Searching for Moore
Page 28
He leaned his forehead into hers and stayed like that for a moment before kissing her lips softly and saying, “It’s smoochal” into them.
Mia, Kami, Holly, Yoli, Debbie and Seth walked the two blocks down Grand Street through SoHo to the Sam Brocato Salon. Turning left on Wooster Street, the red Brocato Salon flag was gently blowing in the breeze.
“Oh my God, now it seems real, doesn’t it. We’re getting coiffed for tonight.” Mia commented, as they walked into the salon. The entourage was met warmly, with Sam whisking Mia off immediately.
He started to play with her hair as they talked, “You’ve always had thick hair, but pregnancy has turned it into a mane,” he played some more, “I can see you have not been using the Peppermint Scrub on your scalp.”
Mia looked guilty as she met Sam’s eyes in the mirror, “Busted.”
“I’ll go easy on you because I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but you are not leaving here without a Peppermint Scrub Complete Pack. Now tell me about tonight, what you are wearing, your role, etc. This event is clearly the big ticket in town, everyone is talking about it.”
“They are? You’re hearing about it?” Sam nodded at Mia, “Excellent, means we’re doing a good job. Ok, so obviously we are the agency of record and we are handling all aspects, advertising, marketing, PR, events — all the details for this event.”
“Have you worked with Level 9 on the West Coast? They are huge out there.”
“No. Frankly, I had no clue who they were until February.” Mia laughed, “Apparently, I was the only one.”
“So, how did you connect with them?” Sam was trying out different parts on Mia’s hair, critically looking at her in the mirror as he pulled her hair up, put it back down, flared it on her shoulders, swept it to one side, then the other.
“Well, I have a relationship with the owner.”
Sam stopped playing and leveled a glance at Mia in the mirror, “With Schooner Moore.”
Mia nodded.
“What kind of relationship?” Sam was intrigued. Schooner was the new mystery man in town.
Mia laughed and rubbed her belly. “Knocked me up,” she deadpanned.
Sam led out a guffaw laugh. He laid his hand with the hairbrush on Mia’s shoulder. “So, he is your significant other?” Mia nodded.
“Mia, Mia, Mia. You have just made my day so much more interesting. Ok, so that makes you both the professional that has created the event as well as the hostess. Ok, let’s get your hair washed and your scalp scrubbed.”
Mia returned to Sam’s chair with her scalp feeling like it was glowing. “Tell me about your dress.”
Mia looked at Sam in the mirror and rolled her eyes. “Maternity evening wear is penance for something I did wrong in a past life,” she pouted.
Sam laughed, “I’m sure you are wearing something very chic and flattering. Seth would not let you attend in something embarrassing.”
“It’s a midnight blue one-shouldered Grecian drape thing.”
Sam was listening as he combed through Mia’s hair. “Length?”
“Short, above the knee.”
He stopped what he was doing, “Oh thank goodness, you are too small to carry long maternity.”
Mia nodded, “That is what Seth said.”
“Ok, so classic lines on your dress and since you are the hostess, I’m thinking old Hollywood for you tonight. Let’s sweep these bangs over to the side. Think Rita Haworth, Ava Gardner, Lauren Bacall. Soft waves for the rest. And I need to shape your hair, you are a mess from this summer.”
“Do it!” Mia proclaimed with a smile. As she glanced to her left and her right, the rest of her party were in different phases of their makeovers.
When Sam was done with Mia, she sat with her mouth open looking at her reflection. She checked out her left profile, then her right profile, tilted and cocked her head. “You like?” Sam looked very satisfied with his masterful handiwork.
“I love it.”
As Mia headed toward make-up, she stopped behind Seth’s chair. He spied her in his mirror and gasped, “It’s movie star BBC. I likee!”
CHAPTER 34
Mia stood in front of the bathroom mirror trying to maneuver her body into her dress properly. “This is some serious cleavage,” she muttered at her changing body.
