Cut to the crowd. The women were jumping up and down, cheering and whistling their agreement. Valerie’s nails dug into her palms as she waited for the other shoe to drop.
A blushing Eric grinned a bit sheepishly. “I appreciate that, Julie. Really I do.”
“Oh, the camera is just gobbling him up,” Aurora said. “Don’t you think, Vivi and Mercy?” She sighed. “So handsome.”
Eric’s expression turned earnest. “You see, the thing is, I’m not looking for Cinderella.”
“Cinderfella, maybe,” Vivian murmured, merely smiling when Aurora swatted her with her scarf.
“No?” Julie tried to look earnest, but the end result was more confused than anything. “Do you mean the man who has been working for years to help others with their relationships . . . would rather be alone?”
“Actually, I’m not alone. Not anymore.” Eric blushed a little, and shot a quick glance at Jack for support.
Only rocket scientist Julie interpreted the glance entirely differently. She gasped, then scooted forward on her chair. “Are you telling me that you two are—”
“No!” Eric and Jack said in unison.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Mercedes exclaimed. “That woman is a complete idiot.”
“What that woman is, is our savior,” Vivian stated emphatically. “She’s making this whole circus into exactly what it should have been all along. A fluff piece. Women clearly love Eric, and between him and Jack, they’ll run circles around this bimbette. It will run two news cycles, three at the most, then be done with.”
“I just hope our magazine isn’t done with,” Aurora said plaintively. “I was rather enjoying our little endeavor.”
“We’ll be fine.” This from Mercedes. And the certainty in her tone pulled Valerie’s attention from the television in a way that nothing else could have at that moment.
As much as she’d love to believe Vivian, she knew better. She was surprised Mercedes didn’t.
“Jack and I have both found someone,” Eric was saying, pulling their attention back to the television. “In fact, it’s because of my significant other that we’re here today. I thought it was best for everyone if I perpetuated the myth that seemed to grow up around my mystique. I figured if I gave my readers what it seemed they really wanted, I could be free to do what I really wanted. Which was to find that special person and settle down, to begin living the life we all dream of.”
“And why not do both?” Julie asked. “What was it you thought your readers wanted that you couldn’t give them?”
Eric paused, then Jack punched him on the shoulder. “Go ahead, man. It’s love.” He grinned. “And I can honestly say now, it’s worth it.”
Aurora sniffled again. Vivian sighed appreciatively.
Valerie’s heart stopped in her chest. So he’d meant it? He was really in love with her?
“What my readers want is the right man to love and be loved by,” Eric began haltingly, “and . . . so do I.”
Julie’s mouth dropped open. A collective gasp rose from the outside crowd.
“What I’ve realized,” Eric forged on, “is that there is a bit of Prince Charming in every guy. You just have to find the one who makes you strong enough to embrace it. For me, that person is Brice. When he thought I was threatened, when he thought I was in danger, he went charging off to defend me. Without a thought to what it might mean for him, or what repercussions he might suffer. And I knew that if I was even half the man he thinks I am, I had to step up and defend us, too.” He looked at the cameras. “I love you, Brice.”
“Oh,” Aurora sniffled. “This is just the most beautiful thing.”
Vivian dabbed at the corners of her eyes. Even Mercedes’ eyes looked a bit moist.
The crowd outside looked both stunned, and moved. The camera panned, but there were very few expressions of disgust or antipathy.
Eric turned back to Julie, and though his hands were clenched tightly on the arms of his chair, he was clearly more in control now. “So that’s my secret. I’m gay. And I was afraid that if my readers found out, they wouldn’t trust me with relationship advice. I let that fear keep me locked up like a virtual prisoner for years. I didn’t have enough faith in myself, or in my readers, to hope they’d trust that issues surrounding relationships and love are the same for us all. That my insight was valid because we’re all looking for the same thing.”
“I guess what it boils down to is that we all just want to connect with that special someone, don’t we?” Julie simpered.
