YOURS TRULY,
RENATA E. RUIZ
PART 2Uptown Wife
We’ll Always Have Paris
Last week was a good session. I don’t think I have ever interviewed someone who is so direct. It saves a lot of time. It was nice skiing, too. I saw your Master of the Universe instincts let loose on the double diamonds. Usually they lie under the cover of your regular-guy thing, which is very disarming, by the way. You will have to tell me more about how you got back on those steep slopes after your accident. But maybe we should take a break for a few weeks. I have enough material to work on. I can see you have your hands full with Christy’s situation. Michael, I have an idea. Why not call Jerome Fudderman and ask him to help? He has successfully repackaged a lot of powerful people after they crashed and burned. Let’s face it. At this point, her status affects you. Galit
Don’t agree with your premise. But I do like your suggestion. The skiing was great. I couldn’t live without it, so I had to get my nerve back. It was that simple. Michael
Michael had arranged for a candlelit dinner to be served on the terrace of their suite overlooking the Tuileries at the Hôtel de Crillon. A violinist stood in the candlelight playing soft classical music.
“I love escargot,” Christy said. “The first time I tried it was on a dare at an Olympic dinner. Here, taste,” she said, stabbing a succulent morsel and feeding it to her husband.
“Mmm,” he said, “chewy yet delicious. Just for that, I have a surprise for you.”
“What?”
“Tomorrow morning, I’m taking you on an eight-hour shopping spree. You can buy anything you want, anything at all, for eight hours. We’ll start at Avenue Montaigne and see where that leads us.”
“Oooh, sounds fun. I need to get a simple Mikimoto pearl necklace to go with my new Colby Mommy wardrobe.”
“Does it have to be Mikimoto?” Michael asked. “Who would even know?”
“Honey, nothing gets past the Mommy Mafia,” Christy said.
“Sounds awful. Like a uniform,” Michael said, indignant that he should be bankrolling her new neutered look. He had in mind spike-heeled boots, Versace dresses, sexy lingerie.
“It is, kind of. But I want to fit in, you know? I’m watching the Colby moms to learn the best practices for raising a daughter in Manhattan.” Christy reached behind her chair for her jacket, then slipped it on. The night air had gotten chilly.
“Honey, I’m not sure best practices applies to raising kids,” Michael said.
“Au contraire, monsieur. I’ve already learned a lot. Did you know that Colby moms give their nannies lists of permissible nonstructured outings they can take with their kids? You know, places like the Frick, the Metropolitan Museum, the Planetarium. I’m going to do that with Nectar.”
“Sounds like a good way to bore the kid to death. And I thought Nectar was leaving.”
“No, well, maybe. I’m hoping to convince her to stay.”
“How are you doing that?”
“First, I’m trying to charm her. If that doesn’t work, I’ll beg. Money doesn’t move her, but she cares about Renata. And she’s worried about my mothering capabilities, although every day I learn more. For instance, Andrea told me that every Colby mom gets her portrait done in oil. And portraits of her kids, too. They all use the same artist. What do you think? Should I do it?”
“Sure, if you’re naked,” Michael said, smiling.
“Michael. You’re such an animal. That reminds me, now that I’m not working, I’m gonna be your full-time sex slave.”
“Did you learn that from the Colby moms?”
“Oh, God, no. Andrea thinks that only women who look like they never have sex—except for procreating, of course—can ever be fully accepted into the Colby power elite.”
“Did you know that the only Barnes and Noble store where sex books don’t sell is on the Upper East Side of Manhattan?” Michael said. “That’s a fact.”
“Really? Well, I’m a downtown girl at heart,” Christy purred.
Michael came over and gave his wife a slow, sexy kiss.
“Delicious garlic,” Christy said.
“You’re not leaving that piece, are you?” Michael asked.
“Open wide,” Christy said, and fed him the last snail.
Michael got serious. “Christy, I know how upset you are about losing the company. But selfishly, I’m happy to have you to myself for the first time.”
“I know. It’s just sad, that’s all. I worked so hard to build that company, and to walk away with nothing…”
“Think of it this way. If you hadn’t started Baby G, you wouldn’t have been at Davos. If you hadn’t been at Davos, we wouldn’t have found each other. You didn’t walk away empty-handed.”
“That’s true. I got first prize. It’s just…I’m worried that you won’t find me as interesting now that I’m not the big-time player I used to be.”
“Beegee, you’ve done the warrior thing. You’ve made a name for yourself in athletics. You’ve kicked ass in the world of men. For the first time in your life, relax. Let me take care of you. We can travel, run, climb mountains, enjoy each other.”
“You’re right. It’ll be great. You’re
