Wife in the Fast Lane

by Karen Quinn

  “I’m sorry,” Christy said to the board, her face burning. They were staring at her in stony silence. “You didn’t need to hear that.”

  “Let’s take a five-minute break,” Katherine suggested. Everyone nodded in agreement. There was an embarrassed scramble to the coffeepot.

  As the room broke up, Katherine approached Christy. “Maybe you’d better go to Colby. You don’t want to screw around with Brownie Rich.”

  “I can’t leave. This is way too important.”

  “Christy, let me take it from here. I have the same information as you. I know what decisions need to be made. That’s why you made me COO, so I could back you up in crucial matters.”

  “Are you sure?” Christy asked.

  “I’m positive.”

  “Okay, but Katherine, would you please tell them where the accusations are coming from? At least let the board know that you had relations with those men.”

  “I will. I’m just trying to get up my nerve. Now go. I don’t want to see Renata lose her place at Colby.”

  Christy made it all the way to the elevator before she realized what she was doing. Then she turned around and walked back into the meeting just as it was coming to order again. “Now, here’s our plan…” Christy said, taking control. She couldn’t believe she had almost walked out on her board in the middle of a crisis just to satisfy Brownie Rich.

  DEAR DIARY,

  YESTERDAY I MADE A SPESHAL INVITATION FOR MICHAEL TO COME TO DINNER WITH ME IN THE KITCHEN. YOK WAH PUT IT ON HIS CHAIR AT BREAKFAST. MICHAEL ASKED IF HE COULD BRING CHRISTY. I SAID YES OR HE’D THINK I DIDN’T LIKE HER WHICH I DON’T. I MADE MY FAMOUS CHICKEN TACO CASSEROLE THAT GRANDMA USED TO LOVE. NECTER NECTAR HELPED ME SET THE TABLE WITH THE GOOD CHINA. DINNER WAS READY AT 7. CHRISTY CAME ON TIME. MICHAEL WAS 20 MINUTES LATE DUE TO TRAFFIC. I WORE MY WILLY WONKA OOMPA LOOMPA GOGGLES AT THE BEGINNING SO MICHAEL WOULD THINK I WAS CUTE (WHICH HE DID). DINNER WAS MOSTLY FUN. WE TALKED ABOUT WHAT I WAS STUDYING IN SCHOOL (THE INDIANA CORNBELT), OUR FAVORITE SHOWS, AND HEADLICE (WHICH MICHAEL HAD AS A KID—ME TOO!!!!! WE’RE SO ALIKE!!). I’M HOPING THIS GIVES MICHAEL AND CHRISTY THE IDEA TO INVITE ME TO DINNER WITH THEM WHICH WOULD BE THE POLITE THING TO DO AT THIS JUNCTURE.

  I’VE DECIDED TO CHANGE MY NAME TO STRINGBEAN. THAT’S BECAUSE MICHAEL LOVES PEOPLE WITH NICKNAMES (LIKE HOW HE LOVES CHRISTY WHO HE ALWAYS CALLS BEEGEE). I DON’T KNOW WHY I DIDN’T THINK OF THIS BEFORE.

  MRS. DE MILLE INVITED ME OVER FOR TEA AFTER SCHOOL TOMORROW. THAT’S ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS TO DO BECAUSE HER BUTLER SERVES MINI SANDWICHES AND STUFF LIKE THAT ON BEAUTIFUL SILVER TRAYS THAT USED TO BELONG TO THE RUSSIAN ROYAL FAMILY.

  LOVE,

  STRINGBEAN

  Reunited and It Feels So Good

  Christy stood outside the limousine on the tarmac at Teterboro waiting for Michael’s jet to come to a stop. He had been in Geneva for three days, and she was determined to show him just how much she had missed him. Michael’s driver stashed an ice bucket with a six-pack of Amstel in the backseat. Christy popped the top and poured a glass. She stood outside the car holding the beer, and wearing the black Russian sable coat Michael had bought her, with nothing underneath. Her plan was to flash Michael as he deplaned so he would know she meant business. I’ll bet his ex-wife never did this, Christy thought.

