Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
brUNO
The east terrace is a stone expanse on the side of the hotel crowded with balloons and wedding guests and umbrellas and buckets of white flowers everywhere.
It’s just breakfast, people.
Kelsey’s dress moves in the breeze as we wait in line in front of the espresso station. Now and then she goes off to say hello to someone while I hold our place. I put in our orders and bring our drinks to the table, something sweet and ridiculous for Kelsey; a simple cappuccino for me.
“All it needs is a maraschino cherry,” I say, setting it down in front of her.
“If only.”
The uncle I wanted to pummel last night has found a seat on the other side of the patio. Good.
It’s here I notice the text Adrian sent some forty minutes ago.
It’s unlike me to miss a text like that, but apparently I was lying in bed watching Kelsey sleep at the time when it came.
Like a fucking poet or something. And I’ve been focused on squiring her around ever since.
The zipper. Her beverage. These last moments.
It really is for the best that there’s a hard stop.
I pull up the text.
It’s Adrian.
Great news! Weather delay has pushed the Spotlight shoot out by several days. Crew won’t be leaving for Hungary until Thursday. So no scheduling conflict anymore. We’ll expect you whenever you can get here. Russell and I are looking forward to it.
I read it twice, and a dark pit settles deep in my stomach.
They’ve extended shooting?
Presents are being opened. Crystal, silver, dishware in a color called “fig.”
All the while my mind is racing. I need an excuse that takes me through Thursday.
Something that will satisfy the family trust contract language.
Kelsey’s gift is opened. It’s a salad bowl—ceramic, painted with lemons and green leaves winding around the rim.
Kelsey is explaining why she chose lemons, talking too fast the way she does when she’s nervous.
“Really lovely,” her mom adds, already looking at the next gift in a way that makes me want to break a great deal of crystal stemware.
Kelsey keeps smiling. It’s good I didn’t tell her this morning.
It comes to me that I’m going to need her to help out some more with the alibi.
Is that possible? I think through everything she’s said.
Her Broadway show is on hiatus for the next week or two, but she did have something coming up…
A friend’s birthday dinner, I think. She wouldn’t want to miss that. But if I make it worth her while...
“Bruno!” Kelsey shakes my arm. “They’re opening your gift!”
Tyler rips off the paper and his eyes go wide. Even Danielle looks surprised. “Bruno, this is—”
“Congratulations,” I say.
Tyler holds it up for everybody to see. “It’s a half-hull model of the Vigilant, the 1893 America’s Cup defender, mounted on mahogany.”
One of his groomsmen stands over it. “Some museum-quality shit right here.”
Danielle beams. “This is incredible!”
“Your sister told me how fond you are of boats,” I say. Which is true but has nothing to do with the present. Sadie would’ve stalked their socials.
People marvel over the gift.
Under the table, Kelsey squeezes my hand.
I look down at her fingers wrapped around mine, bright nails against my skin.
It has to be something that can’t be rescheduled.
And then it comes to me: A one-year-anniversary trip with my girlfriend. On the yacht. I could have Sadie work out an itinerary that would send us up the coast for a very specific reason. A reservation that’s impossible to get. I have to move fast to pull it together.
I excuse myself to make the call.
“They’ve extended shooting,” I say to Sadie.
“How long?”
“Four more days.”
She exhales audibly. “After you suffered through an entire weekend at a stranger’s wedding!”
“Look, I’ve got an idea. I told Russell that Kelsey and I have been together for a year.
You’re going to make a reservation somewhere up the coast that’s impossible to get into.
Make it somewhere that takes two days to get there.
Somewhere that Kelsey would’ve heard about or read about, and she’s fixated on going. ”
I can hear Sadie typing on the other end. “You’re lucky this woman is on board for more of this fake relationship...”
I look over at her, standing, now. Gesticulating. Kinetic. She’s telling some old family story, hair glossy in the morning light. No, she won’t want to miss her friend’s birthday—that sort of thing is important to her.
So what might be more important?
I may not know people, but watchmaking has taught me to pay attention to the internal movement—the thing that animates everything. She showed me hers.
And I’m thinking about that dance outreach program of hers.
Having to take subways and buses to get to these kids whose arts programs have been cut.
She cared about that a great deal. I could buy the program a van and donate something.
It would need to be a good number. More than good—a thrilling number.
I work through the things she said about her apartment, her life.
Everybody has a number, and everybody has a thrilling number.
Sadie’s back. “Score! I’ve got you in at the Bailey Cliffside, a historic lighthouse dining room. Very exclusive. They’re typically only booked Wednesday through Sunday, but I did some horse trading to get it open on Tuesday. It’ll cost you.”
“That’s fine.”
Sadie mumbles, working out the details. “Updating the helicopter manifest to include Ms. Winters. I’ll brief Captain Bane on the revised northbound itinerary and have him coordinate a private mooring near the property. Anything else you want locked down?”
“We’ll need a way for them to park the van.” I give her Kelsey’s cross streets. Tap tap tap. Sadie locates contract parking right away. “One left. I’m grabbing it.”
