This is going to be OK. More than OK. What started as a Hail Mary pass might actually turn out to be the Gazette’s saving grace—thanks to the mysterious allure of one Pearl LeFarge.
I pace in front of the mirror, practicing my big pitch. We’ve got an invite for a private lunch with Walter and Suki on their yacht today, and I need to knock this one out of the park. I’m no stranger to a business pitch, although, let’s face it—usually I’m the one being asked for money, not the other way around.
I take a deep breath and go over my notes again, trying to ignore the fact that a hundred-plus people are relying on me to save their jobs with this one casual lunch-slash-presentation.
“Hey.” Natalie appears in the bathroom doorway in a fluffy white bathrobe. “Everything OK in here?”
“Yup,” I say automatically. “I’m fine.”
Then I realize I don’t need to lie, not to her. It’s part of what I like so much about us—the fact that it’s OK not to have it one hundred percent together in front of her every single second. The idea that it’s OK to let her help. “Well, to tell the truth, I’m pretty nervous for today.”
Natalie smiles, coming to stand behind me in front of the mirror and wrapping her arms around my waist. “You’ve got this,” she promises, pressing her lips against my bare shoulder. “Walter was totally taken by you last night. You’re a brilliant businessman, remember?”
“Very funny.” I duck my head to drop a toothpaste flavored kiss on her mouth. “What I could really use is an early copy of Pearl’s column. See if the stars signal success today, or if I should just give up now.”
I’m joking, mostly, but Natalie doesn’t laugh.
“Justin . . .” she begins, pulling back and perching on the edge of the bathtub. “You don’t really believe that stuff, do you? Horoscopes, it all being written in the stars?”
“No,” I laugh. “Well, only a little . . .”
It’s not like I’m about to gamble my entire fortune away just because some newspaper psychic predicted luck might be in my corner. “But her columns have really worked for me lately,” I say, turning back to button my shirt. “Pearl was the one who steered me to give us a chance, and to follow my instincts about the paper.” I shrug. “It’s nice to feel like somebody’s looking out for me. Like I’ve got a kind of guide.”
Natalie nods, picking at her cuticles. “No, I know,” she says softly. “And somebody is looking out for you. It’s just—” She breaks off.
I look over. “What?”
Natalie looks at me for another moment, a look on her face like she’s trying to solve an impossible riddle. Then she shakes her head. “Nothing,” she says finally, standing up and wrapping her arms around me, popping up on her bare tiptoes to nip at my bottom lip. “You’re going to be amazing.”
It’s a beautiful day to be out on the water, sunny with just the tiniest bite in the air. Natalie looks beautiful in dark jeans and a striped cotton sweater, her dark hair back in a braid and tied with a vintage scarf. “You made it!” Suki crows as we climb aboard, throwing her arms around Natalie like they’re old friends and leading her over to the mimosa bar set up on the starboard side of the boat’s upper deck.
“Glad you could join us,” Walter tells me, holding a hand out to shake. He’s got a distinct Colonel Sanders vibe going this afternoon, in a white suit and a captain’s hat he tells me once belonged to JFK. “Got it at auction,” he tells me. “I love a bit of historical oddity, don’t you?”
“Who doesn’t?” I ask, even as I remember the display of vintage weapons that held court over our breakfast this morning, guns and swords mounted on all four walls of the breakfast nook. “Quite the, ah, impressive collection you’ve put together here.”
He leads me over to a sitting area on the deck with a spread of food set out. A deckhand brings us a pair of Manhattans. “Thanks,” I say, even though I have zero intention of drinking today. I need to stay razor sharp to get Walter on my side, and something tells me that for all the cozy grandfather act, he’s not the teddy bear he seems.
Sure enough, Walter sits back and looks at me shrewdly. “I’m not going to lie to you,” he says, not bothering with a preamble. “Your father is a sonofabitch.”
I laugh out loud, I can’t help it. “You won’t get any argument from me there,” I tell him, with a rueful grin. “We’ve got different priorities when it comes to the family business, that’s for sure. And I’d like to make some changes, if I can.” I reach down into my messenger bag, pull out my paperwork. “The Gazette’s financials are in order,” I assure him. “If you look at the prospectus I’ve prepared, you’ll see we’ll be breaking even by the end of the quarter. I’ve already managed to cut costs without requiring layoffs. The paper can survive—and even thrive one day soon, under the right stewardship. We just need to get over the hump.”
Walter pulls out a pair of reading glasses and scans the paperwork. “I’ll have my financial advisors take a look,” he says after a moment, “but I don’t have to tell you my wife has already got her heart set on this one. That Pearl character sure makes an impression, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, sir,” I agree, smiling.
He nods. “If my guy likes what he sees, we may have a deal.”
Holy crap!
“Really?” I clear my throat, suddenly choking up. A weight lifts from my shoulders, knowing that all the staff jobs are safe, and more than that, the paper itself. “That’s great news, sir. I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear it.”
Suki’s laughter rings out from the other side of the deck, her head tipped close to Natalie’s in a way that makes me wonder what kind of secrets they’re sharing. Walter smiles indulgently. “Twenty years married and that laugh is still my favorite sound,” he confides. “Lord knows I’ve spent a lot of money to hear it over the years. But it’s always worth it.” He takes a sip of his Manhattan, gazing fondly at his wife. “People said I was crazy, getting hitched to a girl barely half my age. They said she was a gold-digger, that she’d put me through the ringer and be gone in a year, but look at us now. Still going strong.”
“Twenty years,” I agree, impressed.
