She was cut off by a gasp from Vivian, who was clasping her gold “wand” to her chest. “What the hell?”
“What is it?” Aurora asked, hurrying over. “It’s Margo Fontana and that cute Benjamin Styles, isn’t it? I told you that marriage wouldn’t last a month. I’m telling you, you’d think Hollywood couples would realize it doesn’t work when the man marries someone more famous than he is. Their fragile egos simply can’t take it.” She glanced at Jack. “No offense, mind you.”
Jack just raised his mug to her, quite happy to have the focus shifted away from what a great guy he supposedly was. “None taken.”
“Hush, Aurora!” Vivian exclaimed. “Everyone, come here. I think we should all look at this.” She looked at him. “Especially you, Jack.”
A familiar name blared from the TV set, and they all froze.
“Prince Charming. Is he a prince? Or a pretender? Tune into Brock Sullivan Live this morning at ten as we discuss the nation’s latest heartthrob . . . with his ex-wife. The former Mrs. Jack Lambert, international fashion model, Shelby Lane, will be here live in our studio to tell us why her ex is no prince.”
Jack could only hear the ringing in his ears that had begun the moment Brock had spoken Shelby’s name. Jesus freaking Christ. What, wrecking his life once wasn’t enough?
Just then, both the suite phone lines and Valerie’s cell phone began going off. “Don’t answer them,” she immediately instructed. “Not until we find out what’s going on.”
Jack looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. He knew exactly what the hell was going on, or about to, anyway. And from the slightly wild look in her eyes, so did she. The shit appeared to be one step away from officially hitting the fan. And hail, hail, the gang was all here, too. Lovely. Just fucking lovely.
“Do you know anything about this, Valerie?” Mercedes asked, her frown so deep there were grooves on either side of her mouth.
“Oh my!” Aurora exclaimed, her hands fluttering to her mouth. “What on earth do you think she’s going to talk about?” She turned to both Valerie and Jack. “What possible scandal could there be? I mean, you’ve discussed your first marriage with Chuck and Vicki.”
“I’m sorry,” Valerie said. “I’m as surprised as you are. The last we knew, she was somewhere overseas doing a photo shoot.”
Vivian tapped her cigarette holder against her thigh. “I wonder how much she’s getting paid for this little revelation. No offense, Jack, but she must have some motivation for traveling halfway around the world just to rat about you and your marriage.”
Aurora reached out to take his arm. “Is there something we should know about, dear? Some rift in your relationship that she might blow out of proportion?”
“I wasn’t the perfect husband, but there was nothing between us that would be considered scandalous.” Jack’s mind was spinning like a hamster wheel, trying to get one step ahead of what was happening, or about to happen, trying in vain to figure out if there was anything he could do to stop it before the whole truth spilled out.
Shelby had known and disliked Eric, mostly because the feeling was mutual, and because she had wanted Jack’s attention exclusively on her and no one else. Everyone was a threat, but none so much in her mind as her husband’s best friend. But she didn’t know Eric was a best-selling author. She’d never bothered to ask what it was he did for a living. For that matter, she wasn’t all too interested in what Jack did for a living. If it wasn’t all about Shelby, she wasn’t interested.
Admittedly, it would sound implausible that a wife didn’t know about her husband’s alter ego. But it was still speculation. She might not want to believe he’d written more than sports columns, but she couldn’t prove he hadn’t. He glanced at Valerie, wishing he could take her aside so the two of them could figure out just how to play this.
Just then his hip buzzed. He reached down to unclip his phone from his belt. Eric. The women were all glued to the television, waiting to see if any other teasers for Brock Sullivan Live aired, so he turned his back and flipped the phone open. “Listen,” he said quietly and without preamble, “you need to get your ass back here right away. Shelby is in town and—”
“What?” Eric said, sounding more than a little freaked out. “Holy shit, so that’s why they called.”
“There’s nothing she can do to hurt us, really. She can’t prove anything. We just have to figure out how to counterpunch. Just get back here so we can begin damage control. And, warning, the godmothers are here.” Jack paused as Eric’s words sank in. “Wait a minute. Who called? What’s going on? Where are you?”
