Alexandra Waring (48 page)

She looked back at Cassy. “I think I just want to acknowledge something before 1—” She started blinking, rapidly. “I wanted to tell you that I love you very much. And that I’ve never regretted what happened between us—” Her voice faltered and she tried to smile, blinking even faster.

“Oh, sweetheart-I know,” Cassy said, smiling, giving her a brief hug. Then she stepped back and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I love you too,” she said.

Alexandra looked at her. “Do you really think it’s going to be okay?”

“Oh, yes,” Cassy said, nodding. “It’s going to be just fine.”

“And you’ll always be my friend?”

Cassy smiled. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

Alexandra sighed, smiling. “Well, you better be,” she suddenly declared. “Particularly if you’ve got your hat in the ring to be president of DBS. You know,” she added, pointing a finger at her, “for somebody I wanted as my executive producer, you sure haven’t wanted to stay in the job very long.”

Cassy’s mouth fell open. “How do you know about that?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Alexandra said, throwing her arm through the air, “what kind of reporter would I be if I didn’t know what was going on at my own network?”

“I’ll have another, please,” Jessica said to the bartender. “But make it vodka over ice this time.”

“Same here,” Langley said, pushing his glass across the bar.

“As you were saying,” Jessica said, turning back to him, leaning against the bar.

“As I was saying,” Langley said, eyeing the front of Jessica’s dress, “Belinda is very difficult to live with sometimes.” He brought his eyes up. “She’s troubled.”

“And who isn’t?” Jessica asked him, frowning deeply.

“No, I mean really troubled, Jessica.” He leaned closer to her. “She goes off sometimes—”

“Mr. Mitchell,” Jessica said, plunking her hand down on his shoulder and pushing him back a few inches, “I hate to ruin a good story, but how would you know if your wife’s difficult to live with?” She reached for her new drink. “Thanks.” To him, as she raised it to her mouth, “You haven’t lived with Belinda since I’ve known you.”

“Oh,” Langley said, reaching for his drink, “I forgot. You’re pals with Belinda now, aren’t you?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Jessica said, taking a gulp of her drink. “Do you want to know what I think or not?”

Langley took a gulp of his drink, shrugging, eyes on her breasts.

Jessica waved her hand in front of his eyes. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

Langley’s eyes came up.

“I think you should pay more attention to her,” Jessica said. “Or don’t you like her anymore?”

Langley looked at her. “I like her fine-but she’s crazy.”

“I don’t think she’s crazy at all.”

“You should have been there this morning,” Langley said, banging his glass down on the bar so that some of the vodka sloshed over the side.

“I think she’s got what they call housewife’s disease,” Jessica said. “That’s what they called it where I grew up.”

“Belinda’s no housewife,” Langley said, reaching for his drink again.

“But she’s a human being, isn’t she?” Jessica said, slamming her drink down on the bar this time, making some of the vodka slosh over the side. “You husbands like us just fine until something goes wrong with us inside, don’t you?”

“That’s a stupid, shitty, fucking lousy thing to say,” Langley told her. “And you don’t know a goddam thing about it.”

“Then why the fuck are you talking to me about it then?” Jessica asked him.

‘Jessica honey,” Jackson said, coming up behind her, “I’ve brought your beau back.” He pulled Jessica’s date, Rob, up alongside her and hitched Rob’s arm to hers. “There now. Pay attention to him and he won’t run off again.”

Jessica looked at Rob. “How are you?” she asked him in close to a yell.

“Good,” Rob said.

“Good,” Jessica said. She looked at Langley, who was staring at her breasts again. “Fuck you!” she told him.

“What?” Langley said, startled.

“Creeping catfish, what are you guys drinkin’?” Jackson said, frowning, peering over the rim of Langley’s glass.

“Relaxer,” Jessica said. “We were trying to get Langley un-uptight, but we’ve overdone it. He’s turned into a scout for Maidenform.”

“Are you getting drunk, Lang?” Jackson asked him. “Because if you are—”

“I am not drunk,” Langley said.

Jessica looked at Rob again. “We’re date-dates, right? For some reason I can’t seem to recall the terms of our relationship from the last time we went out.”

“You told me I was a stupid son of a bitch,” Rob told her. “Heineken, please,” he told the bartender.

“Oh, well, sorry,” Jessica said.

“Sorry for what?” Rob asked her. “I had a great time.”