“Exactly. I hope my readers out there will understand and accept my apology for not giving them the credit they all deserved.”
Julie reached out to take Eric’s hand in a tight grip. “I’m sure if they’re anything like me, they all will,” she said, her voice full of emotion. Then she turned to the camera herself, sighed, and laughed a little at herself. “Well, that was something, wasn’t it? We’ll be back right after this break, when Steve will be talking with Dr. Edmund Friedman about the ten best ways to protect your pet from the summer heat.”
Vivian muted the television and tossed the remote on the table. Aurora reached for a tissue and noisily blew her nose. Mercedes stayed where she was, deep in thought.
Valerie merely steeled herself for what came next. “I know how disappointed you are in me, in all of this. I should have come to you when Eric first confessed.”
“Yes,” Mercedes said. “You should have.”
Valerie ducked her chin. “I know. It’s just . . . I know this is no excuse and I’m not offering it as one, but . . .” She looked up again, and held their gazes directly. They deserved that much at the very least. “I’ve been bouncing around the fashion industry since I was a teenager.”
“We know,” Aurora said quietly.
“You . . . know?” Valerie’s train of thought stumbled badly. “But—”
“Go on with what you have to say,” Mercedes instructed. “Then we’ll say our piece.”
Scrambling for the right words, Valerie forced herself to continue. “I’ve dreamed of fitting in someplace, finding my niche. I never thought it would be so hard. I was almost ready to give up when I answered your ad. And from the moment I stepped foot in Glass Slipper, the moment I met you, talked with you, took over the job, I knew I’d finally found it.” She clasped and unclasped her hands. “I know I was less than truthful during the application process. But I also knew I could do this job and do it well. When you chose me, I was bound and determined to do whatever it took to prove I was worth your trust.” She faltered badly then, as the enormity of what she’d ruined really hit her for the first time. It was truly over. Everything she’d worked for. And she had no one to blame but herself.
She worked hard not to cry, but the sniffle came anyway, as she once again held their gaze. “When I landed Prince Charming, I knew I was on my way. So when Eric told me the truth, I panicked. We both did.” She couldn’t do it; she couldn’t look at them a moment longer. The disappointment in their eyes was so keen it was like a dagger in the heart. “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t amount to anything. And if I’m criminally responsible in some way, then I’ll face that, too. But . . .” She trailed off. “No, no buts. There is no excuse. I’m so sorry.”
Vivian huffed a sigh and pushed off the couch. “For pity’s sake, are we done torturing the poor girl?”
Mercedes shot Vivian a hard look. “I think recanting her sins is not only the very least she owes us,” she turned to look at Valerie, “but the least she owes herself.”
Aurora came to Valerie and took her hands. “Dear, we truly adore you. And we know how hard you’ve worked to bring off the launch of this magazine. We’ve been mightily impressed by the job you’ve done, so much, in fact—”
“Not now, Aurora,” Mercedes said.
Aurora frowned at her, then patted Valerie’s hand and sighed. “Yes, we’re disappointed in the choices you have made, but we all make mistakes, darling.” She glanced at Mercedes. “Well, most
of us.”
Vivian stood. “I’d like to talk with the two of you, alone, if you don’t mind, Valerie.”
Valerie wasn’t quite sure what she was hearing, or what was happening. Her gaze flicked from Aurora, to Vivian, to Mercedes. “Certainly, I—”
“I know what you wish to discuss, Vivian, and it will have to wait,” Mercedes stated flatly.
What was left to talk about? Valerie wondered. She’d tendered her resignation. Unless it was to discuss the legal ramifications.