She heard the front door to the hotel penthouse loft slam, “Hey, I’m back.” Schooner yelled
“I’ll be out in a few.” Showtime, Mia thought and wished she’d had her shoes and jewelry on, so that Schooner could get the full effect of the silver screen image that Sam had created for her.
Schooner had his back to her when she emerged from the bathroom. He was already in the pants of his Fendi Steel Mélange black suit and white Armani Collezioni dress shirt and was fumbling as he attempted to insert black stingray leather and silver cufflinks.
“Need help with those?”
Schooner slowly turned around, his eyes widening and a real smile spreading across his handsome face at the sight of Mia. “Hey, Gorgeous,” his voice was little more than a growl.
“Hey Gorgeous, yourself,” she took the cufflinks from his hands and inserted them into his French cuffs.
She looked up and he was smiling down at her, appreciatively. “You look beautiful, Baby Girl.”
“You think?” She asked over her shoulder with a devil smile as she headed to the closet. “Oh crap. Where are my shoes?” There was panic in Mia’s voice.
“In the living room.”
“In the living room, really?” Mia was confused and left the bedroom in search of her shoes. “What the…” She turned around to see Schooner standing behind her with a shit-eating grin on his face. Mia cocked her head, questioningly. On the low coffee table in the living room were two matte black shoeboxes emblazoned with the silver Jimmy Choo logo.
Schooner took Mia by the hand and led her to the couch where they sat down. She just smiled at him with a bemused look.
He took one of the boxes in his lap, “Christian Louboutin made you cry. So I bought you Jimmy Choo’s.” His eyes never leaving hers, he removed the box top and watched her gasp as the recessed lighting in the hotel loft caught the glint off of the shiny silver peep toe slingbacks.
“Oh my God, Schooner.” Mia was floored as Schooner took out the first of the “Clue” pumps.
“A sexy silver shoe. There just could not be a more perfect shoe for Mia Silver.” Mia lifted her foot for him and Schooner slipped the sexy and elegant silver shoe onto her left foot and then her right. She smiled at them in awe.
“They fit.” Mia beamed at Schooner. “I love you so much,” she leaned over and softly kissed his lips.
“Do you want to see what is in the other box?” He was the one giving her the devil smile now. Mia nodded, but was clearly distracted by the beautiful slingbacks gracing her shapely legs and high-arched, newly pedicured feet.
Schooner handed her the second box and she lifted the lid and gasped again. “I figured your feet might not make it through the night in the first pair and you’ll still need to look chic — or Seth will kill the both of us,” he laughed. In the second box, were are pair of Jimmy Choo flat silver thong sandals with a sexy ankle strap.
Mia wrapped her arms around Schooner’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “You spoil me,” she said against his lips.
He nodded, smiling. “And it’s a rare treat when you actually let me.”
She kissed his lips softly and said, “Wait here.”
Coming from the bedroom, she sat down and handed him a long thin burnt orange box with black piping. The box was sashed with a thin black satin ribbon emblazoned in white with Hermès-Paris. “I needed to complete your New York transformation.”
Schooner opened the box and smiled at Mia. Nestled in soft tissue was an Hermes Faconnee H jacquard silk twill tie that matched Mia’s midnight blue dress. “Now that’s class,” he whispered, as he removed the hand folded tie from the box. It was Schooner’s first Hermès.
“You’re killing me here,” he groaned.
“Good,” she kissed him again, devil smile reaching her eyes this time.
They finished dressing and Mia was standing in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom. Schooner came up behind her buttoning his suit jacket, looking at her petite and very feminine reflection appreciatively. They both stood there silently drinking in the image in the mirror. Their image was not just one of beauty, but also exuded happiness. Mia couldn’t help but think of a line from a Roxy Music song, “More than this, there is nothing.”9
Schooner and Mia did not just look like they belonged together, Schooner and Mia belonged together.
CHAPTER 35
Schooner and Mia reached the Sky Lobby on the hotel’s third floor where the rest of their party awaited. “Wait until you see your daughter,” Mia squeezed Schooner’s hand, as they approached.