  Christy was doing her best to remain Michael’s irresistible lover. But what she really wanted to do was hide under the covers and sleep for eighteen hours. The sex-for-capital scandal just wouldn’t go away. The company’s stock had dropped five points since the story hit the papers. Even though they’d denied everything, the Journal just ran an article where another of Katherine’s ex-lovers claimed Christy had offered him sex if he’d invest in her company. A bad picture of Christy appeared on top of the story. Why does the paper print lies like that? And couldn’t they have used a more flattering photo? she wondered. It was all so humiliating. A few board members expressed concern about Christy’s ability to lead.

  On top of that, Brownie was micromanaging her project. Christy told her that if she could build a three-hundred-million-dollar company, she could run a fifth-grade graduation. But Brownie was having none of it. Every comment she made seemed to imply that Christy wasn’t cutting it as a Colby Mommy. And then there was Renata. Christy had managed to outsource most of her care. Eve was scheduling a few hours a week for the two of them, but it wasn’t working. Renata just didn’t want to be with Christy. They ate lunch together yesterday and barely spoke. Renata’s class had a science fair on Monday to which all the parents were invited. Renata asked Nectar to come but didn’t mention it to Eve, so she couldn’t schedule it on Christy’s calendar. Mrs. Smart called and chided Christy for not being there. Next week, Colby was having a special mother-daughter assembly. Christy would have to write a letter to Renata extolling their special bond. But there was no bond to extol yet. Christy was lost. Mrs. Smart had made a point of telling her not to send Nectar or Eve in her place.

  Michael stepped out through the door of his plane, beaming at her before he realized she wasn’t looking at him.

  “Beegee, I can’t believe you met me here,” Michael said, breaking Christy’s train of thought. “And you brought me an Amstel. I love you.”

  Dammit, she thought when she realized she had missed her chance to flash him. He took the glass from her hand, then kissed Christy with the passion he’d shown when they were first married. She returned the sentiment as enthusiastically as she could. Christy would have given anything to feel amorous at this moment. If only she weren’t so tired. When Michael finally let go, Christy stepped back and discreetly opened her coat, revealing his prize.

  “You are so sexy,” he said.

  “Come in the car and let me show you just how sexy I can be,” she whispered.

  Anthony put Michael’s bags in the trunk as the couple piled into the backseat. “I’ll put up the partition,” Michael said, pressing the button to raise the soundproof privacy window.

  Michael downed his beer and opened his wife’s coat, burying his head in her breasts. “God, how I’ve missed these.” Christy closed her eyes and moaned as though she was turned on even though she was thinking about firing Rick Slotnik, who was doing a terrible job making the sex scandal disappear. Michael pulled Christy’s coat off entirely and admired her body. “Mmmm, you’re so hot.” She moaned as he ripped off his clothes. In a frenzy, Michael kicked over the ice bucket. Christy made fake orgasm sounds, all the while wondering which of Katherine’s ex-lovers would come out of the woodwork next and why they were claiming to have had sex with Christy. Was it possible that Katherine was behind this? She felt Michael’s heart pounding as he lay next to her.

  “You are a goddess, Christy,” he said. “I thought I might be losing you. You just haven’t seemed so glad to see me lately.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I’ve been distracted. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been lusting for you since you left,” she replied, trying to sound all hot and steamy. She hated faking it with Michael, but the alternative was worse.

  “I can’t wait for next week,” he added.

  “What’s next week?”

  “You know, you and me, Chamonix. Climbing Mont Blanc.”

  Oh no, Christy thought. I totally forgot. “That’s next week…?”

  “Finally, we’ll be alone. No work, no responsibilities, no cell phones. It’ll be fantastic.”

  “I can’t go.”

  “What? Why not?” There was genuine disappointment in Michael’s voice. He sat up and reached for his clothes. His hair was as scruffy as a pound puppy’s. It was Christy’s favorite look for him.

  “Things are just too tenuous at work, babe. And I’ve got that mother-daughter assembly on Wednesday. Mrs. Smart said I had to be there,” Christy said, putting on her coat.

  “Oh, if Mrs. Smart said you had to be there, then I guess you do.” She could see Michael going to a very dark place.

  “Michael, please. I’m trying to do right b
y Renata. I’m trying to run my company. I’m trying to be a good wife to you. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Beegee, you said things weren’t going to change. Well, they’ve changed. We should think seriously about boarding schools. At least get Renata off your plate.”

