So often, in the back of his mind, he’d heard Gabrielle’s voice telling him not to let go, that she still loved and needed him. Doug had listened to that voice, letting himself believe that they were meant for each other, that once again fate would eventually bring them back together. Now, with the announcement of her marriage to Jack Hollis, Doug knew that he’d merely been indulging in wishful thinking. With tears streaming down his cheeks, Doug forced himself to acknowledge the truth: He and Gabrielle were over, and as soon as forever came and went, he would finally stop loving her.
43
Gabrielle forced herself to stop tapping her fingers as she rode nervously along Sixth Avenue in the backseat of the Lincoln Town Car. Why had she agreed to appear on the MTV Video Music Awards? The last thing she wanted to do was get up in front of an audience of millions and present the award for best rap video. Especially when neither Bea nor Jack was available to coach her through it.
It’s not like you’ve never done a television show before, she reminded herself. True, but it’s the first time after that near-disastrous episode on “The Craig Arthur Show.”
That event three weeks ago had shaken her confidence and left her full of anxiety about future television appearances and uncertain of how much longer she could continue to keep her illiteracy hidden without losing her mind. Her public faux pas was also the reason she’d abruptly canceled her guest appearance on “All My Children.” The show’s producers, while not happy, seemed to take it in stride, quickly replacing Gabrielle with her friend and colleague Eva G., but the tabloids, particularly Star Diary, chose to rely on speculation and innuendo to write their stories.
As her car pulled up to the side entrance of Radio City Music Hall, Gabrielle exhaled loudly in an attempt to squelch her fears. Arming herself with the Donovan smile, she grabbed her evening bag, exited the limo, and walked toward the door in a hail of flashbulbs.
“Ms. Donovan, I’m Fred,” the guest-relations assistant greeted her at the door. “This way, please.”
Gabrielle followed Fred through several winding corridors and into the dressing room, where she found the makeup and hair people waiting. Just as they began to work on her, the producer, script in hand, popped in to greet her.
“Gabrielle, good to see you again.”
“You too, Alex. How’s it going?”
“You know how these things are—controlled chaos. In fact, I’ve got a little problem and need your help.”
“Oh?”
“Queen Latifah’s people just called. Her flight is delayed, and she’s not going to make it in time to do the first award presentation, so I need to move you into her spot with Gwyneth Paltrow.”
“But … I … I only know my lines,” Gabrielle pointed out. She could feel the panic begin to inch through her body, wrap around her diaphragm, and squeeze the air from her lungs. Why did this have to happen to her? Why couldn’t they choose someone else?
“Not to worry. Just read off the TelePrompTer. You’ve seen these award shows before. It’s the rare presenter that doesn’t read their lines—let alone read them well.”
“I think Gwyneth can handle it on her own, don’t you? You don’t need me.”
“But I do. Everything is set up for two presenters, so here’s the new script for you to look over. Trust me, it’s really not a big deal.”
Gabrielle took the paper and forced a “no problem” smile as the producer left, glad he could not hear the words that were screaming silently inside her. It is a big deal, goddamn it! It’s a humongous deal. Just read. Just read. So damn easy for you to say, but impossible for me to do. With a live audience of hundreds and a television audience of millions, Gabrielle knew that she couldn’t afford another public slipup. The press would start asking questions, and sooner or later she and all her lies would be exposed.
Gabrielle felt lightheaded and closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. Instead of finding her equilibrium, she was bombarded with the terrifying image of standing mortified at the podium while the audience howled wildly as she stuttered through the unfamiliar lines. I can’t do it again. I can’t, Gabrielle thought as she tried to catch her breath.
“Are you okay?” the makeup girl asked, seeing the panic in her eyes.
