Chapter 4
Hayley wasn't exactly sure if Liddy and Mona had insisted on accompanying her to New York City to her first ever TV show appearance in order to support her and keep her nerves in check or for their own personal reasons. Liddy made no secret that she was overdue for her biannual shopping trip, and Mona was upfront about wanting a break from her hell-raising, obnoxious, out of control brats.
Her
words, not Hayley's.
But as they waited at the baggage claim carousel at LaGuardia Airport after a harrowing thirty-minute connecting flight from Boston on a puddle jumper that rattled and shook from unexpected turbulence, forcing them to down straight shots of bourbon to stop themselves from crying, Hayley was happy they had made the trip with her.
Liddy, the seasoned traveler, had already secured a luggage cart for her three large pieces. They were in the city for four days, but Liddy seemed to have packed for a six-month world tour. Her matching baby blue Lipault Paris bags were the first ones out of the chute because she was, in her words, “a privileged frequent flyer with perks including unlimited priority baggage tags.” It was only a few minutes before Mona's army duffel bag and Hayley's scuffed and torn years-old American Tourister were sliding down the conveyor belt. They exited the security doors to the main lobby of the terminal where Hayley spotted a wiry Hindu man in a tight-fitting black suit and tie waiting for them with a printed sign that said, H
AYLEY
P
OWELL
& C
OMPANY
.
“And Company? Why do I suddenly feel like we're the Supremes and you're Diana Ross?” Liddy scoffed.
“Because I only told them you were coming this morning and I didn't even get a chance to give them your names,” Hayley said, waving at the driver, who scooted over to them with a wide smile.
“Welcome to New York. I'm Samir. Please, let me help you with your bags to the car.”
Liddy was only too happy to hand over the cart to Samir while Mona eyed him suspiciously. They stepped outside and crossed to the lot directly opposite the terminal where they were escorted to a long black stretch limousine.
“Now, wait just a minute. How much is this going to cost us?” Mona barked. “I read online that New York cabbies like to jack up the price and overcharge tourists.”
“Oh no, ma'am, I am not a cab driver. I work for a private company and the car has already been paid for by the network.”
Mona still wasn't buying it. She was convinced this was a con job.
Hayley rifled through her bag for the printed e-mail she had received from the travel agent at
The Chat
and handed it to Mona. “Look, Mona. All expenses will be paid including lodging and transportation to and from the airport. They're covering everything.”
Mona relaxed a bit. Samir tried to open the back door of the limo for Mona, but she pushed past him and slapped his hand away. “I am perfectly capable of getting into a car myself, thank you, in case that costs extra.”
Liddy rolled her eyes, embarrassed, and climbed in after Mona as Samir popped the trunk using his remote key and began loading the bags inside.
Hayley couldn't believe they were actually here.
It had all happened so fast.
She was grateful that Liddy had used her accumulated mileage to snag two free tickets for herself and Mona. She couldn't imagine experiencing this on her own. Especially since she had been feeling so lonely lately with the kids gone and Aaron so unavailable.
As she ducked into the car to join Liddy and Mona, she gasped at the opulence of the plush leather seats, glass bowls of candy, and fully stocked bar. Liddy was already pouring herself a cocktail.
“Help yourselves, ladies, it's going to be at least a forty-five-minute ride to the hotel now that it's close to rush hour,” Liddy said.
Mona poked around the tray full of tiny liquor bottles. “I don't see a card with drink prices.”
Liddy sighed. “It's complimentary, Mona.”
Mona hesitated, but quickly got into the swing of things and was excitedly screwing off the cap on a blueberry vodka sampler while downing a fistful of pretzels.
Samir put on some soft music and they were soon crawling along the Grand Central Parkway toward Manhattan.
Hayley took in the spectacular view of the New York City skyline. It was dusk and there was a golden hue washing over the skyscrapers, making it seem like some magical urban Oz.
Hayley had been to the city before, when Randy was trying to make it as an actor, but he had lived in a tiny fourth-floor walk-up studio in a seedy building near the meatpacking district, so she was anxious to experience New York on a slightly grander scale. She wasn't disappointed when the car finally pulled up in front of the Le Parker Meridien, a luxury midtown hotel on Fifty-sixth Street. A uniformed porter whipped open the back door of the limo and offered a cheery welcome, startling Mona, who was now slightly tipsy from her vodka samplers.
They piled out of the car and thanked Samir as two more porters attended to their luggage.
They were led inside to the large ornate French-inspired lobby.
Liddy, who prided herself on her well-heeled tastes and called herself a “five-star girl” when she traveled, was duly impressed but tried to mask her awe as they ambled over to check-in.
The handsome young man behind the polished and modern desk had a slight French accent; Hayley couldn't decide whether it was natural or put on. He was very helpful and friendly, especially when patiently explaining to Mona that all incidentals including room service would be covered by the network. Once that finally sunk in, Mona was insisting they eat in the hotel that evening instead of going out to one of those fancy high-end restaurants that even charged for a hunk of bread and a slab of butter. If the TV bigwigs were springing for free food in the room, why not take advantage of it?
Liddy, of course, protested. She was in New York. She had no intention of hiding in a hotel room, no matter how tasteful and luxurious, when the Big Apple beckoned just outside with its exciting nightlife and armies of single men.
“Now, we agreed before we left Bar Harbor that if there were any conflicts we would take a vote and majority would rule, so you have the deciding vote, Hayley,” Liddy said confidently, knowing full well Hayley wouldn't want to stay locked up in the room on her first night in Manhattan.
They walked onto the elevator and Liddy pressed the thirty-eighth-floor button, and within seconds they went speeding up into the clouds.
There was a moment of silence.
Liddy eyed her warily. “Hayley?”