  “I don’t want to get her off my plate. I just want to figure out how to be her mom. I have no idea how to do it, and I can’t make everything slow down. Give me time. I’m not used to all this juggling.” It felt good to finally admit at least this much. “Oh, and Renata wants to be called ‘Stringbean’ from now on.”

  “Stringbean? Why?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe she really likes vegetables.”

  “Stringbean, eh.” Michael nodded and changed the subject. “Galit Portal called today. She wants to write that book about me.”

  “See, I told you she was gonna call. Did you say yes?”

  “Not at first, and I said it was because of the way the Journal’s been treating you. But she assured me she’d be fair, even had Ian Malik call to tell me how pleased he was with his book. So I agreed. I figure if I build a good relationship with her, it could end up helping you. I hope I’m making the right decision.”

  “You are, I’m sure of it. A positive biography will be great for the company. And you know you’ve arrived when you become the subject of a Galit Portal book. Plus, it’s nice of you even to think about saving me from those mean people at the Journal.” Christy was proud of Michael. For a few moments, she felt like a newlywed again, nestled safely in her hero’s arms.

  Renata Uses Inappropriate Language

  DEAR DIARY,

  I AM SO GHETTO COMPARED TO EVERYONE ELSE AT MY SCHOOL. I WISH PEOPLE WOULD STOP TEASING ME ABOUT THAT. I WISH IT WAS A YEAR AGO. THEN GRANDMA WOULD BE ALIVE AND I’D BE GOING TO SCHOOL WITH KIDS WHO WERE JUST LIKE ME. EXCEPT FOR MAYBE THEY WOULDN’T BE AS NATURALLY TALENTED.

  YOUR FRIEND,

  STRINGBEAN

  The mothers and daughters assembled in Mrs. Smart’s classroom. It was a good thing she’d come, Christy thought. If she’d missed the event, she would have been the only mom absent. Each girl stood before the group to read the tribute her mother wrote her. Then the mom reciprocated by sharing her child’s letter of homage. It was as close to a lovefest as they ever throw on the Upper East Side. Christy couldn’t help but notice how Brownie beamed when she read Stephanie’s laudatory essay. She may be a bitch, Christy thought, but she’s a bitch who has a better relationship with her daughter than I have with Renata. Of course, there had to be some exaggeration going on. Mothers and daughters don’t get along this well. Do they? Christy wasn’t sure. She could barely remember what it was like to have a mom.

  When it was Renata’s turn, she walked to the front of the room, opened Christy’s letter, and spoke:

  DEAR Stringbean,

  Unlike your friends and their parents, you and I are just beginning to form a relationship. It is my greatest wish that someday, you will come to think of me as your mother. While I would never expect to take the place of your cherished grandma, perhaps there is room in your heart to love me in a different but special way. As I once told you, when I was a child, my mother died. So I understand that you will always miss Maria. When your grandmother asked me with her last breath to raise you, it felt like God was offering me a chance to give something back for all the wonderful blessings that had been bestowed on me. I only hope I am worthy of standing in the place of the only mother you ever really knew, Maria Ruiz. Have I told you how extraordinary I think you are? I think you’re a wonder. You are a well-mannered, smart, and loving girl. Maria did a beautiful job of raising you. I will do my best to continue to bring you up in the way Maria would have wanted. While I cannot give you back the woman you loved most in the world, I can give you the world. That’s what I intend to do.

  All my love,

  Christy

  The classroom erupted in applause when Renata finished reading. It wasn’t that Christy’s letter was so heartwarming; the class clapped after each person completed her recitation. Christy stood and walked to the front of the room as Renata took her seat. She opened the sealed envelope and pulled out her child’s letter. She read what Renata wrote and then, slowly, folded the letter and put it back in the envelope.

  “I’m sorry, but this letter is just a bit too personal for me to read out loud. You’ll have to excuse me. I’m overwhelmed.” Christy raced out of the classroom, intent on making it to the car before her emotions betrayed her. Steven held the door as Christy dove headfirst into the backseat. She opened the letter again just to make sure she’d read it right:

  DEAR CHRISTY HAYES,

  YOU ARE A RUDE, MEAN, SELFISH BICH.

