”

“You're not
serious?”
 
Lucy was dumbfounded.

“I talked
to his wife, who hung up the phone on me.”

“What did
Richard say? Did he deny it?”

“He said he
was going to divorce his wife for me,” Isabel replied.

“Did you
throw your engagement ring in his face?”

“I forgot
to give it to him.
 
I still have it.”

“What are
going to do with it?”

“Mail it to
him. Better yet, give it away for charity, tonight at the fundraiser.” Isabel tried
to laugh but no laughter came out. The episode had been deeply embarrassing.

“I hear you
sister,” Lucy said. “I’m really sorry about that.
 
He seemed to be a nice guy.”

“Don't
worry about it.”