chapter 46

Julia was leaving for the airport and was frantic because the Tel Aviv car service buzzed from downstairs, five minutes early. And she needed those five minutes desperately. Aside from shoving her clothes haphazardly into a suitcase, knowing full well they’d look like accordions when she later unpacked, Julia threw shoes, a toothbrush, and jacket into her bag. But before running downstairs to the car, she grabbed a pristine Michael Kors hanging bag from the closet.

“Off to Laguardia?” the driver asked, opening the door for her.

“Yes, but I have one stop on the way.”

Julia had just one sole leftover from her whirlwind year running with the rich. In her ascent to party-picture princess, she’d won the hearts and threads of many of the city’s top designers, who offered her access to their PR closet, since she was getting snapped so often. And Julia happily borrowed the goods; after all, she couldn’t afford them.

So into the office of Michael Kors she walked to return the last of the lent gowns. She thanked the press assistant profusely.

“Anytime, Julia, you know that.”

“Oh thank you. I don’t think I’ll be back, though. I’m going a way for a week and then I’ll be . . . laying low, so to speak.”

“Well, we’re here if you need anything,” she said, knowing what Julia was talking about. Everyone knew. But she liked Julia, everyone who knew her did. “You were always so nice,” she added. “So many of those girls, they come in, demand we messenger and pick up stuff, and it always looks like shit after. They treat this stuff like garbage.”

“That’s awful,” Julia said. “I can’t believe people behave that way.”

“Anyway, good luck with everything—”

“You too, take care.”

As Julia exited and walked toward the elevators, she turned the corner and came smack face-to-face with Lell, who was walking out of a fitting room. Julia was totally surprised, and she could tell Lell was also, and she was unsure what to do. Would Lell make a scene? Should she acknowledge her? What to say to her former boss–slash–friend turned foe? There should be a textbook for this.

“Hey,” said Julia quietly, giving a weird slight wave, which was more like a flick of the wrist. She was nervous.

Lell’s face didn’t even register that she had seen Julia.

Okay, so she’s ignoring me, thought Julia.

Just then, the elevator rang and the doors opened. Julia looked at Lell, who looked at her. Neither made a move. Finally, Julia gulped, and walked into the elevator, just as Lell did.

In the elevator, they stood like stone statues, erect, cold, and mute for two floors. Never have two people paid more attention to the numbers on the wall as they made their descent. Julia was very conscious that they were going down, down, down, as if to hades.

Finally, Lell spoke. “Just so you know, Julia,” she hissed her name as if it were Jezebel. “You really shouldn’t be here borrowing clothes. I introduced you to these people and you’re out of Pelham’s and out of our lives.”

“I was returning things. Trust me, I don’t plan on coming back,” Julia answered.

“I sure hope not. ’Cause you’re history in this town. You’re over. You are a pathetic social-climbing loser, and trust me, my family and I are fully networked in this town. And as long as I live, I will personally see to it that you are nothing here. That you accomplish nothing, that you have access nowhere, and that you see nobody. Of any interest, that is. You’re nothing. You’re a total zero.”

Julia looked at her. At first her face flushed with anger and embarrassment, but then something inside her snapped, and she quickly changed. What a sad case. The girl she once admired for her style and class now seemed graceless and crass. And childish.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, Lell, but I’m not afraid of you. This is New York City. And you can’t ‘ruin’ me, or anyone else. And while you’re hurling empty threats my way, I have one for you.” Julia moved in closer to Lell, who backed up nervously. “Your precious Daddy put his hand on my thigh and tried to stick his tongue down my throat. You don’t see me filing lawsuits or calling Page Six or telling the gossips, as you did. The news you circulated was pure lies. And mine’s the truth. So you make one more damning move, and I’ll make my own.”

The doors opened and Julia walked out, leaving Lell astonished in her wake. Lell wasn’t surprised about her father, and she knew from that moment on, she’d better zip it or she could get slammed with a suit that would cost the family millions. Or worse, have their good name dragged through the mud.

 

Julia checked her bags to Toronto and walked through the long airport hallway. She was off to Doug and Lewis’s wedding and would be spending a full week doing prep work with Doug, plus a full spa day and another on a shopping spree. He said she would have been a bridesmaid, but they weren’t having attendants at the small, outdoor wedding. Instead, he had sent her a Pablo Neruda poem that they wanted her to read at the ceremony. She had a bit of time to kill before her flight and realized she hadn’t even looked over the words she was meant to read. She took out her organizer, pulled out the small piece of paper, opened it, and took a deep breath as she read the second stanza, which particularly moved her:

But this, in which there is no I or you.

So intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand.

So intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

Julia closed her eyes. The last weeks had been exhausting and they were finally over. As she held the poem in her hand, she thought about her own next chapter and what the new moons ahead would bring. Would she ever be this intimate? Would love come and find her ever again?

“Julia?”

A familiar voice was coming from above, as Julia looked up. Oscar Curtis was standing there.

“Oscar, hi! How are you?”

“Fine, fine, where are you going? Did they run you out of town?”

Julia looked at him carefully. Was he being a jerk or was he just blunt? “Um . . .”

“Sorry, that came out wrong. I just meant, I heard what happened. Don’t worry about those girls, they’re all lame.”

“Yeah, I know.”

There was an awkward silence.

“So, where are you going?”

“I’m going to Toronto for a wedding.”

“Oh.”

Oscar looked at Julia questioningly. She was always a little disconcerted when he did that.

“Yeah, I love weddings. I mean, people bash them so much and bitch about having to go, but I can’t get enough,” said Julia.

“I guess it depends what kind it is. Showcase or the real deal,” he gave her a knowing look.

“Exactly. This’ll luckily be the real thing. True love. Very Princess Bride. Although,” she smiled. “It’s actually two princes.”

“Oh yeah? How long will you be up in Toronto?”

“Just a week. And you?”

“I’m just coming home from a conference in San Jose. It was a few long ugly days. San Jose’s a bummer town. I was slaving the whole time.”

“I see. Well at least you have work. I’m jobless at the moment.”

“What do you think you’ll do next?”

“I’m not sure. My friend Douglas—one of the grooms—and I have talked about starting a jewelry company.”

“Oh yeah? I bet you would be a huge success.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. Your style. Your whole . . . way. People would love to buy a little piece of that.”

“That’s so sweet,” Julia said, touched.

“It’s not sweet,” he corrected with a smile. “It’s fact. In fact, I’d bet on it.”

“Oh yeah? Do I smell an investor?”

“Maybe,” he teased. The loudspeaker announced the boarding call for Toronto. Oscar stood up. “I guess that’s you,” he said.

Julia was bummed to say goodbye, since his was the first calming face she’d seen in a while. After ripping on “nice” in her own head, Mr. Nice was suddenly a real comfort to behold.

Oscar, meanwhile, ever nervous in her midst, after a lonely week of misery, decided to combat another dark day of working by just being balls out.

“Julia,” he said, almost regretting it as soon as the beautiful word came out.

“Yes,” she answered, warmed by the sound of her name coming from his ever-nervous lips.

“Have dinner with me next week.”

“I’d love that,” she said, looking up at him with a smile that melted away all his fears.

“Okay then, that’ll be great. I’ll call you. Uh, bon voyage.”

He waved awkwardly and turned to leave. Julia watched him shuffle away and suddenly felt a pang. For Oscar. All the supposed excitement and electricity with Will left her miserable and wounded. And here was the guy who all along was always kind and soothing, a calm, healing fire instead of a sparking explosion.

“Oscar?” she yelled after him.

He stopped and turned around. “Yeah?”

“Any desire to come to Canada for a few days?”