“Right now I believe we have some phone calls to make,” Mercedes continued. “To our advertisers, for starters. And we’ll need to call a staff meeting immediately.” She glanced at her watch. “We’ll need to book flights for all of us. I’d like to be packed up and heading back as soon as possible. I’m sure there are numerous calls coming in from other media sources, but I don’t want to hold any interviews or do any press of any kind until we see what that ridiculous Brock Sullivan plans to do now, and certainly not before we’ve convened the rest of the magazine staff. From now on, all decisions should be done by committee.” She finally looked at Valerie. “Well, don’t just stand there. We’re paying you to handle these details, aren’t we?”
Valerie swallowed, but it was hard to get past the lump in her throat. “You want me to handle this?” she croaked out.
“Did you not just get done telling us this was your dream job?”
“I—well, yes.” Valerie straightened her shoulders, her heart beating so hard she was sure the thumping was visible. “Yes, I did.”
Mercedes waved her perfectly polished, sparingly decorated hand. “Then dream on. We haven’t got time to waste.”
Valerie didn’t know whether to burst into tears, or hug her. So she did both.
Mercedes didn’t know quite what to do, but Valerie was already moving on to hug Aurora, squeezing her tight, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
“There, there, dear,” Aurora told her, patting her back. “We’ll see this through as a team. We progressive women have to stick together.”
“I won’t let you down again, I swear it.”
Then Vivian stepped forward and said, “I believe there’s one detail you have to take care of first, honey. A man just professed his love for you. It’s been my experience that it’s hard enough for them to do that in private, let alone on national television. That takes guts.” She eyed Valerie speculatively. “What about you? Do you have the guts?”
“Vivian, honestly, don’t interfere,” Aurora chided.
“She’s needed here at the moment,” Mercedes added.
Vivian snorted and waved her hand at both of them. “Jobs come and jobs go.” She looked at Valerie. “And this one isn’t going anywhere, at the moment, at any rate. We’ll handle what needs handling. We run a multimillion-dollar corporation, for God’s sake. We’re not exactly helpless females here. If we can’t handle a little scandal, we’re not the women I thought we were.” She waved her gold wand and her lips curved. “Love, on the other hand, is a rare and wondrous thing that doesn’t always come along at the most convenient time. And, I’ve learned, it doesn’t always wait.” She turned Valerie by the shoulders and pushed her toward the door. “A career doesn’t keep you warm at night, either. But I’m betting Jack does. Now go find him, already.”
“But—” Valerie turned around. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Aurora and Mercedes came to stand beside Vivian. “I’m sure he will, too, dear,” Aurora said with a soft smile. “You hang on to the understanding ones.”
Mercedes gave a short nod. “Jack and Eric both might need your publicist skills to extract them from the studio in one piece.”
Stunned by this second turnaround, when she was still reeling from the first, Valerie didn’t exactly know what to do.
“We’ve got a lot to discuss,” Vivian said meaningfully to the other two women. “Why are you still standing there?” she said to Valerie. “Your prince awaits.”
And with the blessings of her most unexpected trio of fairy godmothers, Valerie fairly ran out of the hotel suite and went after Jack.
Now all she had to do was figure out what she was going to say to him when she found him.
Commitment
Women think men are afraid of it. And they are. But not for the reason women think. Men think women view commitment as a guarantee. There are no guarantees. Only a promise. To have faith, trust, and hope. And a willingness to find a solution, even when it seems impossible.
Chapter 21
Jack stood by the limo in the rear alley while Eric sat inside it, on a private call with Brice. Thankfully the mob out front hadn’t discovered their hiding place. Judging from the reaction of the people on set, and the monitors stationed around the studio showing scenes of said mob, it appeared as if they’d pulled off the miracle. At least on the face of it. Jack knew Valerie was likely handling a landslide of calls, not to mention the fallout of the godmothers. All he wanted to do was get back to her side, which he planned to do just as soon as Eric finished talking to Brice.
Thankfully Eric had gotten word to Brice before he’d gone on the program, which had left Brock Sullivan with Shelby as his only guest . . . and no big exposé to expose. Jack imagined she hadn’t been happy to have her all-about-me television debut ruined, but he couldn’t seem to care all that much.