  I HATE YOU.

  LOVE,

  STRINGBEAN E. RUIZ

  It’s Always Something

  The descent from Refuge du Gouter was a nightmare,” Michael said.

  “How come?” Christy asked. She was in her bedroom, sitting at her desk, wishing Michael weren’t so far away.

  “There was serious rockfall. Big chunks were flying everywhere. They were sharp and coming down fast.”

  “Was anyone hurt?”

  “A woman in the party below ours was cut pretty badly. It was a good thing Galit was there. She was trained as a medic in the Israeli army.”

  “How’s it going with her?” Christy said.

  “Pretty good. We’ve gotten most of the background interviews done. She seems like a good reporter, but I wouldn’t want to be her boyfriend. What a ballbuster.”

  “You’re not too tired for interviews after climbing?”

  “We did most of it on the flight over. She’s my Skip Heller, only I have to come up with more stories, enough to fill a whole book.”

  “I’m not worried. When have you ever been at a loss for words?”

  “I miss you. You should have come.”

  “I know. I wish I had. Remember that mother-daughter assembly I told you about?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, it was a disaster.”

  “Beegee, wait, hold on. Someone’s knocking.” Michael left the phone for a moment. “I’m back. Sorry. I’m with our Italian magazine partner. He’s here. We’re having dinner. What were you saying?”

  Christy’s call-waiting beeped in.

  “Nothing. It’s not important. Go enjoy your meal. I’ll see you Friday.”

  The phone rang immediately. It was Lisa Drapkin, Katherine’s secretary. When Christy started Baby G, Lisa worked for her. After Katherine was named COO, she needed someone with Lisa’s experience, so Christy graciously gave her up and hired Randi.

  “Hey, Lisa, what’s up?” Christy said, trying to sound more upbeat than she felt.

  “Christy, I’m concerned about something. It’s confidential. It may be nothing, but I think you should know.”

  “What?”

  “Everyone’s talking. They think Katherine’s having an affair with Rick Slotnik.”

  “Rick?”

  “Yeah. He’s always in her office. Always. They’ve been spotted getting out of the same cab in the morning. Mindy Swearingen saw them having dinner at Chanterelle and said they were sitting real close and being all touchy-feely.”

  “I can’t believe it. She would have told me. She tells me everything.”

  “You’d think. But there’s something going on. And people are pissed because he reports to her. Pat Hughes in accounting says that Rick makes more than anyone on Katherine’s staff, including Fern and Stacy, and they’re the general counsel and head of operations. Their jobs are way bigger. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Pat shouldn’t be gossiping about Rick’s salary.”

  “Everyone’s gossiping about Katherine and Rick. I think you should talk to her. If there’s something going on, you have to get involved. Fern and Stacy are really upset about how much he’s making. The whole thing is sordid, and you’re the only one who can help.”

  Christy sighed. “Well, if it’s
true, it can’t continue. But I don’t think it is. Katherine always tells me about the men in her life. I know all the skeletons in her closet.”

  “Christy, hello! She’d never tell you if she was sleeping with a direct report. You may be her friend, but you’re also her boss. You gotta talk to her.”

  “Fine. I’ll talk to her. But you’ll see. There’s a reasonable explanation. I’m sure of it.”

  Christy felt a terrible aching in her heart as she hung up. What was happening to her company? Bad press. False rumors. Falling stock prices. Bosses sleeping with employees. It was starting to feel like too much. There was a tentative knock at the door. Renata stuck her head in. “Can I come in?”

  “What is it?”

  The girl came over to the writing desk where Christy had been on the phone. “You have a nice bedroom. It’s a pretty color.” Since it was gray, Christy waited for what she really had to say. “Maybe I’ll do my room this color when we redo it,” she said, looking around.

  “If you want.” Christy rubbed her temples. “Renata, this is a bad time for me.”

  Renata looked at Christy with a pained expression. “I’m sorry I wrote that letter. It was mean of me,” she blurted.

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Your letter was real nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted me here,” Renata said.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know. You don’t spend time with me.”

  “I know. I wish I could be with you more. But I have my job and Michael. It’s tough to give everyone I love enough time.”

  “Do you love me?”