“Well, we are here for the whole weekend after the taping. . . .” Hayley said quietly.
“Hayley, no!” Liddy screamed, as Mona folded her arms, a self-satisfied smile on her face.
“It's just that I'm really nervous about tomorrow, and I need to get a good night's rest, and I'm fine if you want to go out on the town without me, but I have to prepare and think about how I'm going to present my bacon dish in under a minute in front of all those TV cameras and a full studio audience, and that's a lot of pressure, so I'd rather wait and have fun once it's all over.”
More silence.
Although Mona's smile spoke volumes. She knew she had the vote in the bag.
The elevator doors opened on the thirty-eighth floor and Liddy shook her head before stepping off. “Fine. We'll stay in and order room service. But just tonight, do you hear me? I am not going to spend the entire weekend in the hotel because Mona doesn't want to pay for a club sandwich!”
After they trekked down the hall to their room and let themselves in using the card key, they found themselves in a deluxe room with two queen beds with swirly print bed wraps and white embroidered pillows set up against flat headboards that soared up to the ceiling.
Mona already had her hands on the TV remote and was jabbing at it with her index finger, trying to figure out all the functions.
Liddy raced into the bathroom to claim the majority of counter space and was calling back, “Bathroom's tiny for a five-star hotel, but I guess we can make do.”
Hayley sat on the edge of one of the beds, which she was certain she would be sharing with Liddy since Mona was a restless sleeper and tossed and turned between her loud honking when she snored.
Both she and Liddy had picked up earplugs at the Bangor International Airport gift shop before the Bangor to Boston leg of their trip, knowing they would be sharing a room with Mona.
The butterflies in Hayley's stomach were already flapping so hard she had trouble catching her breath.
Liddy sailed out of the bathroom, feeling right at home in the plush accommodations, and noticed Hayley's pale face. She sat down beside Hayley on the bed.
“Honey, you're going to do a great job tomorrow. You have nothing to worry about,” she said. “You're Hayley Powell, food-and-cocktails columnist for the
Island Times
! You're a star!”
Hayley smiled and rested her head on Liddy's shoulder. “Everybody at home is going to be watching and I just don't want to blow it.”
Suddenly it sounded as if a man had burst into the room and was yelling at them, and they both jumped, but it was just Wolf Blitzer on
The Situation Room
.
Mona had found the volume button on the remote.
“Now it's after five, so we all know what that means,” Liddy said.
They all responded in unison.
“Happy hour.”
“Exactly,” Liddy said, standing up and crossing to the desk to pick up the room service menu. “So let's calm our nerves with a cocktail since it seemed to do the trick on that horrific and traumatic flight here. We can also order some snacks and have a fun girls' night in a five-star hotel.”
It sounded heavenly.
And it was.
At least it started out that way.
The freewheeling, loose slumber party began with a round of cosmos because that's what the girls on
Sex and the City
used to drink, according to Liddy. That led to a variety of martinis and a selection of entrées and appetizers from the room service menu, and before long they were cackling and gossiping, and Hayley was feeling much more relaxed and confident about the TV show taping tomorrow, and that's pretty much when the rest of the evening became a blur.
The next thing she knew she was lying on top of the bed wondering where she was as the sun streaked through a crack in the closed curtain and hit her directly in the face.
Hayley wrestled open a bloodshot eye and looked around.
The room was a mess.
Mona was face down on the floor and Liddy was a lump underneath the bed covers.
Or at least she hoped it was Liddy.
The floor was littered with empty food trays.
The minibar was ripped open and emptied.
It was like an all female version of that movie
The Hangover
.
At any moment, she expected a live goat to walk out of the bathroom.
She had no idea when the evening took such a wrong turn. Or what time it was.
Hell, she wasn't even sure what day it was.
And then it hit her so hard she was instantly clear eyed and sober.
It was Friday.
The day of
The Chat
taping.
She popped open her other eye and sat up on the bed, scanning the room for a clock.
She spotted one on the nightstand next to Liddy.
8:45
AM
.
She was due to report to the set of the show at 8:30
AM
for hair and makeup and pre-interview before the 10:00
AM
live taping.
She was already fifteen minutes late.
“Liddy! Mona! Get up! We have to move now!”
She saw the lumpy figure underneath the bed wrap move slightly.
Mona was still passed out, her face hugging the rug, snoring.
Hayley leaped over Mona's body to get to the bathroom and frantically rummaged through her travel case for the eye cream she brought to treat the heavy dark bags underneath her eyes that were heightened now due to her partying the night before.
There was no time for a shower. She would just have to use extra deodorant.
Her hair was an unruly disaster and she prayed the professionals on call at the studio would be able to perform some kind of miracle.
She rummaged through her suitcase for the smart outfit she had chosen for her appearance. She had planned to iron it and make sure it didn't look bunched up and wrinkly.
No such luck.
She never got to it and when she pulled it out it looked as if she had slept in it all night.
There was no time to do anything about it.
She quickly dressed and shot out the door. Liddy and Mona would just have to fend for themselves and find their way to the taping if they were going to watch from the studio audience.
Hayley raced through the lobby and spotted one of the porters by the revolving glass door. “Taxi! I need a taxi!”
He looked a little scared as she ran toward him, eyes wild, hands in the air. He was probably debating whether to hail her a cab or run for his life.
Ever the professional, he scurried out the side door with a whistle and was flagging down a yellow cab as Hayley pushed through the revolving glass door so fast that she banged her shoulder taking too much time to step out into the street.
The porter had the door of a taxi cab open for her, and she practically did a swan dive into the back seat, reaching around to press a five-dollar bill into the porter's white-gloved hand.
“Thank you!” she screamed before turning her attention to a gruff-looking heavyset man behind the wheel smacking his gum and looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else.