“The Village. Listen, I need to tell you something. Brice is, uh . . . he’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Gone, gone, as in he wasn’t here when I got up. But now I think I know why.”
He knew Eric was upset, and rightfully so, but right now he was more worried about Shelby’s impending television debut. “Listen, that totally sucks, but I really need you to—”
“No, you need to listen.” Eric broke off, swore, then said, “I—last night we . . . last night was—” He broke off again, then heaved a deep sigh and said, “It was incredible. I—I told him everything.”
Jack gripped the phone. “You told him what?”
“I love him, Jack. And I—I couldn’t lie to him. I can’t. So, I told him. Everything.”
“Everything? You mean—”
“Yes,” came the almost hushed reply. “Only, I just got up and . . . he’s gone.”
“Shit,” Jack said.
“It gets worse. I picked up my cell phone to call him, only to see that I’d already gotten a call this morning. I—I was asleep and Brice must have answered it. I checked it out. It was a producer from the Brock Sullivan Live show. I thought it was someone calling me, wanting to book you for the show.”
“Holy fu—you don’t think he’s—”
“That’s exactly what I think. I mean, I wouldn’t think he could do something like that to me. Last night he seemed really touched that I’d confessed, and I was shocked to wake up alone. I just—” There was another pause, then, “Wait! I just found a note taped to the bathroom mirror. He’s gone to the taping. But not to rat us out.” His voice went hoarse. “He, uh, he went to protect me. Jesus.” The emotion was thick in his voice, even as he chuckled weakly. “I guess I have a Prince Charming of my own.”
Jack’s mind was racing. “You have to get back here. We have our own live interview to give. I’m sure we can come up with some way to fix this.”
“I’m on my way. And . . . I’m sorry.”
“Hey, none of this is your fault. Don’t bother coming here. Just meet me at the studio, okay?” He flipped the phone shut and took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. He looked at Valerie first and gave a very slight shake to his head, then looked at the godmothers. “I think we should all sit down. There’s something I have to tell you.”
“Jack,” Valerie said, alarmed, “why don’t you and I talk first. I’m sure whatever crisis Eric is having can be dealt with. No need to bring everyone into it.” She tried to smile encouragingly at the godmothers. “Besides, we need to get downstairs. I’m sure the car has arrived and you’re due on the Good Morning set in less than thirty minutes.”
“But what about Brock Sullivan?” Aurora asked. “Shouldn’t one of us stay to see what happens?”
But no one was listening to her, they were all watching Jack. “I think you might want to call and cancel the taping.”
Now the godmothers looked truly alarmed, Aurora included. “What is the problem?” Mercedes asked him.
“Does this have something to do with your ex?” Vivian asked. “Because I’m certain we can defuse anything she might bring up. In fact, you can use your spot on the Good Morning show to do just that. Although if you suspect you know what she’s going to say, I think you might want to explain that now.”
Valerie had shifted behind the three women and was shaking her head, making
cutting motions at her throat and motioning toward the bedroom. We need to talk. NOW, she mouthed.
He appreciated that she still wanted to salvage this, but the jig was up. They couldn’t stop Shelby and they couldn’t stop Brice. They should have known this was going to blow up. But even he couldn’t have predicted just how spectacular Prince Charming’s downfall was going to be. But Vivian’s comment had given him an idea. He couldn’t salvage this, but there was one princely thing left to do. It wouldn’t save him or Eric, but it would spare the godmothers from suffering the fallout from the bad press that was sure to follow. And, more important, it would preserve Valerie’s job. All she had to do was play along.
“Please, have a seat,” he said, searching for the right way to tell them. By the time they’d all arranged themselves on various chairs and couches—except Valerie, who’d chosen to remain standing—he still had no clue where to begin. “This is going to come as a shock to you all,” he said, with emphasis on the word all. He sent Valerie a brief look, imploring her to just play along with him. “But I’m not the real Prince Charming. Eric is.”
