They sat together for an hour while she sang and he played, and then with regret he closed the piano, and said they’d better not play too late or they’d get in trouble with the neighbors and her mom would be mad. Salima was sad to see their musical alliance end.
“Have you ever thought of taking singing lessons?” he asked her as they left the room.
“No. I used to want to be a singer when I was a kid. But I don’t want to be Ray Charles or Stevie Wonder when I grow up. And I don’t write music. You kind of have to if you want to be special.” She looked disappointed as she said it.
“You don’t have to be a pro. Why not just do it for fun?” he suggested. “That’s why I cook. Because I enjoy it.”
“Maybe.” Salima thought about it, and then said goodnight. She stopped in at her mother’s room on the way back to her own. Blaise was at her desk, writing an editorial for the next day, with a stack of research beside her.
“You and Simon sounded great. He certainly has a lot of talents. Music, cooking.” And he was handling Salima well.
“Could I ever take singing lessons?” Salima asked her, and Blaise looked surprised again. It was the first time Salima had ever inquired about it, although she’d had a singing talent all her life.
“I don’t see why not. I’ll see what I can find. Someone who can come to the house.” Salima nodded. It sounded good to her. She kissed her mother goodnight then, and drifted back to her own room. She listened to several of the CDs they’d bought that afternoon, and sang along with them.
And in the kitchen, Simon was at his computer, checking Facebook, which gave him something to do. He saw then that Megan had sent him another e-mail. He read it, deleted it, closed his computer, and went back to his room. The one thing he knew was that their desperate, dishonest, twisted illicit affair had to end. But as he lay down on his bed and thought about her, he was sad. At least work was going well.
Chapter 6
The next day got off to a better start for Blaise. She walked into the kitchen just before five A.M. and fully expected to see Simon there again, handing her a cup of coffee. But he tried not to make the same mistakes twice. Her coffee was hot and waiting, but he was nowhere to be seen, and his door was closed. He had set the table for her, and put the newspapers next to where she sat. Her coffee was ready, and she didn’t have to see him. It was perfect, and she left for work in a much better mood.
Her morning segment went smoothly, and when she got to her office, she asked Mark to find her a music teacher, and he looked at her in amazement.
“You want to take singing lessons? Tap too? Does this have anything to do with Susie Q? You’re adding vaudeville to your segment?” She laughed at his response, and it was certainly a thought.
“It’s for Salima. She has a beautiful voice, and her new caretaker must have suggested singing lessons to her. It’s not a bad idea, especially since she’ll be home for a few months. It will keep her busy.” Blaise liked the idea too.
“Who do I call?” He looked blank. It was an unusual request for him.
“That’s up to you. Juilliard maybe? Or maybe they can steer you in the right direction. Maybe some of the students give lessons. I think there’s a high school for arts and music too. See what turns up.”
“Will do,” he said, and he called Juilliard a little later and was given several names. He left voicemail messages for each one and reported back to Blaise. “How’s the new guy working out by the way?”
“I’m not sure. Yesterday morning I was ready to kill him when he got in my face at five A.M. Last night, he made a meal worthy of La Grenouille, and he played the piano while Salima sang, and now he has her wanting to take singing lessons. He certainly opens up the world to her. Abby was more of a homebody, and a cozy person. This one opens up all the windows and gets air into the house. He even has her doing dishes. I don’t know, maybe it will work. At least until she goes back. It’s different anyway. But he keeps her busy. And whatever else he is, he’s a very bright guy.”
“Do you think he’s got the hots for her, with the piano playing and all of that?”
“No, I don’t. I just think he’s trying to figure out what interests her, and trying to relate to her through that. He’s a very proper guy. He’s got nice manners, and he’s well brought up, and he’s not inappropriate with either of us. It’s just weird having a man in the house. I’m not used to it anymore.”
“Maybe it will do you both good,” Mark said with a knowing look. He worried about her being alone all the time, and he was sad for her that at forty-seven, she hadn’t had a date in four years. It didn’t seem right to him, and she was beautiful and a good person, talented and smart. But he knew the story of Andrew Weyland and how badly she’d been hurt. He had seen her look devastated afterward for nearly a year. And now it was four, and she had removed herself entirely from the dating scene. She was much too comfortable alone. And he hated to see her stay that way. She deserved so much more. And her career, no matter how satisfying, wasn’t enough, even if she thought it was. And in Mark’s opinion, success was so ephemeral. Someone like Susie Quentin could come along anytime and maneuver Blaise right out of a job.
Blaise got a hint of the prevailing winds that afternoon. She had lunch at her desk, and glanced up to see an e-mail coming in on her computer. And she sat staring at it after she read it. And then read it again. The president of the news division had resigned and been replaced. He had been lured away by another network. And she knew instantly from experience that everything was about to change. The new president was thirty years old, and she knew him by reputation. Everyone in the business knew him. He was a hotshot, and was considered a renegade, previously at another network, and known to keep the bottom line in his sights at all times. He loved reality shows for that reason. And they were so much cheaper to make. He was also famous for firing people on a whim, with no warning. One slip in the ratings, and you were dead. And he would find someone cheaper to replace talent who he felt made too much money. He was good at what he did, and he would be watching Blaise like a hawk. As if she didn’t have enough problems at the moment. She looked panicked when she told Mark about Zack Austin.