“I only know my lines. I can’t do this again,” she repeated aloud as she bolted from the chair. Gabrielle ran to the exit, oblivious to the puzzled looks of the other celebrities and production crew. She felt the fiery heat of embarrassment creep up her face and stain her cheeks, reminding her of another time she’d run out on a job. In three years she’d come so incredibly far, but at this moment Gabrielle felt as if she hadn’t progressed at all. The public might perceive her as a top model at the height of her profession, but she still felt as insecure and unemployable as the teenager who’d run away from her job selling muffins.
Gabrielle burst through the exit door before stopping to catch her breath. Tears were flowing, blurring her vision as she searched up and down the street for her car and driver. After several fruitless minutes Gabrielle hailed a cab and instructed the driver to take her home. The cabdriver, alerted by the whimpers emanating from the backseat, stole a look at the famous face in his rearview mirror. Instead of the glamorous, confident supermodel he’d come to recognize, he saw the crumpled face of a frightened child wrapped up in her own arms, rocking pitifully to and fro.
Jack walked into the apartment and closed the front door behind him. The apartment was silent, signaling that Gabrielle was either still asleep or already up and out. He carried his overnight bag into the bedroom. The bed had not been slept in, leaving Jack to pause in wonderment and concern. He put his bag down and picked up the telephone.
“Morning,” Bea greeted him.
“Good morning, Bea. I just got back from L.A. and was wondering if you knew where my wife was.”
“Gabrielle spent the night here, Jack. In fact, she’s still asleep. She had a rough day yesterday, and since you were out of town, I suggested she camp out here.”
“Is she okay? What happened?”
“She had a panic attack just before the MTV Video Music Awards and walked out.”
“Panic attack over what? Does this have something to do with her dyslexia?”
“Yes, but I think maybe she should explain everything to you. Shall I wake her?”
“No, let her sleep. I’ll see her when she gets up.”
Jack hung up and immediately ran down to the newsstand and picked up several daily newspapers, including Star Diary. He stopped by the Greek deli for coffee before returning home to see just what he’d missed while in Los Angeles.
By the time he’d finished Page Six and Liz Smith’s column, he knew that Gabrielle had abruptly left Radio City Music Hall, reneging on her commitment to be a presenter, but he learned little else. It wasn’t until he read Star Diary that he got the full dish, with the usual side order of unconfirmed speculation by “sources close to Ms. Donovan.”
It appears that supercool supermodel Gabrielle Donovan is creating diva moments faster than McDonald’s can make french fries. You remember how she so rudely canceled her guest appearance on “All My Children” at the ninth hour, making her persona non grata in Pine Valley (not to worry, dear, fill-in Eva G. did a marvelous job). Now it appears that the model pulled another no-show at last night’s MTV Video Music Awards. My sources tell me that when asked to fill in for the delayed Queen Latifah, Gabrielle refused and left the building in a huge huff, insinuating to those within earshot that she had no desire to share the podium with actress Gwyneth Paltrow. Please, Ms. Donovan, isn’t it about time you checked your ego at the door?
Jack folded the tabloid in half as he thought about what he’d read. He knew instantly that this episode was not about his wife’s ego, but more about her lagging confidence. Perhaps it was time for Gabrielle to come clean with the public about her dyslexia. The secret wasn’t worth all the aggravation. Besides, he was here for her now and could support her through any fallout. She di
dn’t have to depend on the out-of-touch, albeit well-meaning advice of some senior citizen. Together, as husband and wife, they could turn her learning disability into a positive social statement—a statement that garnered them both lots of attention, placed them squarely among elite celebrity couples, and tightened the marital knot that bound them together. Jack smiled as he pictured the two of them hosting elaborate fundraisers and appearing in public-service campaigns produced by his agency. Yes, they could definitely use Gabrielle’s problem to their advantage. Just as soon as the time was right, when his wife got over this latest episode and regained her confidence, he was going to convince her as well.
44
“Two pink lines mean yes, one means no,” Gabrielle reminded herself as she awaited the results of her home pregnancy test. She’d waited three months in vain for her period to appear, but it was time to face the fact: She was pregnant.
