Tanya burst out laughing. Sammie giggled. I didn’t see what was so funny.
“Holly, you’ve got to be kidding,” Tanya said, wiping a tear from her eye.
“Is she too much, or what?” Sammie said.
“I’m serious,” I said. “I deserve this chance.”
“Are you mad? You want me to promote you?” Tanya said.
“If I prove to be a rainmaker, yes.”
Tanya gave me a look of pity. “Holly, these things take time and finesse. You don’t just meet a big fish and waltz off with a check. It takes years to secure a seven-figure donation. If you were of this world, you’d know this.”
“I’ve seen it with my parents,” Sammie explained. “There’s an art to separating a rich man from his pocketbook, a slow dance that takes place. The rich are a special breed. If you’re not brought up in their milieu, you’ll always be an outsider. To gain their trust for donation purposes, you must come from within, and you never will. That’s why you can’t be a curator. Do you get it now?”
Sammie looked at me expectantly, as though she was waiting for me to slap my forehead and say, “Thank you. Hearing you explain it to me that way makes me realize for the first time how crazy my desire was. Finally I see the light.”
Ignoring Sammie, I turned to Tanya. “Please, I know it’s a long shot, but humor me. Let’s say I do come back with a seven-figure check. Would you promote me?”
“No way,” Sammie said, rolling her eyes. She turned to Tanya. “If you ask me, Holly has some nerve to make such a ridiculous request.”
“I don’t recall anyone asking you,” I said.
Tanya regarded Sammie with cold speculation.
“You won’t promote her, right?” Sammie said. “After her mistake? How can you ever trust her?”
“Sammie, when you saw the name Penis King in the presentation, didn’t that raise a red flag?” Tanya asked.
“I just assumed…”
“What? You assumed that was his name?” Tanya said incredulously. “Thirteen years at Spence and you honestly believed a woman from a socially prominent family on the Upper East Side of Manhattan would name her son Penis?”
It was my turn to smirk, but I didn’t because I’m too polite.
Tanya looked me in the eye and smiled wickedly. “You’re on, Holly. You bring me a million-dollar check, I’ll give you Sammie’s job. I’ll even double your salary.”
Sammie bolted from her chair. “What!”
“Triple,” I said. “You’d have to triple my salary if I brought in that much. I know what the curators make.”
“Yes, I suppose I would,” Tanya said thoughtfully.
“What? Huh, no! Excuse me, hello-oh!” Sammie was having a connipshit over this unexpected turn of events. “You can’t do that. My mother is a trustee…”
“I giveth and I taketh,” Tanya said. “You were hired over Holly because your mother assured me you could bring in donations. Well, we just lost a huge fish. Holly’s to blame, but so are you. Whoever brings me a million-dollar check first is my new curator. The loser can be my assistant.”
Sammie looked at me with loathing.
“But she can’t get the money from her mother,” I said. “That wouldn’t be fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Holly,” Sammie said, “or haven’t you noticed?”
Oh, I’ve noticed all right.
Tanya nodded. “Holly’s right. Your mother’s already a donor. Find someone else.” She extended her hand. “Shake?”
“No,” Sammie cried. “It’s not fair. If I lose, I lose my job. If Holly loses, she keeps the job she already has.”
“Life’s not fair, Sammie,” I said, “or haven’t you noticed?”
Sammie screwed her face up like a cross child. Apparently she was not familiar with the concept of setbacks. It’s so satisfying when things go badly for snot-brained she-devils like Sammie Kittenplatt, who have never had to struggle for anything in life besides staying a size two.
Finally, Sammie thrust her hand toward mine and shook.
“Trust me, you will fail,” Sammie said as we left the office.
“Just you wait, Sammie Kittenplatt. Just you wait,” I said.
Fools Rush In
I STUCK MY NOSE IN Nigel’s office. He was finishing up a call. Closing the door behind me, I cried, “We have liftoff!” I jumped on his couch and danced the Tom Cruise. “Tanya said I could go. Yippee! She promised to make me a curator and triple my salary if I come back with a million-dollar check before Sammie does. Double yippee!” I told Nigel everything.
“That’s brilliant!” Nigel said.
“Do you think I’ll do it?” I cried.
“Not a bloody chance in hell.”
“Shut up,” I said, jumping off the sofa. “Really? You don’t think I can? Oh, but I have to. I will! I’m gonna get that check from Denis King. Ooh, I can just imagine Tanya’s face when I bring him back as a benefactor.”
“There’ll be lots of rich people on board. Why go after him?” Nigel said. “Didn’t you see how ticked he was when he left?”
“He’ll cool off,” I said. “He was such a gentleman when he rescued me from the rain. And did you see how he insisted on meeting and thanking everyone at the museum before the presentation? Have you ever seen a named donor do that? I haven’t. No, I intend to devote my not-inconsiderable talents to the immediate solicitation of a million-dollar donation from Mr. Denis King for our beloved museum. Tanya will be totally impressed.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“You’re so negative.”
“All Sammie has to do is call a few wealthy relatives. You’re screwed, my friend,” Nigel said.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” I said.
“You asked my opinion,” Nigel said.
“So lie. Give me hope.”
“Let’s not fight, luv,” Nigel said, tilting his head and curling his lower lip. “I know just what you need.”
“What?”
“Retail therapeeee! We’ll go shopping in the vault and select your wardrobe for the cruise.”
“Not today, Nigel,” I said. “I’m beat.”
“Don’t be a bore. C’mon,” Nigel insisted. “It’ll be a hoot. Besides, haven’t you noticed all those pesky security guards