Dressed in an azalea red ruched Theia silk jacquard cocktail dress with her long blonde hair swept to one side, Holly looked as if she should be walking the runway. Schooner’s face melted upon seeing his daughter and Mia gave his hand a final squeeze, before letting it go.
Schooner held Holly by her shoulders at arm’s length looking at her. “You look…” he began to speak, but was overcome and shook his head, before pulling her in for a sweet hug. Seth grabbed Mia’s hand and gave it a squeeze as they smiled at the heartwarming scene unfolding in front of them.
It was then that Mia noticed Zac watching them from off to the side, where he stood leaning against a glass wall. Instinctively, she could not help herself from smiling at him standing there looking like a brooding Greek god. She knew who and what he was, yet could not control an underlying, and unwarranted, fondness — he was Schooner’s.
“Zac, come over here. I want to take a picture of you, your dad and Holly.” Mia motioned him over. It was the first interaction she’d had with him since the incident at the pool. Zac stood there stone-faced, not moving. Mia rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, “Just get your ass over there.” Her tone was one that she would take with a friend, like Seth, saying “just cut the crap.” Not quite knowing how to take her, Zach complied and shuffled over. Refusing to smile for the picture, his scowl actually complimented both his looks and the eveningwear.
“Gorgeous.” Mia said, showing Seth the picture. “You did an amazing job dressing him.”
“I hate admitting how beautiful Devil Spawn is,” he whispered at her through clenched teeth and Mia squeezed his arm.
Out of the corner of her eye, Mia saw Schooner nod his head at Zac and motion toward Mia. As Zac approached Mia, Seth gave her a look and backed away.
“Sorry about last night,” he muttered, without conviction.
“Come walk with me.” Mia took Zac by the upper arm.
They moved away from the rest of the party and rounded a corner before Mia stopped. She leveled a cold glance at him, her green eyes meeting his ice blue eyes head on. “Do you love your father?” She asked.
“Yes, I love my father,” his eyes narrowed.
“Do you want him in your life?”
“What do you think?” Now out of sight of the rest of the party, he had no need for pretenses or civility.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know what I think, and frankly, that is not the issue here. Do you want him in your life?” Mia asked for a second time.
“Yes, I want him in my life.”
Mia said nothing more to him. She nodded her head, turned and walked away, leaving Zac standing there, confused.
“Mia?” He caught up with her at a quick pace and put a hand on her arm to stop her.
“Yes, Zac?”
“Was that it?” He wanted more, a conversation, a fight.
“Yes.” Mia met him with indifference.
She could see his mind spinning with a million thoughts and before he went off in a direction she didn’t want him to go, Mia decided to throw him off balance, “We have a really hot opening to get to and you look like a freaking model, so let’s go.” She slipped her arm through his and led him back to a surprised group and asked with the biggest, brightest smile she could paint on her face, “Everyone ready to hit the road?”
The limo pulled up in front of L9/NYC and there was already a crowd gathered out front comprised of guests arriving, security, paparazzi, and onlookers hoping to get a peek and photo of their favorite celebrity.
Mia saw Charles talking to seemingly no one, but knew he was giving staff orders through some type of hidden walkie-talkie device. A doorman opened the door to the limo and Yoli and Debbie exited first, followed by Kami and Seth, then Zac, who set off a flare of paparazzi flashes just by looking like a star or a model, the same with Holly and Jared.
Mia squeezed Schooner’s hand, “This is it, Baby Girl.” From a walkway in front of Brewster Hall to the sidewalk in front of L9/NYC with paparazzi and press awaiting their arrival, Mia and Schooner were entering a new world, together.
