Christy smiled shyly. She didn’t feel like the person Dr. Harris was describing. But maybe the doctor was right when she singled her out of the luncheon crowd. Maybe Michael did want her by his side for her intellect and accomplishments. Of course, it was kind of hard to hear that she didn’t qualify as arm candy.
Dial “S” for Snoop
Renata waited until Christy was gone before sneaking into the library. First, Christy was going to some luncheon. Then she was meeting with Mrs. Smart for Renata’s parent-teacher conference. She would be safe for at least a few hours. To her surprise, Ali was curled up on the couch reading Cosmo—not Teen Cosmo, normal Cosmo. She didn’t acknowledge Renata’s presence.
Fine, Renata thought. Ignore me as usual. She turned on the computer and went right to AOL. Michael’s e-mail address came up, but the password space was blank. C-H-R-I-ST-Y, she typed in. Ta-da! She opened Michael’s mailbox to see what she could learn. He’d been gone for days, and Christy refused to talk about it. Renata knew she could be arrested for this, but she just had to find out what was going on.
Most of the communications were from either Christy or Galit. Skipping over the mail about Viagra, debt consolidation, and adult XXX specials, she began opening the messages between Michael and Christy. Until the day he left, they were all friendly. The older ones were just plain mushy and gross. Christy had sent Michael a few notes about Renata. He always said the same thing: it’s your choice. Whatever you decide is okay with me. This confirmed what Renata suspected. Michael didn’t care about her. She bit her lip and tried not to think about it.
“What are you up to in there, child?” Nectar was standing in the doorway.
“Nothing. Homework.”
Nectar walked in and looked over her shoulder. What she saw didn’t register. Renata was grateful that her nanny didn’t know anything about computers. “Mmm-mmm-mmm, we didn’t have those when I was a child,” she said, clucking her tongue. “What do you want for dinner tonight?” Nectar asked. Christy hadn’t cooked one thing since the shrimp-and-lobster-gumbo debacle.
“How about Shake ’n Bake?”
“Shake ’n Bake? I’ll pick some up at the store.” Now that Yok Wah was gone, so were the fresh, healthy meals.
Ali looked up from her magazine. “Shake ’n Bake? What are you? Trailer trash?”
Renata started to respond, but Nectar beat her to it. Snatching the magazine out of Ali’s hands, she lit into the girl. “I’ll have you know, child, some of the finest people I ever met grew up in trailers ’cause that’s all their families could afford. Trash isn’t where you come from; it’s how you behave.”
“Then I guess we know who’s trash in this room,” Renata said, happy that someone finally stood up to Ali.
“Shut up, Snot Breath,” Ali said.
“I know you are, but what am I?” Renata said.
Ali rolled her eyes. “I want my Cosmo, Nectar,” she declared.
“Sorry, you can’t have it,” she said. “Child, you have no business reading this magazine. What do you need to know about ‘his secret sex zones’? You’re too young.”
“Hello-oh! I’m sixteen,” Ali said.
“Sixteen! ‘It is common for the younger sort to lack discretion,’” Nectar said. “That’s from Hamlet.”
Ali got up and stormed out of the room. “Hamlet,” she shouted behind her, “Who’s he? Some trailer-trash friend of yours?”
“Ali, Ali, Ali,” Nectar said, shaking her head as she walked away.
Renata turned to the screen. Professional that she was, she refused to let the fight between Ali and Nectar distract her from her mission. Checking out the e-mails between Galit and Michael, she saw they were mostly about the book. Galit would ask him a question and he’d answer it, like an interview. There were a few notes that Michael wrote to Galit about Christy. Hmmph, she thought, Michael shouldn’t be talking to Galit about Christy. It isn’t right. Whoa! The newer mail was juicier. Galit was flirting with Michael. Then Renata found the smoking gun:
Galit, could you call me? I’m thinking about a new strategy for the TV side of my business, and I’d like your advice. I need a sounding board on some issues. Would you mind? My beautiful wife is momentarily distracted by cupcakes. I’m assuming she will come to her senses soon. MD
OK, I will call in a couple of hours. I am really looking forward to Aspen, a chance to spend a little more time together. You know, Michael, working on this book with you has meant a lot to me. You aren’t the average run-of-the-mill alpha male. Galit
Galit, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me with the book. But our Aspen meeting will be strictly business. As I’ve told you before, Christy is the love of my life. Let’s leave it at that. Michael
Renata spun in circles on the ergonomic swivel chair as she printed the telltale e-mails. My work here is done, she thought proudly. Now it’s all up to Christy.
Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Renata sat on the edge of the bed watching Christy pack. Ali sat across from her, in the easy chair, flipping through Glamour.
“How long will you be in Aspen?” Renata asked.
“A few days, maybe a week,” Christy said. “Nectar will watch you both.”
“I don’t need to be watched. I’m sixteen,” Ali said.
“All the more reason for Nectar to watch you,” Christy said.
Ali rolled her eyes without taking her face out of the magazine.
“You’ll miss my chorus recital,” Renata said.
“Damn,” Christy said slapping her forehead. “Pardon my French. Mrs. Smart’ll kill me, won’t she?”
“I’ll make up an excuse, don’t worry. You have to go see Michael.” Renata had given the revealing e-mail to Christy. She felt she had no choice. Christy was about to blow her marriage. And