“Oh,” Jessica said, forehead furrowing. A second later, squinting at him, “Refresh my memory—are you married?”

“Uh-huh,” Rob said cheerfully. “My wife lives in Boston. She’s an investment banker. She graduated fourth in her class from Harvard.”

“Oh,” Jessica said, thinking. A moment later she nudged Rob. “Hey, listen, I think he should be your date,” she said, pointing to Langley. “I think you have a lot in common.”

“Jessica honey,” Jackson said, “could I trust you to see that Langley eats something?”

“Talk to Rob,” Jessica advised him, reaching for her glass. “He’s his date—yow!” she said, whirling around. “Nice action back here,” she said to the man who had just fallen down on the floor behind her. “Langley, come here and do something. One of your drunken employees has just been socked a-sluggo.”

“He’s not drunk,” somebody said. “He’s telling a story.”

The crush of people around the bar was growing even tighter.

“What happened to the orchestra?” Jackson said. “Why isn’t anyone dancing? Rob—will you make these two eat something, please?” And he pushed off into the crowd.

“Hi, Mr. Peterson,” Kate Benedict said, flushed in the face and carrying an empty glass. “Excuse me—could I just get to the bar?”

“Sure,” Langley said, scrunching around her, holding his glass high in the air.

“Hi, Jessica,” Kate said, standing next to her now. “Margarita, please,” she told the bartender.

“Hi, Alexandra, Jr.,” Jessica said.

Kate giggled, weaving slightly.

“Here,” Jessica said, guiding one of Kate’s hands to the bar. “Hold on. These gale winds at sea can be something.”

“How you doing, Jess?” Denny said, pushing in between her and Rob.

“Hi,” Jessica said. She looked past him. “Where’s Bill?”

“Maybe getting a job,” Denny said. “Kelly’s boyfriend works for Exxon and says they have some geologists on staff in New York.”

“I love working at DBS!” Kate announced, new margarita in hand.

“My, my,” Jessica said to Denny, “our little Alexandra, Jr., appears to be a little crocked.” Kate laughed and laughed and Jessica took the drink out of her hand before she spilled it and put it on the bar. She turned to Denny. “I think someone should find whoever it is that’s supposed to be guarding this child.”

“Leave her alone,” Langley told Jessica, “she’s just having a good time. Barkeep!” he yelled, snapping his fingers.

“Not with me she’s not,” Jessica said. “Alexandra, Jr.,” she said to Kate, guiding her over to Denny, “listen, Denny’s going to take you and your margarita off to find your beau, okay? Have fun and stay away from me, or I’ll never hear the end of it from your boss lady.”

“Alexandra’s wonderful,” Kate sighed dreamily.

“Then go find her,” Jessica said, shooing Kate away.

“Hi,” Gordon said, coming down the deck toward Alexandra and Cassy.

Alexandra turned. “Hi,” she said, stepping back from the railing.

He slid his arm around her, pulling her close to kiss her forehead. “Some catch, huh?” he asked Cassy.

Cassy smiled. “Yes.”

He looked at Alexandra. “What’s the matter? Cold feet?” he asked her.

She smiled slightly, nodding.

“Me too,” he said, putting his other arm around her and giving her a hug.

“Everybody happy?” Jackson asked, grabbing the microphone on the orchestra stage.

“Yeah!” said the crowd.

“Where is everybody?” Jackson then said, peering around. “I detect about fifty people are missing.”

“Who?” said the crowd.

“Langley, for one,” Jackson said.

“Here!” cried a voice. It belonged to Langley—somewhere. And then there he was, standing in front of the crowd, looking none too steady on his feet.

“Where’s Cassy?” Jackson said.

“Behind you!” everyone said.

“Oh,” he said, turning around. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said.

“Where’s Jessica?”

“Up there!” everyone said.

“Up where?” Jackson said, looking up, shielding his eyes against the lights.

“Where stars are supposed to be,” Jessica said. A spotlight was moving around up there and found her, sitting on the floor of the second level with Rob, peering down at him through the railing. “I’m up here in the sky.”

“Well, come on down, Jessica honey,” he said. “I want everyone onstage here with me.”

While everybody gathered around and waiters passed trays of champagne and Perrier with lime in champagne glasses, Jackson did a little spiel on their success to date and introduced, one by one, Langley—who stumbled onto the stand—Cassy, Denny, and then Jessica—to great roars of applause—and then Kyle and then Alexandra—to great roars of applause—and then Gordon. There they were, all pressed together on the tiny stage, and everybody was clapping and cheering.