“I hear he’s a real son of a bitch,” Mark said in a whisper, as though the walls had ears now. “No one is safe with him running things.” He had come from the entertainment division and Blaise was afraid he’d be looking to jazz things up, possibly with talent closer to his age. Blaise looked nervous. Even in her position, no one was ever totally secure at the network. She made more money than any on-air talent, and if he could replace her with someone cheaper, younger, and whom he considered as good, there was no question that he would. She was a big target, and she had the distinct feeling that Zack Austin would be gunning for her. Blaise was a nervous wreck by the time she got home that night, and Simon could see that she looked strained.
He made another delicious dinner, although simpler than the one the night before, since he knew Blaise was careful about what she ate. He made a simple saffron risotto, roast chicken, green beans, and fruit salad. And they ate it all. And she lingered for a moment when he was cleaning up. Salima had gone to her room for something, and wanted to sing with him again. And he had taken her to Ellis Island that day. He thought she should write a paper on it for school, for her American history class.
Blaise was pouring herself a cup of tea from a chamomile infusion he had made, and he glanced over at her. “Are you okay?” he asked her, worried that he was crossing a line. But she looked anxious and distracted all through dinner. She started to nod, and then decided to be honest.
“No, I’m not. They brought in a new head of the news division who doesn’t know anything about the news. He’s from the entertainment side of the business. We’d all better get out our tap shoes.” Simon looked stunned by her answer.
“Are you kidding? You’re Blaise McCarthy, you’re a legend all over the world. People in the desert on camels know who you are.” She shrugged.
“Maybe. But the network’s not as impressed as you or the camels are. They always figure we’re replaceable, and they’re always looking for someone younger and cheaper. I cost them a fortune. And they don’t give a damn about ‘Blaise McCarthy,’ the ‘legend.’ As long as they sign the checks, they call the shots. As someone once said to me, it’s the Golden Rule. He who has the gold rules. And they do. I’m just hired help as far as they’re concerned. There’s nothing secure in this business, and the longer I’m in it and the older I get, the greater the chance they’ll get rid of me sooner or later. In fact, they’re grooming someone to knock me out of my spot now. She’s just not ready yet, or I’d be collecting unemployment, or doing stories about dog shows for the four A.M. news.”
Simon looked horrified. In his mind, she was a star. In hers, she had to fight all the time. And she knew it was true. It had the ring of truth to him too, and opened his eyes to the stress she lived with every day. He had been convinced that being as famous as she was meant that you never had to worry, that she was safe. Instead, she had to worry even more. He wondered if she had to worry about money too, and hoped not for her sake. But it was obvious she depended only on herself. There was no one else around. And somehow, listening to her, he realized that being a star was not enough. It was a lonely, scary life. And he wouldn’t have traded places with her for anything in the world. For all the glory and so-called glamour, she still had a kid who needed special attention that nothing would fix and was trying to give her a good life. There was no one there to help her, and she had no partner and was alone, and she lived with constant stress at work. He was glad he didn’t have her job, and he had greater respect for her now after what she’d just said. At least he could be there for Salima. He gave Blaise a sympathetic look, and she smiled at him with a weary expression, as Salima walked in and told him to hurry up. She wanted him to play piano for her again. She’d had fun the night before. And she didn’t realize that he’d been having a serious conversation with her mother. He left the kitchen with Salima a minute later.
And hearing them from her room a little later, Blaise closed her eyes and listened to her daughter singing in her beautiful pure voice. She was singing old Barbra Streisand songs, and then switched to gospel songs, which Blaise always loved. And all Blaise could hope was that Zack Austin never found a reason to fire her, and no one else would take her place. She wished that Simon was right and she was untouchable because of who she was. But who she was, and how big she was, put her that much more at risk. The top was a lonely place to be, in a life that wasn’t perfect at all. And Simon had just gotten a glimpse of that for the first time. Most people never knew.
Not surprisingly, Blaise couldn’t sleep that night and decided to work late. Concentrating on her work always calmed her. She was doing early research for several political profiles she wanted to pitch to Charlie. And with Zack Austin watching her now, the heat was on. She had to be even better than she had been, to justify her existence and hold her own, although the ratings still loved her. But with changes in management, you never knew. She finished at two A.M., and was making herself a cup of warm milk, when Simon heard her and walked in. He was still dressed too.
Blaise smiled at him as she poured the milk into a mug. At that hour, tired, she looked vulnerable and younger than she was. And he looked tired too. He had been reading old e-mails from Meg, wondering how he had gotten into such a mess, sacrificed his integrity, and done something he knew was wrong. She was a married woman, and despite her promises that she didn’t keep, he had gone on. To him, loving her seemed like a poor excuse. He knew better than to do what he’d done. And this was the first time he had gotten involved with a married woman.