While she waited for the drugstore test to tell her what she already knew, Gabrielle took time to think about the way her life was unfolding. Despite the fact that both she and Jack had been on the road the greater part of their seven-month marriage, the two of them had settled into an easy and very comfortable union. Their life together was happy and mutually satisfying.
Gabrielle had finally stopped worrying about falling in love with her husband. It wasn’t important anymore. If it happened, it happened. Unless Jack was a better actor than she thought, they both seemed quite content with the way things were.
Gabrielle might not have married the great love of her life, but she got something just as important from her relationship with Jack—peace of mind. With his love and support she was slowly regaining her confidence and feeling better about her career. Jack’s knowing that she couldn’t read made home a safe haven for Gabrielle. She didn’t have to make excuses or pretend when she was with Jack. Sharing her secret had given her security, a treasured friendship, great passion, and now a baby.
But do I want this baby? she asked herself, looking at the two-lined test strip. Gabrielle had decided long ago that she would never bring a child into this world. Her decision was made, not because she didn’t love children or desire motherhood, but because Gabrielle had never believed she could be a good mother. How could she read her child a bedtime story or help out with homework? How could she work and communicate with a child’s teacher or doctor? And what was the likelihood that a child of hers might also be illiterate? How could Gabrielle subject her own flesh and blood to the kind of humiliation and degradation she’d known all her life?
More than anything, Gabrielle feared that she would place her child in constant jeopardy because of her inability to read prescription doses, danger warnings, and the like. How could she compromise the safety of her own child? Wasn’t the death of one child at her hands enough?
Now that you’re pregnant, you must tell Jack, Gabrielle’s conscience reminded her. You can’t keep Tommy a secret forever. Impossible, she decided. As understanding as Jack might be about her “dyslexia,” asking him to understand this tragedy was asking too much. Gabrielle would take the secret of Tommy Montebello to her grave.
Besides, things were different now. She was older, and Jack would be there to protect their child. He could help their child avoid the heartbreak that she herself had endured. They’d also have to hire someone to help out when she went back to work. They would employ the smartest, most competent nanny they could find; better yet, a nurse. Suddenly Gabrielle felt better about this pregnancy, knowing that her baby would be surrounded by people to love and take care of him or her. And she mustn’t forget Bea. Beatrice would make such a fabulous grandmother.
Gabrielle heard Jack’s key in the door, and she scurried to hide the pregnancy test.
“How are you, Beauty?” Jack asked as he swooped into the room and kissed his wife.
“Lonely. I’ve missed you,” she admitted, kissing him back.
“Me, too. Got any plans for this evening?” Jack asked, attempting to make a meal of her earlobe.
“Nothing special.”
“Then how about we order in some Thai food, get naked, and have a feast in bed?”
“Before the feast, could we have a little discussion?”
“About?”
“About the honeymoon you promised me. I’ve been working nonstop, and I’m tired. Let’s go somewhere. Just the two of us.”
“Where would you like to go? Paris, maybe?” Jack suggested.
“No,” Gabrielle said, sounding more abrupt than she intended. Paris held very special memories for her, all inappropriate to relive on her honeymoon with another man. “To be honest, I’d love to go somewhere close. I’m tired of sitting on airplanes for hours on end.”
“How about New England? Killington, Vermont, would be perfect.”
“But it’s July. Isn’t Killington a ski resort?” she asked.
“In the wintertime. In the spring and summer it’s wonderful. Lots of fresh air. Green grass. Wildflowers. You’ll love it,” Jack assured her.
“Sounds perfect. Can we go soon? Like in the next week or two?”
“I’m really tied up with the Nabisco account right now—”
“Jack, please. I don’t ask for much. I need to get away now. Can’t you work something out?” she insisted.
“Okay, since it’s obviously very important to you, I’ll talk to Fritz and try to clear my schedule,” Jack promised.
“Try?”
“Okay, I’ll definitely clear it.”
“Thank you,” Gabrielle said, giving her husband a big kiss.
“What about your screen test with Lexis Richards?”