And then Jackson offered a toast, holding his glass of Perrier high: “To you, you who are the DBS television network. I salute your talent, your energy and your commitment, and I wish you good health and happiness and a terrific career.”

“Hear, hear,” Cassy said, raising her glass.

They all drank to the toast, except Langley, who tried to rest his arm on a cymbal and nearly fell into the drums, causing a mild chain reaction that resulted in Kyle’s being shoved off the other side of the stage, spilling his champagne down Alexandra’s back as he went.

“Yikes,” Alexandra said, jumping to wide-eyed attention.

“Right,” Jackson said, turning back to the microphone. “And here’s to Alexandra’s success on the DBS Across America tour—forty cities in sixty days!”

Not even one cheer from the crowd.

“Hey!” Jackson said. “How about a little support?”

“Not unless we get to go with her,” somebody called from the back.

“Yeah,” somebody else called.

“So much for the tour,” Jackson said, shrugging and looking at Cassy. “Well, how about this announcement, gang?” He elbowed Gordon to stop mopping Alexandra’s back with his handkerchief and look alive. “Listen up, everybody,” Jackson continued, raising his glass again. “I have a very special announcement.”

“Notice how I’m suddenly chopped liver,” Jessica grumbled to Denny.

“Alexandra is engaged to be married—”

A series of “Ohhh” s rippled through the crowd.

“—and she’s marrying none other than
…
” Jackson waited for the drumroll, but the crowd came surging forward with their congratulations, pulling him off the stage, forcing him to explain individually that, no, no, he wasn’t the one engaged to Alexandra, Gordon was.

“We could have a great deal to talk about,” Lord Hargrave said, dancing with Alexandra, “so I hope you will come over.”

She smiled. “Talk to Cassy.”

“Oh, I will,” Lord Hargrave assured her. “Jackson tells me she may soon be representing the whole network.”

Alexandra nodded, looking over Lord Hargrave’s shoulder and smiling at Gordon, who was dancing with Adele. “We’re certainly very interested in your global concept,” she said, turning back to him.

“You should be,” he said. “Particularly when your husband—to-be is doing so much work on our side of the Atlantic.”

“I meant DBS News,” Alexandra said.

“I meant you,” Lord Hargrave said. “You can never tell when even America’s horizons might not be large enough for you.”

Alexandra looked at him.

He smiled, nodding slightly. “Why not?” he asked her. “Why not dream of greater glories?”

Alexandra looked at him, still, expression impossible to read.

He threw his head back, laughing, turning her on the floor with a little livelier pace. “So you do dream of greater glories. My dear, dear Alexandra—you are a most charming young woman.”

This time Alexandra laughed.

“May I cut in?” Gordon asked, appearing at their side.

Lord Hargrave looked at him. “Of course,” he said after a moment, turning Alexandra over to him.

“So what was that all about?” Gordon whispered, taking her in his arms, kissing her lightly on the temple and moving her around. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“I think Lord Hargrave may make you and me some kind of offer,” she said.

“Maybe,” Gordon said, looking over at him. “Boy, that would be something, wouldn’t it?” he asked, looking back at her. “The two of us leaving the States?”

She shook her head—no—and pressed the side of her face to his.

“So now you know it all,” Jackson said, eyes still on Cassy.

She lowered her eyes to the table, fingering the stem of her water glass. She glanced up, forehead furrowed. “So what happened to your money?”

“Beau defaulted on the payments and”—he snapped his fingers” the bank took two-thirds and the IRS took the rest. So”—he shrugged —”except for my salary, I pretty much lost everything. But I make a great salary, and the plane and hotels and everything are part of it.”

“And your children?”

“Oh, they’re all set,” Jackson said, bending a straw, playing with it. “I set them up years ago. Though,” he sighed, “sometimes I think my kids and the whole family would be a lot better off without this kind of money. They’re a pretty confused bunch—and sometimes you have to wonder if it isn’t the money that’s keeping them that way.”

Cassy was nodding. Then she sat back in her seat, resting one hand on the edge of the table.

Jackson threw the straw down and looked at her. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Expect what?” she said softly.

“That you’d want to know about me. I thought you’d be firing questions at me about the miniseries and DBS News.”