“Darn. And to think I was going to run out tonight and get a Mohawk and have eyeliner tattooed on,” I said.
She refused to see any humor in my joke and just continued in her stuffy businesslike tone that matched the hard lines of her tailor-made suit, “When the interview begins, you’re to let Luke do most of the talking, but chime in during the bit about your father. We only need a couple sentences about his diagnosis and his struggle, and be sure to mention that this is his dream for you. Try to seem sad and a little reluctant to accept all the attention.”
“That won’t be hard,” I said flatly.
“Great. We’ll touch on why you reached out to Luke, because he and your dad were close. We’ll tell everyone how he just swept in like a prince…” She paused and quickly wrote something down on her clipboard. “Yes! Say that, ‘like a prince.’” She then paused again and just stared at me, as if she was making sure that I understood my orders.
I obliged and wrote “Like a prince” on a sticky note, then drew a little crown beneath it.
“Very good. Tell them that he made everything perfect, so you can have your fairytale that every little girl dreams of.”
“Like a fairytale. Got it,” I said.
“Luke, that fairytale remark will be your cue for nonverbal compassion. Just tilt your head when she’s talking, offer her a tissue, and you can even pat her hand if you’d like. Don’t overdo it with the affection. This is a good Samaritan blitz, not a royal wedding,” she said.
I snorted and looked down at the floor, only to be annoyed further by her gaudy, overpriced shoes.
“Thank you, Liz. I think we’ve got it.”
“Not so hasty, young man. We have four more slides to go through,” she clicked, summoning the next slide to the screen. “This is a mock-up of how you’ll be seated. I want Luke on the outside, farthest from the hosts. This will bookend you, Julia, and create an unspoken connotation of protection. Julia, look at Luke frequently and defer to him. Try to show rapport.”
“Okay.” I nodded and dutifully scribbled, “Look at him” on my sticky note, placing black blotches in the O’s to make them look like eyeballs.
“Cross your legs at the ankle. Whatever you do, don’t rest your heels on the stool rung, and don’t cross at the knee. We’re going for a bit of…innocence and naïveté here.”
I nodded.
“Luke, jacket but no tie, collar button undone,” she advised.
He nodded, tapping away on his tablet.
She droned on and on about the rest of the slides, giving us absurd instructions for every word we’d speak and every slight gesture we’d make.
“I have a question, Liz,” I said before we walked out.
“Yes?”
“Is there some sort of contingency plan if one of us has to sneeze?”
“Julia!” Luke said, then grabbed me by the elbow and hustled me out of the room in a hurry.
When we left the office and reentered the elevator, I burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny, JJ. These people are professionals, and they’re serious. Image is very important to them. I have a feeling that if you rest your heels on that stool rung, she’ll kill you with a stick.”
“Well, she’s got a big enough one up her ass,” I snapped.
He laughed. “Oh, Liz is okay. She’s just one of those dragon lady types. They’re pretty common in this city and in this company. You don’t even wanna know what she’ll do if you cross your legs at the knee or undo an extra button. Seriously, she’s a pro, and she knows how the public responds to certain nuances. I know she can be a little over the top though,” he said. “Are you okay? I told her to take it easy about mentioning your dad.”
“It upsets me, but it’s real. It’s not like I’m going to be surprised when someone brings it up. That’s the point of all this anyway. We wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t…” I stopped myself, unable to say the horrible words again. “Thanks for today, Luke,” I said sincerely. “I’ve had fun, and under the circumstances, that’s fairly shocking.”
When we arrived at my apartment and I got out, he smiled through the window at me. “Have fun trying on those dresses. See you in the morning,” he said. “I’ll send a car.”
“A girl could get used to this, you know,” I said.
“And no girl deserves it more.”
I smiled and walked away.
Chapter 7
We met for breakfast at the local diner by my apartment.
“Tomorrow we’re doing
The Today Show
,” Luke said, looking at the calendar.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m guessing that’s what the other two dresses are for. She wants me to pick one. Decisions, decisions. I’ll wear the solid blue one tomorrow. Now button up the collar, you slut,” I teased.
“Want to go out for a drink?”
“Excuse me?”
“I feel like a drink.”
“I’d love to have a drink and take some of the edge off. It’s, like, nine thirty in the morning though.”
“I know the perfect place,” he said.
Within minutes, we were stepping into a private elevator to his apartment.
I couldn’t stop staring at his beautiful penthouse. My gaze drifted around, and I admired the incredibly massive wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows. The panoramic view of the Big Apple really blew my mind; the New York City skyline was right there, so close it looked like artwork adorning his walls in high-def 3D. I stared at the unrivaled views of the park and the cityscape. It was absolutely magical, and I was sure it was even more stunning all lit up at night. Tilting my head, I even saw a landscaped terrace with a hot tub. His place was absolutely gorgeous and mind-blowing, especially with all the sunlight flooding in.
“I have booze and a DVR,” Luke said. “We can watch your television debut and drink to it.”
“I just know I’ve gotta get out of these shoes,” I announced, unbuckling them and kicking them across the room. “Do you have a t-shirt I can borrow, preferably something that cost less than $400?”
“You’re already taking off your clothes? And here I thought you’d be all puritanical about coming up to my penthouse.” He left me in the colossal living room and came back with a t-shirt.
“This is the softest shirt I’ve ever felt. Don’t even tell me what it cost. I’m assuming it’s the official t-shirt of Trumpland.”
“No, but we do have a line of Trumpland tees. This one doesn’t even have the logo.”
“Please tell me there’s not really a theme park.”
