“I told you there was good news, didn’t I?” Nigel said. “The speaker they’ve booked is Cosima Fairchild. You know how she loathes public speaking.”
I stood up. “Of course. Do you think she’d give me her spot?”
“It’s done,” he said. “I told them she has a conflict, but that we’re sending the assistant director of the museum instead. They were thrilled.”
“But I’m the assistant to the director.”
“Semantics, my child,” Nigel insisted. “Cosima’s been going to a hypnotist for weeks trying to prepare for this. Last night she was in sackcloth and ashes over it. You’ve done her an enormous service.”
“Thank you so much. And I can bring a companion?” This would be my chance to take Pops on the Roman holiday he’d always promised me.
“That’s the arrangement. Every cabin is a suite, so your father can sleep in the living room while you’re in the bedroom. Wait’ll you see the ship. It’s sooooo luxurious. And you get a butler.”
“A butler! What do I do with a butler?”
“Whatever you want,” Nigel said. “He’ll help you unpack, iron your clothes, bring you tea, caviar, champagne, anything your charming little heart desires.”
I started to skip around Nigel’s office. “I’m getting champagne, I’m getting caviar, I’m getting a butler, I get to live like a moo-vie star…”
“You have to give three talks,” Nigel said. “Don’t forget that.”
“Pish,” I said, waving my hands as though that were nothing. “I wrote the presentations.” Then it hit me. “I haven’t got a stitch to wear. Neither does Pops.”
“Darling, you’ll borrow some pieces from the vault.”
“I don’t know,” I fretted.
“Relax. We’ll choose dresses that can take the wear and tear.”
“But what about Pops?” I asked. “He owns one suit, from the Salvation Army; he needs a serious bath, a haircut, a shave, a…”
“An extreme makeover, eh?” Nigel said, stroking his chin in Sigmund Freud–like fashion.
“The works.”
“Well, you needn’t fear, because I am queer,” he said. “I have an eye for this sort of thing. It’ll be fun.”
“Right,” I laughed. “The Queer Eye.”
“Exactly,” Nigel said. “And I have contacts at every men’s fashion house in Manhattan. Your father will be the best-dressed passenger on the ship. Just get me his measurements.”
“I’ll take them tonight,” I said, jumping up and hugging Nigel. “I love you so much. You’re my guardian angel.”
Nigel corrected me. “Puh-leaze, luv, I’m your fairy godmother.”
It Ain’t Necessarily So
SAMMIE AND I SAT in the visitor seats across from Tanya’s desk. “Nice counterfeit purse you’re carrying,” she whispered. “If you ever want something real, I have some bags set aside for Goodwill.”
“Thank you, no, I’d rather chew glass. You’re brave to be seen in last season’s Ferragamos,” I muttered, nodding toward her shoes.
“Is that Dana Buchman you’re wearing?” Sammie sneered. “Where’d you get it? Dress Barn?”
No, it’s vintage Mary Quant from Corny’s closet, I thought. Lucky for Sammie I could be fired for wearing it, otherwise I would have called her on her clueless remark.
Tanya swung her leather executive swivel chair around to face us. She shuffled a few piles on her desk, and then gazed at me with a stony expression.
Okay, sparring practice was over. Clearing my throat, I started, “I just wanted to tell to you both that I’m sorry about what happened earlier.”
“You should be,” Tanya said, straightening some papers. “That was unforgivable. I’m stripping you of your senior assistant status. You’re back to being my regular assistant.”
Sammie’s lips curled in a triumphant smirk.
This was going to be harder than I thought. I took a sip of water. “Tanya, I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. Alessandro was arrested. Then we broke up. It’s no secret I was disappointed about not getting that promotion.”
“After yesterday’s performance, can you see that I made the right decision?” Tanya said. “This is a small museum. We needed Denis King. Your little mistake could cost us millions.”
“I’m not sure we’ll ever recover,” Sammie said sadly. She looked as though she might cry. “Did you see Extra last night? The whole ugly mess was broadcast for the world to see. That story was supposed to be about me and my life as a top socialite, but instead it was about you and your stupid mistake.”
“You’re right,” I said, “and I never want to screw up like that again. If I could just take time away, heal, I could come back fresh—”
“Now. You want time off?” Tanya said. “Now?”
“No, no. Not time off. I have an opportunity to sail on a cruise and speak on behalf of the museum starting September fifteenth. After all that’s happened, it would be a break for me. I could come back rested, ready to pull my weight.”
“Who said you could represent the museum like that?” Tanya demanded, her back stiffening. “I certainly didn’t.”
“And wouldn’t.” Sammie sniffed.
“It’s an opportunity,” I said. “I’m asking your permission. Yes, I messed up this week, but think of all the good work I’ve done for you and the museum in the past.”
“What about Tiaras through Time? It’s opening at the end of the month,” Tanya said.
“You are stripped of that responsibility,” Sammie declared. “After what you did, we don’t want you anywhere near Denis King.”
Tanya flashed a searing look at Sammie.
“You agree, don’t you?” Sammie backpedaled. “Holly’s done enough damage. I can be the liaison with Mr. King.”
“Yes, you be the liaison,” I agreed. “My work for the show is done. I’d be back by the twenty-fifth. The opening’s the thirtieth, in case you want me to do anything. In the background, I mean.”
“You’d be rewarding bad behavior,” Sammie trilled.
“Okay, go,” Tanya said, giving Sammie a frigid stare. “We could all use some space. Sammie, you can fill in for Holly while she’s gone.” She dismissed us with a wave.
“Oh, Tanya,” I said, as though I just remembered something. “This cruise is on the Tiffany line. There’ll be a boatload of wealthy passengers on