Schooner stepped out of the car and reached a hand down for Mia, escorting her from the limo. Putting an arm around her shoulder as they began to walk, she looked up at him and they both smiled and simultaneously uttered, “Showtime” — breaking into huge smiles at their trademark synchronicity. It was at that moment that the surrounding cameras began to flash, and the image that was captured of handsome California turned New York entrepreneur Schooner Moore, and his beautiful and very pregnant New York love Mia Silver, felt almost voyeuristic. Schooner and Mia were looking at one another with a love that made them oblivious to their surroundings, smiling as if they were clearly sharing a very private secret. This picture would grace Women’s Wear Daily, the social columns of the New York newspapers, fashion and fitness magazines, New York Magazine, The New Yorker, Paris Match and Vogue. It would be this image that would forever remain in people’s minds when they thought of Mia Silver and Schooner Moore.
CHAPTER 36
The offices were set up for press interviews and a steady stream of journalists and photographers were booked for their one-on-ones with Schooner. Kami and Schooner had prepped extensively for the interviews, conducting due diligence on each of the reporters. As Schooner was both well-seasoned and a natural — especially with women reporters (it just took a flash of his All-American boy smile), they didn’t anticipate any surprises or situations he couldn’t handle.
Mia had come in and was standing in the threshold of the office as Schooner was finishing up his last scheduled interview of the evening. He was sitting behind his desk, long legs crossed in his impeccable Fendi suit, very focused on the interviewer.
The reporter, a small serious woman dressed in vintage Chanel, had bird-like features and a champagne blonde French twist. She quickly looked through her notes before looking back up at Schooner, “I have one last question, Mr. Moore. What is the significance of the name Level 9?”
Schooner cocked his head to the side and looked at the diminutive reporter with a small, appreciative smile. “Do you know, that you are the first member of the press to ever have asked me that question?”
The reporter looked surprised and pleased with herself.
“What does L9 mean?” Schooner smiled, repeating the question, an introspective smile on his handsome face. He was silent for a moment, clearly inside his head, remembering something and formulating his response, “L9 or what has morphed into Level 9 is my personal inspiration for not only attaining the best that I can be, but also the best that I can do for others. It’s a philosophy that I not only try to apply on a personal level, but also apply to any impact that I may have in a broader sense,” he paused again, before looking directly into the reporters eyes as he continued, “The summer after my freshman year in college,” he began, his eyes flicked to Mia momentarily, and h
e gave her a small, sad smile, “I accompanied a group of doctors to the Southern Province of Zambia, to a village called Macha, where we helped set up a hospital. I went to lend an extra set of hands to the medical staff, or in my case, one hand, because my right hand was in a cast at the time. Within the first few days after our arrival, I noticed that families were traveling long distances seeking medical attention and literally bringing their entire family on the journey. The children were waiting around all day with nothing to do while their parents were waiting to be seen by the doctors. So, after I had assisted with the initial set-up of the hospital, I asked myself, “What can a one-handed jock do to really be useful to both the medical personnel and to the patients? And there was only one answer to that, start a sports and soccer camp for the kids,” he laughed, “and with the help of nine very dedicated children from the local village, I set up an exercise, soccer and wellness camp for both local and visiting children.” Schooner paused, smiling at a memory, “We did everything from basic exercise to soccer matches to learning lifesaving techniques such as CPR and oral-rehydration therapy. At the end of the summer, we held a soccer tournament that turned into a huge event, where everyone in the village came out,” he laughed, “basically a tailgate party, Zambian-style.” Schooner was clearly enjoying the memory, “There was a village elder, named Levi Mambwe, who pulled me aside and had a very enlightening discussion with me on my last night there. He talked with me about gifts and passion and what I had done for the children of the village. His inspirational words touched me deeply, and I knew from that moment on, what my path in life would be. I also knew that the people of Macha had done much more for me than I had actually done for them. L9 is my way of paying homage to both Levi, and the nine children of Macha, who dedicated themselves to the sports camp. It has been my way of thanking them for what they taught me and the gift that they gave to me and that I have, in turn, been able to share with others. So, for me L9 is a level at which I aspire to live my life — a way of paying things both back and forward through inspiring people to maintain mind and body health. And that is the significance behind the name Level 9.”