And as if his thoughts had conjured her, the studio door opened and out she stepped. In fact, he had to blink twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. She pulled out a cigarette then stopped when she saw him standing there. If she was surprised to see him, she didn’t let it show.
Her dark hair was slicked back into a tight bun, her makeup was heavily but expertly applied. A lanky five-feet-eleven, she was wearing a slip dress that hung on her frame as negligently as it had on the hanger. She was gorgeous in an almost offhand manner. Stunning without having to do anything to make you aware of it. Her impact on a room full of people was immediate. “Hello, Jack,” she said, her accented voice a soft caress. He’d forgotten how beautiful it could be, seeing as the last time he’d heard it, it had been at a high screech.
“Hello,” he said, surprised to discover that he wasn’t feeling all that much one way or the other about seeing her again.
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. They said you’d already gone.”
“How did the taping go?” he asked.
“Now, now, you’re not angry about that, are you?” She tried her little pout and poor-beautiful-me smile, but he wasn’t buying. To her credit, she’d matured enough that she quickly dropped the pretense. “I hope you aren’t taking it personally. You know I wouldn’t have said anything bad about you.”
Jack just laughed. “So why are you here? If you needed the money—”
She looked affronted. “It wasn’t for the money. Enrique, my manager, got a call from the show.” She lifted an elegantly slim shoulder in an absent shrug. “I’ve been trying to break in to the American market, and we thought this would be good exposure.”
Jack shook his head, knowing she spoke the absolute truth. Some things hadn’t changed. Shelby would always be the center of her own world.
“You’re not angry with me, I hope,” she said. “If anything, I should be angry with you for stealing my thunder.” She smiled a little. “Although I guess you think I deserved it.”
Jack thought about his carefully constructed responses to all the questions he’d fielded about his first marriage. About how they’d just been two people who were wrong for each other and who’d been fortunate to figure that out before causing each other too much pain. Funny how it wasn’t until right now, looking at her again, talking to her, that he realized the absolute truth of that statement. It didn’t negate the pain he’d gone through, or the confusion and subsequent closing off of his emotions. But it finally put to bed the blame issues, his guilt over the marriage’s failure.
“No,” he told her. “I think you
deserve whatever happiness you can find. We all do.”
Her carefully sculpted eyebrows lifted. “Well, well. How mature of you.”
“I guess the best we can hope for is to not hurt anyone needlessly.”
“I suppose I could say you hurt me today, but considering your very public profession of love, I guess you were only doing what you felt you had to.” She smiled, and for once it was sincere, if still somewhat calculating.
But that was who Shelby was. If he’d only accepted that years ago, he could have saved himself a lot of heartache.
“I hope you realize I was only doing the same thing.”
Jack nodded, finding it easy to be magnanimous now that the crisis had been averted. “What are your plans now?”
She shrugged again. “Enrique is meeting with people. I’m sure my trip to New York won’t be wasted.”
“No,” Jack said, lips curving. “I don’t imagine it will be.”
The limo window lowered behind him. “All done here,” Eric said. “Oh, hello, Shelby. Long time.”
Shelby’s smile tightened. “Not long enough, apparently.”
Eric simply put the window back up without further comment. Jack couldn’t hide his grin. Some things, it seemed, were never going to change.
Shelby turned her attention back to him, then lifted up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Best of luck to you, Jack. I hope you are happy.” She wiped the lipstick off with her thumb. “I have to find Enrique.” Then, with a little shimmy to straighten her dress and a quick hand to smooth her hair, she turned gracefully and reentered the studio, much in the same way a queen would enter her castle.
“She’s all yours, America. And don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Jack said, smiling and shaking his head as he climbed into the limo.
“Wow, bet that was fun,” Eric said wryly as he closed the door. “Like root canal.”
“It wasn’t so bad, actually. And maybe it was just as well. You know, put the last of the ghosts finally to rest.”
Dear Prince Charming Page 31