Mercedes’ mouth dropped open. Aurora gasped. Vivian, however, just smiled. “Well, well. I wondered what was going on.”
“You . . . you knew?” This from Valerie, who was looking heartsick, and when she glanced at him, a whole lot angry.
Vivian shrugged. “Let’s just say I had my suspicions about how Jack here wrote those touchy-feely advice books.” She smiled at him. “No offense, darling, it’s just that you’re a man’s man. But trust me, we women like you just fine that way.”
Valerie merely gaped, along with Aurora.
Mercedes, however, was frowning deeply again. “What possible explanation could you have for perpetrating such a ruse?”
“First I need to tender my apologies. To all of you.” Again, he shot a quick look at Valerie. If she’d play along as if this was just as much of a shock to her as it was to the godmothers, she might be able to salvage her job. “We never intended to hurt anyone. It’s just that Eric has been in the closet about, well, everything. For years. And he wanted a way out.”
“You mean, he’s just now come out?” This from Vivian. “How interesting. He’s certainly done it with flair. I rather like his friend. What was his name? Bruce?”
Aurora and Mercedes looked at Vivian as if she’d sprouted a third eye. “Good heavens, Vivi,” Aurora stated, “this is hardly the time to discuss the man’s love life. We’ve a full-fledged scandal on our hands!”
Jack glanced at the clock and began to sweat. “It’s Brice. And, yes, he certainly did. He just wanted a personal life, but with the whole mystique surrounding the Prince Charming thing, he didn’t dare. He’d spent years convincing women their prince really did exist and—”
“He knew they’d give up if they found out Prince Charming was gay,” Aurora said with a soft sigh as she clasped a hand to her bosom. “Oh, how tragic for him. And he’s such a nice man.”
Mercedes was still glaring at him. “More likely he knew book sales would plummet.”
“He doesn’t care about book sales,” Jack said. “In fact, he wants to retire altogether, but he cares about his readers.”
“So he decided to lie to them?” Mercedes demanded.
“No, he just . . .” Jack didn’t know how to explain, but he knew he was running out of time. Valerie began to open her mouth, so he jumped back in before she could reveal she’d been part of it. “He was just trying to find a way to make everyone happy. What he wasn’t planning on was falling in love.”
Aurora’s face softened. “Eric is in love?”
“With Brice?” Vivian asked. “Well, well.”
“Let’s not get sidetracked here, ladies,” Mercedes instructed. “It’s all well and fine that he’s found someone, but our integrity is on the line.”
“Yes, well, that’s why I’m telling you this. Eric’s, uh—Brice is getting ready to defend Eric’s integrity.”
“Excuse me?” This from Valerie, who’d been watching the discourse like a Ping-Pong match. “He’s what? How exactly does he plan on doing that? And why?”
“Eric told Brice everything. Last night.”
“Everything?” Valerie repeated, going a bit pale.
Jack nodded. “The Brock Sullivan Live show called this morning, apparently trying to book me on the show with Shelby, to do a point-counterpoint kind of thing. Only Brice got the call, and when he heard Shelby was going to trash me and Eric, he took off—”
“To defend the honor of the man he loves,” Aurora finished, clasping her bosom once again with a little swoon. “How romantic.”
Vivian hooted. “Oh, I love this.”
“Love this?” Mercedes demanded. “We’re going to be ruined! On live national television.”
“Oh, stop being so melodramatic, Mercy,” Vivian shot back.
“You haven’t begun to see melodrama,” Mercedes huffed. “That show is nothing but a viper pit of melodrama. They’re going to turn Glass Slipper into a laughingstock.”
“They’re going to try,” Jack said. “But I’m not going to let them.”
“What are you talking about?” Valerie asked. “What are you going to do?”