“And they’ve certainly been interesting ones,” Walter chuckles. “She’s got her quirks, and she’d be the first to tell you that I’ve got mine, too. But if you find the right person, she’ll make your life worth living.”
I know he’s probably just feeling sentimental on account of his anniversary, but I can’t help but look across the deck toward Natalie, a glass of champagne in one hand and the sun catching a trace of gold in her hair. She’s spectacular. I’ve never met anyone like her before.
And I can’t help but wonder if maybe she’s . . . the one.
I know, all that fate and soulmate crap never rang true to me in the past, but something about Natalie and me just clicks. I love waking up with her in the mornings and hanging out on the weekends, reading the Sunday papers and drinking coffee, talking about everything and nothing all at once.
She’s a true partner, and I’ve never had someone like that in my corner before. Someone who’s got my back, who I can depend on. Not because she cares about my wealth or connections, but because she believes in me. Just like I believe in her, too. Her stubbornness, her ambition, the way she gets so passionate about the things she cares about.
Not to mention how damn sexy she looks in the process.
Natalie sees me watching her and strolls over to join us. “Don’t let me interrupt,” she says, “but I can’t resist a good sandwich spread.”
“That’s my kind of woman.” Walter chortles. “Please, go ahead.”
She fills a plate. “So, has Justin won you over with his wit, charm, and irresistible financial projections?” she asks with a smile.
“He’s certainly working on it,” he replies, looking amused.
“Well, I don’t need to tell you that the whole staff of the Gazette is on board and behind him,” she continues sweetly. “We’re highly motivated to keep the printing presses running.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“And I know I don’t need to mention the Gazette’s illustrious legacy,” she adds. “Or the importance of a vibrant newspaper market in today’s climate.”
“And yet here you are, doing it regardless.”
“Am I? Whoops.” Natalie grins. “I’ll just go take my Italian sub over here and leave you two to it.”
She saunters off, but not before giving me a wink. You’ve got this, she mouths.
And just like that, I believe her.
Back on dry land, we get ready for the big gala event up in our suite.
“You really think we’re safe?” Natalie asks, looking hopeful.
“I think we’ve got a good shot,” I say. “But who knows? Walter is hard to read.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” Natalie grins. “Our fearless leader.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not? You’re CEO, aren’t you?” she asks. “The buck stops with you.”
I exhale. “I always thought of my dad as the guy in charge,” I admit. “I know I’m being groomed to take over one day, but I never wanted it. I always thought I’d have to be like him to lead.”
“Cold, unfeeling, and with a bad taste in ties?”
I smile, pulling her into my arms. “Exactly.”
“But that’s crazy,” she tells me, smiling up at me. “You’re nothing like your father. You couldn’t be him if you tried. You do things your own way,” she continues. “You care.”
“Yes,” I tell her honestly, leaning closer for a kiss. “I do.”
About her. About us. I kiss her until my phone starts buzzing on the nightstand. I reluctantly pull away. “That could be the finance guys . . .”
“Take it!” she orders, looking excited. “Get your ducks in a row and the rubber ready for the road.”
I laugh. “OK. See you down there?”
“I’ll be the one in the sexy dress,” she says with a shimmy, before grabbing her purse and heading for the door. “And all the hors d’oeuvres.”
“Hey, Derek,” I answer, but his voice is static and muffled. I check my bars. “Hang on,” I tell him, “let me find a good reception and call you back.”
I grab my laptop and head downstairs. The party is just getting started, but I find a spot on the back veranda with better reception. I feel more relaxed than I have since I took over the paper—and not just because of the vacation sex. For the first time in a long time, it feels like I’m actually going to be able to make this all happen. I’m going to prove to my dad I know what I’m doing, and save the newspaper, too.
“Oh, yoo-hoo.”
I turn. Pearl LeFarge is sitting on a velvet settee in the corner, dramatically pressing a cloth to her forehead.
“Pearl, how are you?”
“Oh, you know, taking some downtime before I tread the boards again.”
I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I realize all of a sudden she’s dropped her accent completely. Is Madame LeFarge actually from . . . the Bronx?
“Are you enjoying the weekend?” I ask, getting a sneaking suspicion that something’s going on. “You and Suki seemed to hit it off.”
“Oh yes, darling girl,” she replies. “Don’t worry, I won’t let Natalie down, I promise—after all, dahling, I’m a professional—but I won’t lie to you. Faking it for a whole weekend is different than a night on stage.”
I pause. “Faking it?”
“You know, this whole astrologer act,” Pearl says. “I think I’m holding up pretty good, although I keep mixing up my Geminis and my Pisces. Who knew there was so much to this star-reading thing?”
Who knew? I stare at her in disbelief. Well, she should. If she was actually Pearl LeFarge, famed astrologer.
“Still, you’re never too old to learn,” Pearl continues. “And of course poor Natalie couldn’t very well pretend to be Pearl herself, I mean, the girl has been cranking out those columns, but you need someone with real aplomb to sell this act. We haven’t been properly introduced, have we? Lucinda Donofrio,” she says, sticking out a bejeweled hand. “Natalie’s downstairs neighbor. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I say automatically, though my mind is racing. Lucinda? Neighbor?
What the fuck is going on?
Lucinda heaves herself up off the sofa, reaching for her martini one more time. “Well, I’ve got to rehearse for tonight, dahling,” she says. “I’ll see you at the party!” She leaves in a swish of fabric, a cloud of patchouli and gin trailing behind her.
I watch her go for a moment before my knees turn to water and I sink down onto the couch.
Natalie’s been the one writing the columns?
Natalie’s the one whose guidance I’ve been relying on all this time?
She’s been lying to me. All along.