He laughed. “There’s not. A variety of casino and luxury resort properties, but no theme park…yet,” he said.
I disappeared into the bathroom and dropped the tight, overly pink shift on the floor and slipped into Luke’s t-shirt. It was too big, impossibly soft, and light blue. I couldn’t help thinking that he’d worn it himself, that the very fabric that was touching me had covered his shoulders, his chest. It felt odd, but I smiled as I padded out, barefoot, to settle down on his huge leather couch facing the stunning city view. “Nice place you got here,” I said.
Luke handed me a glass with an inch of whiskey in the bottom.
I swirled the amber liquid around, shut my eyes, and took a drink. The burn in my throat made me feel alive. Tears stung my eyes, and I handed him the empty glass. When he raised his eyebrows, I quickly nodded once. I scooted away when he sat down beside me to pour me another drink, and then I curled up in the corner, next to the padded arm of the couch.
“I’m not gonna bite you,” he said, trying to make light of things.
“He’s not going to make it, Luke,” I said, almost unable to sputter the words.
“I know, JJ. I know it’s hard, but we have to face the truth. Sometimes, there’s just nothing we can do. We have to try to be brave, like he is.”
“Why can’t I have a miracle? Why does it have to be him,
my
dad?” I demanded, my voice skating upward into a whine. I downed the second drink and set the glass steadily on the glass coffee table.
“I know it doesn’t seem fair. I mean, it could be my dad, the bastard that he is. If it was, I doubt anyone would be crying about it.”
“Is he really that bad?”
“Bad? No. Absent? Yes. He didn’t even come to my graduation at Yale. No one was there for me. Thousands of people in the audience, and not one of them knew me.” He shook his head.
“Not even your mom?”
“She was conveniently busy. When she has to choose between the two of us, she chooses not to cross him.”
“And you still bought them a house?”
“I love them. You know my dad loves me, but sometimes we don’t get along. I wasn’t made in his image. I don’t have the same values. He says I don’t take life seriously enough.”
“You seem to have done all right for yourself, serious or not,” I said, motioning around. “I mean, just look at this place. He should be proud of you. I am.”
“He is proud of me even if he doesn’t show it. He said if I knew what was good for me, I would have settled down and had a family and bought a house by now, instead of renting an apartment and traveling all over the world like I was never going to grow up. He wanted me to stay in Missouri and marry you. He wanted grandchildren. He’s pissed I left to chase my career.”
Guess that makes two of us
, I thought. But still… Luke went out and conquered the world. It was an amazing feat.
“Yeah, I’m sure loads of parents would be really disappointed to see their son mentored by Donald freaking Trump,” I said. “I mean, how dare you have a high-powered job, with your own helicopter and a steam shower and everything that goes with it?”
“So you noticed that in the bathroom, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m so jealous over that,” I said, trying to make him smile and pull him out of his bitter thoughts.
“Wanna watch your TV performance?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said, even though it was a lie. I really had no desire to see it, as it was really just a bunch of scripted nonsense meant to make Luke look good.
He picked up the remote, and a big projection TV came down from the ceiling. Soon, there we were on the screen, larger than life.
“I’ve gotta hand it to Liz,” I said. “That busy, preppy-looking dress filmed well.”
“Yeah, she knows what she’s doing, even if she is annoying.”
I did like how I looked in the breezy, light pink dress with a touch of watercolor green. Luke looked perfect, and until we watched the video, I didn’t realize he’d even held my hand to lead me on set. I cringed at how loud I was when I answered questions, and I felt my ass looked big as I was perched atop that stool; my ample hips seemed to fill the entire space between armrests. Even more noticeable was the way I continued staring at Luke while we sat there in those stools, whether he was talking or not.
“I guess I took Liz’s directive seriously. I just stared at you the whole time, like some big goof. I look pathetic.”
“No, you look…adoring. I like it,” he said.
“You would,” I said, elbowing him.
We watched the whole segment, which was only about six minutes long, but I stared earnestly at Luke practically the entire time. When he took my hand onscreen, he looked at me the same way.
Sighing, I reached for the remote and paused the show.
“What?” he asked, looking at me.
“Thank you, Luke, for everything. I mean it,” I said. “It’s weird to watch this, but it shows me that you really do care. Either that or you’re one hell of an actor.”
“I can’t take credit for that. I was trained by the PR team,” he said. “I do care though. Speaking of which, I think we should order some food so you don’t pass out. You put away some serious whiskey just now.”
“I can handle it,” I said. “I feel warmer than I have in months. It’s almost like I’ve been shivering cold ever since the day Dad got his diagnosis.”
Luke reached over to the other end of the couch and grabbed his cashmere throw. He spread it over my bare legs and tucked me in. “Take a nap. You’re going through a lot. I’ll order some food.”
I wanted to tell him no, but the warmth of the whiskey was already lulling me into a deep sleep. I nestled down under the blanket, reached for his hand, and just held it as my eyes closed and I drifted off.
Chapter 8
I woke up crying, but that was not really so uncommon anymore. I was encumbered by textbook abandonment dreams, envisioning that I was trying to catch up with my father, but he wouldn’t turn around. In my dreams, he couldn’t hear me, and even when I screamed to warn him, he just met his doom by walking out in front of a car or even being picked up by a giant eagle or something more absurd. Now, though, I wasn’t facing my nightmare alone; instead, I was in Luke’s posh apartment, overlooking Midtown, curled up on a sofa that cost more than my entire net worth. My own sobs woke me, all those piteous cries of, “No!”