“You and Salima sound great together,” she complimented him, as she sat down at the kitchen table, and he smiled. “If all else fails, we can open a restaurant and nightclub. You cook, the two of you sing after dinner, and I can wait on tables,” she teased, and he laughed. At least she had a sense of humor about it, but he could see that she was worried and exhausted.
“That’ll never happen. They may give you a tough time, but they’d be suicidal to get rid of you. You’re an icon.”
“Even icons get fired. If my ratings ever slipped, I’d be dead meat in about five minutes.”
“That’s a hell of a way to live,” he commented.
“The fast lane. It comes at a high price.”
“Is it worth it?” he asked her honestly, curious about her. He liked how straightforward she was with him, and about everything. He had the feeling that he could ask her anything and she’d tell the truth. He had judged her well. It was why she and Harry were still friends. She was a woman eminently worthy of respect.
“Sometimes it’s worth it,” she said, looking thoughtful. “I love what I do. It’s exciting. I guess it’s glamorous, which isn’t why I do it. Maybe I love the challenge. I’ve had fun doing it for a lot of years. I don’t like the insecurity anymore, or the pressure. It’s like playing Russian roulette every day. But the highs are pretty high. It’s addictive.”
“I don’t think I could do it,” he said thoughtfully. “In fact, I know I couldn’t. I don’t like risk. I’m not a gambler, and I like a quiet life. And I don’t like playing by other people’s rules. My parents taught me that. My father is an inventor and he taught me to think outside the box. And my mom is pretty out there too. They’re both eccentric. But thinking outside the box is why I do what I do. I teach kids not to accept limitations, of any kind. If they can dream it, they can do it. My father taught me that.”
“But why at Caldwell?” she asked. She was curious about him too. He was so smart to be buried away in a small school in Massachusetts. She thought he was capable of more.
“I don’t know. It’s easy, comfortable. I’d like to work at a bigger school, like Perkins in Massachusetts outside Boston, or one of the big schools for the blind here in New York, like the Institute for Special Education. I kind of got stuck at Caldwell. I got involved with someone and didn’t want to leave. I haven’t started to resolve it until now. I was trapped. I think this break, with Caldwell closing for a while, is what I needed.”
“You got involved with someone at the school?”
He nodded. “Another teacher. She’s married with three kids. She said she was getting divorced. And instead of waiting for her to do it, I jumped the gun. I knew better, but I was lonely, she was bored. I hadn’t been in a relationship for a while, and I fell madly in love with her. Three years later she’s still married and has a thousand reasons not to leave him. It goes against everything I believe. I can’t do it anymore. I just told her.”
“Maybe she’ll leave him now,” she said, thinking about Andrew. But he hadn’t left his wife when she broke it off. She still believed that if he had loved her, he would have. Some people just never leave. They get away with what they can for a while, and then do it again with someone else. “I did something like that myself.” She was honest with him, and he looked at her, intrigued. “I knew it was wrong too. Same story. Only he lied to me, and said he was in the process of divorce. He wasn’t. He just lied. And I believed him for a year. Then the house of cards came down when I found out he’d lied. I broke it off, and I figured he’d leave her then and clean it up. He never did. He’s still with her four years later. He still calls sometimes, and I talk to him. I know I shouldn’t, but there’s no one else, so I talk to him anyway, and he makes me feel like shit all over again. Some people have a real knack for doing that.” She looked at him ruefully, and he smiled.
“I hate the dishonesty,” Simon said, looking pained. “She lies to him, she lies to me. How can you have a relationship built on lies?”
“You can’t,” she answered for him. “I tried. And I thought he was honest with me, but he wasn’t, which is maybe a little worse. But either way, the lies catch up with you in the end. I learned a hell of a lesson, and I haven’t dated anyone since. I don’t even miss it.” And then she corrected herself
with a thoughtful look. “That’s not true actually. I do miss it, and even him sometimes, but I don’t miss the pain of what we had or the price to pay. I wouldn’t do something like that again.”
“Neither would I,” Simon said. “You don’t miss having someone in your life?”
“I do, just not him. And I’ve always been in love with my work, that helps. Probably too much so. Whenever there was a choice to make about priorities, I picked work. I feel guilty about it for Salima, but she’s very forgiving and seems to accept me as I am. It’s the way it is. When I was married to her father, I was more in love with my career than I was with him, and he knew it. Success is heady stuff. I have no regrets though, and we wound up friends. My only regret is that married asshole who lied to me and I should never have gotten involved with. Probably the only man I’ve ever really loved is my first husband. I was married to him when I was barely older than Salima, and widowed when I was twenty-three. He was a cameraman for CNN and got killed by a sniper. After that, all I cared about was my career. It didn’t hurt as much as loving a person. People die, they cheat, they lie, they disappoint you. And work is just work.”
A Perfect Life: A Novel Page 10