“I’m not sure I’m going to do that anymore.”
“Why not? I thought we agreed. You know Beatrice and I will help you with your lines.”
“I just have the feeling I’m going to get very busy in the next few months. I’m not sure I can fit filming a movie into my schedule.”
“Why don’t you do the test? You can always decline the role, but at least this way you keep your options open,” he suggested.
“We’ll talk about it later.” Gabrielle was grateful for a legitimate excuse to once again delay her entry into acting. She knew that Jack and Lexis would understand her reason for not doing the screen test after she told them she was pregnant. “Just promise me that you won’t tell anyone about our plans. I don’t want our honeymoon to turn into a photo-taking free-for-all.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Well, my darling, unseal them and kiss me,” Gabrielle demanded as their lips melted together. Then, abruptly she pulled away. “Jack, promise me that nothing will get in the way of our taking this trip.”
“Promise.” Jack was anxious to get away with his beautiful wife as well. This honeymoon was the perfect opportunity to broach the subject of Gabrielle’s going public with her dyslexia. He was convinced that once she did, she would be able to realize her full potential as a model and actress, and she’d love him forever for being the one to free her from her invisible shackles.
Stephanie sat in the Wilcot, Jourdan & Associates staff meeting wondering how much longer she was going to have to endure this bullshit. Granted, with two partners and a staff of eight, these meetings had come a long way from the days of she and Felicia sitting face to face, but they were still tedious as hell. Stephanie was now the most senior associate, and, unfortunately, Felicia had stayed true to her word and given her more challenging assignments. Working two jobs, while lucrative, was exhausting.
Even though “The Grain Harvest” had officially become “The Visa Lee Report,” Stephanie was reluctant to leave until she had the manuscript to Gabrielle’s life story in her hot little hands. Until her plan to smear Gabrielle into submission bore fruit, she was stuck in this office, required to follow the orders of these two dingbats.
Stephanie definitely had far more fun writing her gossip column than pumping out press releases. Her alter ego, Visa Lee, and Howie were having a ball collecting juicy tidb
its and revealing photos of their celebrity subjects. Their collaboration was working out nicely, and, thanks to Howie, Stephanie was building quite a collection of exclusive photos and stories for Gabrielle’s biography.
While Lois and Felicia whined on about the status of their clients, Stephanie began a new list of setups for Gabrielle. An affair perhaps? That might cause a few fireworks in the Hollis household. Stephanie put a big star by that one and continued to think.
She needed something that did more damage to Gabrielle’s good-girl public image. Nothing so far had made a big enough dent in her “little darling” persona. The “diva moment” reports around the canceled soap opera and awards show hadn’t had the prolonged impact she’d hoped for. To date the biggest stir had come after the fight at Nell’s. Never before had her fans thought of Gabrielle as a party girl. That’s it, Stephanie decided. It was time for Gabrielle to step into the volatile world of celebrity parties. If the combination of sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll couldn’t do serious damage to a reputation, nothing could.
“Okay, that takes care of Laurence Fishburne, now let’s move on to In the House Filmworks,” Felicia said. “With the mammoth success of Praline Livin’, Lexis Richards’s next film is generating a huge amount of interest. Soul Survivor could be the film that makes him a major Hollywood player.”
“Everybody is talking about it, particularly if he’ll be the one to finally snag Gabrielle Donovan,” Lois remarked.
“Good. As long as the talk is positive, I’m happy. Now, to keep that chatter going, we want to blanket the media with stories about our client. Every time I turn around, I want to see, hear, or read about Lexis Richards.”
“I guess you’ll be handling this one personally, right, Felicia?” Stephanie asked with a casual snideness to her tone.
“As a matter of fact, our newest associate, Timberly, will be taking over Lexis’s account on a day-to-day basis. I’ll be concentrating more on overall strategy.” Felicia would never admit to anyone, with the exception of Lois, that it was too difficult for her to work as closely with Lexis as she had in the past.
Read Between the Lies Page 34