“We can’t control what Brice and Shelby say to Sullivan, but I have my own live interview in about thirty minutes. Which airs before Brock goes on.” He looked at Valerie, then at the godmothers. “I’m going to go on and explain the whole thing. We’ll pull the rug right out from underneath them. It might still blow up in our faces, and for that I’m truly, truly sorry. We never intended this. But you have my word that I will do everything to minimize the damage to you, the magazine, and your business. I’ll make it clear you had no knowledge of this. When it’s over, we’ll come straight back here. Eric can get his lawyers, or whatever, together and hopefully come to some agreement on how to handle this.”
“Jack, listen, we need to talk about this,” Valerie said, panicking.
He looked at her. “I want you to stay here, okay? You’ll have phone calls to field, and damage-control fallout to work on. Just wait until I’m done, okay? Before you talk to anyone.”
“Jack—”
“Promise me, Valerie.”
She paused then, holding his gaze, and he knew she understood what he was trying to do. For Glass Slipper. And for her.
“I need to handle this one,” he told her. “Trust me.”
She nodded but said nothing. No rules, no suggestions, no unstoppable need to control. And though the apprehension and dread were there in her face, the look in her eyes was one of trust, and faith.
He hit the elevator running, praying he was doing the right thing, that now that he’d earned her trust, he wouldn’t fail her.
Praying that he wouldn’t lose the one thing he knew he couldn’t afford to let slip away.
Trust
You can ask for it. You can be asked to give it. You can even believe you’re feeling it. But real trust has to be earned. And you won’t truly know if it has—until it’s put to the test.
Chapter 20
Valerie wanted nothing more than to sprint after Jack. Not because she didn’t trust him. After last night, she had no doubt whatsoever that he would do everything he could to minimize the damage and pain this fallout was going to cause.
“Valerie, dear,” Aurora said gently. “Did you know about this?”
That was why she wanted to run. She didn’t want to face the godmothers, face telling them her role in this. Jack had made it very obvious he was trying to pretend as if he and Eric had hatched the whole plan by themselves. If she told the godmothers she’d had no idea they’d pulled a fast one on her, she knew Jack and Eric would swear to it and she’d probably keep her job. Of course, that might be an appropriate punishment right there, considering the damage control she was going to have to try to spin over the next several days.
But if Jack could face down all of America on live television, she could certainly face down t
he three women who’d given her a chance at something special. A chance she had no one but herself to blame for blowing.
So she held their gazes squarely when she said, “Yes. Yes, I did. I know I’ve let you down. I’ve let us all down, including myself. I wanted this job more than you can understand, but I’ll tender my resignation immediately. I know it’s not enough, and that it comes too late, but I’m sorry. So very sorry.”
Mercedes looked deeply troubled. Aurora appeared more hurt than anything. It was Vivian, whose expression was more of deliberation, who spoke first. “We’ll discuss resignations in a moment.” She motioned to the seat across from the couch on which they were all perched. “Why don’t you sit down and start at the beginning.” She checked her watch. “We have time.” She gestured to the chair again when Valerie hesitated. “Go on.”
“Okay, but first, do you think we should somehow alert the Sullivan show to Jack’s appearance on Good Morning?”
“I’m sure they’re well aware of his appearance,” Mercedes said. “It will be more explosive to go on directly after he’s been on a competing network, all smiles and charm.”
“But maybe if they know Jack is going to go on and spill the beans, robbing them of their exclusive, they’ll scrap their plans to sling mud. The damage will still be done, but at least they won’t have the opportunity to add insult to injury, or to fan the flames of indignation.”
“You might have a point,” Mercedes said thoughtfully.
“No, no, no,” Vivian admonished. “I say let the old fool go on with his ridiculous show. Jack will have his say, screwing an unsuspecting Sullivan out of his tawdry scoop. And Shelby will just look like a bitter witch out to milk her fifteen minutes of fame off her ex-husband.”
“I don’t know,” Valerie said, “it could just amp up the whole thing.”
Aurora looked at Valerie, the disappointment still clear in her faded blue eyes. “Brock Sullivan will go on with his program no matter what. If he’s given advance warning, it will just allow him to adjust his slant. Best to let him scramble to catch up.”
Dear Prince Charming Page 29
