office shaken and pale. He missed Norman, the young production assistant who had been killed. And other staff members were missing too, which they all noticed. Valerie had also lost a cameraman from her show, in addition to Marilyn. There had been a service in the lobby for the victims several weeks before. All the employees and families had attended and Dawn had come with her and cried, even though she hadn’t worked there when it happened. She felt a special bond to Marilyn, through all that Valerie said about her. It was still a hard time for them all, but everyone was doing their best to put the experience behind them and move on. And no one liked talking about it at work. It was too real.

The night before they left for the Super Bowl weekend Jack reminded Valerie again of everything she needed, and all the parties they were going to. There were events every night and throughout the day. She had done a very funny broadcast on her own show, saying that after years of telling people how to do Super Bowl parties, she was actually going to the game to see for herself.

There was going to be coverage of her there too. Her attendance and Jack’s, and particularly together, were major media events for the network, and they planned to take full advantage of it. Jack was actually going to interview her briefly during one of his broadcasts. And Valerie needed clothes for every appearance, every party, and the game, since she would be televised there too. She had three valises packed to take with her on the corporate plane. The head of the network and his wife were flying down with them.

“Three valises?” Jack said, sounding shocked when she told him. “Are you kidding? I’m only taking one, and I’m on air every day.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need coats, shoes, and matching purses,” she answered glibly.

“Christ, Valerie, the girls I usually take to the Super Bowl wear a miniskirt and a rhinestone bra.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Well, you can still take one of those. It’s not too late.”

“I’ll go for the coats and matching bags. At least you won’t throw up all over me when you get drunk on beer.”

“Now, there’s a plus.” She chuckled. She was actually excited about going now. They were flying to Miami in the morning and staying at the Ritz-Carlton in South Beach. She hadn’t been to Miami in years. And this was clearly a major event in American culture that she had never paid much attention to before. It was totally out of her realm. He had already been briefing her on football for several weeks. She knew the names of the important players, both coaches, and could identify some of the plays by the correct terms, after he explained them to her with the help of taped games and replays. She had paid attention and learned her lessons well. And Greg, his son, was coming down from Boston with three friends and meeting them there, but staying at a different hotel. As little as Jack said his son cared about sports, he still loved coming to the Super Bowl. It reminded him of when he was a little kid and watched his dad play.

Jack picked her up in a limo on Friday morning at six o’clock, and they were at Teterboro at seven to board the network’s corporate jet. Bob Lattimer, the head of the network, was there, looking excited and relaxed, with his wife, Janice. She was from Texas and knew everything there was to know about football. By sheer coincidence, her father had been a college football coach, and she continued Valerie’s education on the flight, while picking her brain for suggestions for their daughter’s wedding in June. It was a fair trade.

Jack and Bob talked football all the way down. They talked about the team they were sure would win, the best players, the teams’ weaknesses and strengths. Valerie felt as though she was taking a total immersion course as she smiled across the aisle at Jack. She had worn white slacks, white Chanel flats with gold tips, and a blue cashmere twinset, and was carrying a white cashmere coat, with diamond studs on her ears. She looked as though she had stepped off the pages of Vogue.

“You look gorgeous!” Jack whispered to her, as they walked off the plane, and a flock of photographers took their picture. It had all been set up in advance. The network wanted to take full advantage of their two big stars. “Thanks for being such a good sport,” Jack said, as they came down the stairs from the plane. She knew what she’d been getting into, and she had agreed. It wasn’t a surprise or an ambush. It was all prearranged and approved by her as to how it would happen. And Jack looked equally handsome in a blazer, open blue shirt, gray slacks, and alligator shoes without socks, since the weather was warm. He looked sexy and totally at ease, and was able to stand to his full height again, which was impressive. For the photos, he got rid of the cane. And he looked tall and powerfully built as he stood next to Valerie in the photographs. They talked to the press briefly, and he said that Valerie was their visiting dignitary, and was going to lend some class to the event, as all the reporters laughed. There was no implication that there was any kind of romance between them. No one would have thought it. They were just two major network personalities coming to the Super Bowl, and he was the star sportscaster for the game, as he always was. This was where Jack shined. Valerie loved seeing him in his element, and had new respect for him as she saw how knowledgeable and competent he was.

A limousine was waiting to take the two of them to the hotel, and Bob and Janice Lattimer went to a fully staffed house on Palm Island that had been rented for them for the weekend.

It was a half-hour ride from Signature Aviation at the airport to the hotel. And when they got to the Ritz- Carlton, there was more press. It was apparently a big deal that Valerie Wyatt was there. Other stars would show up for the weekend, but her presence was definitely making a big splash.

She knew from their schedule that they were attending a luncheon at The Restaurant, and there would be a press conference before it where Jack was expected to speak. She didn’t have to do anything except be there, and he had meetings that afternoon. She was hoping to do some shopping on her own. Dawn had surprised her and said she knew Miami, and had told her where to go.

Jack had an enormous suite, and she had a similar one across the hall from him. The living room of hers was handsomely decorated, with a beautiful view of Miami and the ocean, and the bedroom was comfortable and huge too. He came across the hall to check on her and make sure she was settling in. He looked distracted and busy, but was attentive to her in spite of it.

“Everything good, Valerie? The way you want it?” he asked, looking concerned.

“It’s terrific,” she said, beaming at him. “I’m feeling very spoiled.” He was impressed that she was so easy about things. He knew that some women as important as she was behaved like divas and nothing was ever good enough. Valerie was appreciative of everything the network did, and loved her suite. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” she offered.

“Yeah,” he said, looking tired as he sat down. The leg was bothering him, although he didn’t want to admit it, and he was more tired than he had expected to be. He didn’t have all his strength back yet, although he looked great. “Go to these meetings for me. I’ll go down to the pool and sleep.” She laughed at the suggestion, and he came back half an hour later to pick her up, and by then she had changed. She was wearing a pink silk dress and high heels for the lunch. It was sexy and pretty, but in good taste. The women he usually brought with him had to be carefully monitored so they didn’t embarrass him wearing see-through dresses, and a thong to the pool. It was a lot easier having Valerie along, and a whole different scene.

They arrived at the luncheon in a white limousine, and Jack was part of the press conference, as expected, talking about what the fans could look forward to and how he thought the game would play out. And they got just a brief clip of Valerie and asked her what she thought of the Super Bowl so far, and she said she thought it was just great. They didn’t need more from her than that.

After lunch, her own car picked her up, a white Escalade, and she disappeared to Bal Harbour, and browsed through all her favorite shops, everything from Dolce & Gabbana to Dior and Cartier. The shopping center was terrific, and she did a fair amount of damage and bought three bathing suits, a pair of sandals, and two sweaters, and then went back to the hotel for a massage.

She didn’t see Jack again until seven, when he stopped by her room, and with a loud groan lay down on the couch in her suite. He was so tall, his feet hung off the end.

“God, I’m beat, and it hasn’t even started yet.” He knew the next few days would be insane. They always were.

“Do you have time to take a nap?” she asked, with a look of concern. She was wearing a white terrycloth robe and looked relaxed after her massage. She’d had an easy afternoon.

“Not really,” he answered. They had to leave in half an hour for a cocktail party. Some of the big football players would be there, and he had to attend. Jack had a double role here, as a retired Hall of Fame player, and as a star sportscaster, and he had to go a lot of places to wear both hats. He forced himself back off the couch a minute later, and went to his own room to get dressed. He would much rather have stayed in the suite with her, ordered dinner, and watched a movie on TV. But there was no chance of that.

Вы читаете Happy Birthday: A Novel
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

1

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату