Sellevision (5 page)

Amy clapped. “Well, well, well, you could make a living doing that.”

The two laughed and Amy raised her glass in a toast: “May the princess meet her Homo-erectus.”

Bebe smiled and they clinked glasses.

After lunch, the friends took a cab uptown to Henri Bendel. The store was filled with chic Manhattanites carrying dark green shopping bags from Gucci, trademark blue bags with Tiffany & Co. printed in glossy black ink, Banana Republic totes, and navy blue plastic drawstring Gap bags. “I really need a couple of new suits,” Bebe said as they ascended the grand staircase. “I saw a darling Calvin Klein two-piece in
Vogue
last week—beige scoopneck with these wonderful, gigantic lapels.”

As the two passed through accessories, Amy fell in love with, but simply could not afford, an Hermes scarf depicting mermaids, starfish, and dolphins.

“Maybe you should splurge,” Bebe suggested. Then she glanced at the tag in her fingers, read the $399 price, and added, “Or maybe not.”

Amy sighed. “I’ll have to wait until I’m a rich and famous children’s book
author
instead of just a poor and invisible children’s book
editor
.”

Bebe tried on four different suits, took none of them, but instead left the store with a $1,400 sheer black cocktail dress by Michael Kors. “It’s for Mr. Homo erectus,” she said as the two stood on the curb. “You know, for our
second
date.”

Amy raised her arm to hail a cab to take them to the train station, but Bebe quickly moved it back to her side. “I just need to do a little more shopping,” she told her. “I feel like I’m forgetting something. I really ought to pick up a new bag; let’s just run over to Coach.”

O

utside the CVS Pharmacy, John Smythe and the three Smythe boys sat in the Acura Legend waiting for Peggy Jean. Ricky, Robbie, and Richie, though not triplets, were dressed in identical outfits of jeans, long-sleeved blue-and-white striped shirts, and baseball caps, each featuring a
Family Circle
logo. The oldest Smythe boy at thirteen, Ricky was dividing the package of red licorice whips between himself and his brothers. John sat at the steering wheel, the sports section of the
Philadelphia Examiner
folded over in half, hiding his copy of
Tasty Teens
magazine.

Inside the store, Peggy Jean was selecting a calcium supplement with iron, because a commercial she saw the other night warned of the dangers women face as they mature, namely osteoporosis and bone loss. After choosing a supplement, Peggy Jean paused in the aisle and wondered if perhaps there was something homeopathic she could try in order to clear up her possible estrogen/superfluous hair condition. Recently she’d read an article that said a lot of Hollywood celebrities swore by homeopathic remedies.

Although the names were completely technical and unhelpful, she saw that each of the boxes displayed a visual illustration of what the remedy was for. One of the boxes featured a head with lightning bolts coming out of it: headache. Another box showed the lower back with jagged marks zigzagging across it: lower back pain. Then Peggy Jean saw a box with an illustration depicting a uterus, fallopian tubes, and two ovaries:
female troubles
.

She took this box off the shelf and headed for the checkout counter. A new issue of
Soap Opera Digest
was displayed on a rack next to the register, so Peggy Jean placed this on the counter along with her other purchases.

Ever since high school, she’d been a die-hard
Guiding Light
fan. Peggy Jean felt that
Guiding Light
had a wonderful spiritual subtext, unlike
The Young and The Restless
, which was just smut.

“Shoot!” Peggy Jean cried as her husband pulled out of the parking lot. “I forgot the Spray ’N’ Wash.”

L

aurie Greenberg, of Greenberg, Kirshenbaum & Partners, enjoyed being a talent agent, especially when she had good news for one of her clients. And she had good news for Max. The E-Z Shop Channel was looking for a new host.

“It would mean leaving Philly and moving to Florida,” she told him.

“I have no problem with that,” he replied. “What do you think my chances are? Do they know about the . . .
incident?
”

“I spoke with Bob Shriber. He’s the head of broadcast production. I told him that I represented you, that up until recently you were a host on Sellevision and that you were now open to new opportunities.”

“Yeah, what’d he say?” Max asked impatiently.

“Well, he um, well . . .” Laurie hedged.

“C’mon, Laurie, what did he say? Tell me the truth.”

“He said, and I quote, ‘Has he started wearing underwear yet?’ ”

“Oh Christ, I’m fucked. I’m totally screwed, my career—”

“Hold on, hold on, I’m not finished,” Laurie interrupted. “He was just joking. He also said that he would be happy to meet you in person.”

“He did?” Max asked, warily.

“Yes, Max, he did. He’d like to arrange something for next week. He’s out of town all this week on vacation, but we’re going to speak at the beginning of next week and set something up.”

Max exhaled loudly into the phone, feeling great relief.

“But don’t get your hopes set too high. They’re meeting with a few other candidates, and there’s a chance they might want to go with an Asian or an African American, so we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“No, I understand, it’s just that, well, at least it’s something. I really would hate to end up at Denny’s as a waiter.”

“Oh, Max, no matter what, you won’t end up at Denny’s,” Laurie reassured him. “Discovery Channel is always looking for new people, and KRON in San Francisco might be looking for an entertainment correspondent, so don’t panic quite yet.”

“Thanks, Laurie, thanks for not dropping me immediately.”

“Sweetie, I would never drop you. I’m your agent
and
friend, for better or for worse, through sickness and in health . . . with pants or without.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

After she hung up, Laurie scribbled a note on Max’s file:
Reevaluate in three months
.

three

“K
nock knock,” Leigh Bushmoore said, leaning in the doorway of Executive Producer Howard Toast’s office.

Looking up from his desk and seeing Leigh standing there in her two-piece beige cashmere sweater and skirt (A TSV from last month), Howard smiled. “Knock knock right back at you. Care to, uh, join me on the casting couch?” He winked and glanced in the direction of the leather sofa against the wall.

Closing the door behind her and pushing the lock button on the doorknob, Leigh walked around Howard’s desk and stood in front of him, smiling seductively and fingering the eighteeninch strand of freshwater pearls around her neck. “Well, I guess I really should thank you for my recent promotion. Or is it Max I should be thanking?”

He rose from his chair, placed his arms around Leigh’s trim waist, and whispered in her ear. “I don’t think Max is the sort of man who would appreciate a thank-you like that.”

She pressed her body into his and softly kissed his neck. “I’ve missed you,” she said.
Constantly
, she didn’t add.

After they made love on the throw rug, Leigh asked Howard, “When are we going to spend some
real
time together, not just these little afternoon escapades, but dinner or a movie? You know, those things two people do together when they care about each other?”

Leaning over to kiss her cheek, Howard assured her that as soon as the divorce proceedings were set into motion, which would be any week now, everything would be different between them. She smiled, wanting to believe him.

He stood and zipped his fly. “But, sweetheart, you know that it would be too risky for us to take chances right now. We need to act responsibly. I promise you, it won’t be like this forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Leigh said. She hated herself for acting like this. “I don’t mean to pressure you, it’s just that, oh, never mind, I do understand, I really do.”

Howard looked at her, her dark hair, tight ringlets of curls that collected across her shoulders, her eyes a rich brown, “like amber,” he once told her. He studied her fine features, her long neck and legs. “Don’t forget your panties,” he said, pointing under the couch.

Leigh stood, slipped into the panties, then adjusted her top and smoothed her skirt. “Well, I better be running along, I’ve got some stuff I need to get caught up on.”

“You do that. And don’t you worry.” He wagged his finger at her. “I love you, and I just need you to be strong for me. For us.”

Leigh nodded her head. “Well, thanks again,” she said, then added quickly, “I mean for the hours.” Before turning to leave, she paused. “They’re not, you know . . .”

“No, Leigh, they’re not,” he said cutting her off. “You got those hours because you worked for them. Business is business and in this business, it all comes down to what the viewers like. And they like you.”

She smiled, walked to the door, and placed her hand on the knob.

“And, Leigh?” he said.

She turned.

“
I
like you, too. I more than like you.”

She left his office and returned to her own. The remainder of an apple she’d sliced in half and left next to her keyboard had turned brown, so she threw it in the trash. It hit the bottom of the can with a hollow
thunk
. She folded her arms on top of her desk and rested her chin on them. Was love supposed to feel like having your period without any Advil? Was this even love, or was it some sick obsession? One minute she wanted to hold him, and the next she wanted to spray Lysol in his face. It was all so
Fatal Attraction
. Would boiling the family pet be next? God, how could she have been so stupid? After all, she’d known Howard was married from the beginning.

She’d begun working at Sellevision right before the company Christmas party. And at the party, he had come over and started talking to her. Her, of all people. Not Peggy Jean, not Bebe,
her
. He told her he wanted to make sure his new host was happy, that she enjoyed her job, and she had told him yes, she was enjoying it very much.

She noticed the wedding band immediately. In fact, she made a point of looking, because she’d been attracted to him since her first interview. He was handsome, dignified—and, she hated to admit it, fatherly.

They’d talked for quite a while. And had quite a few drinks. He suggested they step outside for some fresh air. And they had. And then they had kissed. And the kiss turned into a romance. And the romance turned into a relationship. And the relationship turned Leigh’s stomach into a constant knot.

She reached into the trash can and took the apple out. Just as she bit into it, she noticed a fresh, moist stain on her cashmere top.

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: Much better!

Dear Peggy Jean,

I’m delighted that you took my suggestion and addressed your hairy earlobe problem so swiftly. I must say you looked absolutely radiant on Tuesday’s Big Bold Gold, and I even purchased those stunning Domed Swirl 14K gold button earrings that you were wearing. After I sent you that note, I told my good friend Cheryl, golly, I hope I didn’t hurt her feelings. Cheryl told me that she was sure you’d appreciate having this pointed out to you, as sometimes we can’t see ourselves as clearly as others can. Have you thought about trying that nicotine gum to help you stop smoking?

                               Your friend,

                               Zoe :)

After reading the letter, Peggy Jean clicked the Reply button on her mail screen and forwarded her standard E-mail. As she clicked the Send Now button she muttered, “I don’t smoke.”

To: [email protected]

FR: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Much better!

While Peggy Jean does read all of her E-mail, it’s impossible for her to reply personally to each and every person. Therefore, she has asked me to write you on her behalf and thank you for your kind words and for taking the time to write. Peggy Jean hopes that you continue to enjoy Sellevision and she looks forward to shopping with you in the future.