We talk food. I’m thinking back over the things Kelsey went for. Sadie will coordinate with the chef.
I reply to Adrian’s text:
Still can’t make it. I’ve prepared a special anniversary-week cruise up the coast with Kelsey. I’ve set up an elaborate onboard celebration. I’ve pulled out all the stops. And then we have reservations up the coast later in the week. You’ll film without me.
Take that, I think.
I hit send.
I pocket my phone and walk back to the table. The presents are winding down. Someone is passing around a cheese plate. Kelsey is showing Granny Ernie something on her phone. She gives me this easy, uncomplicated smile.
Of course she’ll be happy about this opportunity.
I pull her over to the croissant station. “I have a proposition.”
She blinks. “A proposition?”
“My brothers’ documentary shoot got extended. My alibi needs to be extended. I’m thinking about an anniversary cruise—”
“Bruno, I’d love to help you, but I have to be in the city for Francine’s birthday party.”
“What if I made it worth your while? In exchange for helping me out, I’ll donate a van to your dance outreach program as well as a $300,000 operating fund.”
Kelsey straightens. “Three hundred thousand? And a van?”
“You did say the program involved a lot of public transportation.”
“All for our dance outreach program?”
“Yes.” I smile. “Sadie has already grabbed a parking spot for the van just two blocks from your home.”
She looks confused. “Okay. Wow...”
“You had mentioned your intersection.”
“No, it’s just that...so this is already happening?”
“We had to button it down quickly.”
Her lips form into a plump little frown. “And you already let your brother know and all that? Like this is what you’re going with? An anniversary cruise?”
I lean in. “And I think you’re going to be pleasantly surprised by the menu.”
“So it’s all set in stone.”
“Yes.”
Her pretty brows draw together. What’s going on? She seemed pleased enough with the number. “I thought you’d be happy.”
She sets down her coffee. “It’s just that...you just assumed I’d say yes?”
“It was my intention to make it worth your while.”
“Meaning you’ve worked out the offer that makes it so I can’t say no. Like an aggressive business takeover.”
“I offered something that I thought you’d want—”
“You didn’t even ask. You worked out the number that makes it so I can’t say no, and you went ahead and made the plan.”
“I thought it would seem like a win-win.”
“I feel like you took all the things I told you about my life and made them into a formula...as though I’m just like whoever you had to kick out of our suite in order to get it for the weekend.”
I lower my voice. “That’s not how I see you.”
“I think it is. You used your Clockwork Orange watchmaker brain to figure out the offer that I can’t refuse, and you somehow don’t see anything wrong with it.
I know you’re a billionaire who lives on a yacht like Bluebeard Svengali or whatever, but people don’t like being bought and sold like commodities. ”
“In no way do I see you as a commodity.”
“Yeah, right, you don’t. It’s more like you see me as one of your stupid fancy watches, and you can just wind me up and adjust my gears.”
“I was not winding you up, more like I was taking into account what moves you internally.”
“Oh my God, so you are looking at me like a watch!”
In this small instance, but that’s an opinion I should keep to myself.
Russell’s words come back to me. The more time you spend on this yacht, the shittier you’re going to get at peopling, and someday that’s going to bite you in the ass.
Kelsey’s shaking her head hotly. “I’m just a gear in one of your stupid fancy watches, huh? Well, guess what? I’m a bent gear and I’m going to bend myself into a weird shape and also bring sand with me and you can put that into your watch.”
“Can we just please forget about the watch comparison—”
“And the money’s probably nothing to you. You probably have some money earmarked for charitable giving for tax purposes somewhere else, and now the Boys and Girls Club or the Ferret Rescue Brigade won’t get it anymore. It’s just nothing to you.”
“Is this a no?”
“Don’t insult me by acting like I have a choice.
Obviously, you knew I’d say yes or you wouldn’t have confidently made plans that involve me without consulting me.
So yes, I’ll smile for the camera and eat your food, but if you think there’s any sexytimes included in this package, you are so sadly mistaken. ”
“All I require is that you appear in a few photos and enjoy a nice yacht ride. That’s all I require.”
“Fine.”
I truly do not understand why she’s so angry. Would she be less angry if I’d asked her beforehand? And what do I care? It’s good that she’s angry. I don’t do entanglements—no matter what happened last night.
“I hope your yacht is big.”
“The yacht is 164 feet.”
She narrows her eyes. “Is that big?”
“It is.”
“Good. Plenty of room to steer clear.” She huffs out a breath. “I should let my friend know that I won’t see her on her birthday. And pack.”
“Sadie’s got the staff packing up the room.”
“Of course. Wow. You really were confident of your calculations about me. Do I even get to say goodbye?”
“Kelsey.”
“What? It seems like a legit question considering you’ve conscripted me onto your ship like I’m an impoverished Oliver Twist character.”
“You’re no conscript.”
“Employee, then.”
“Say goodbye. Take your time. Staff will load our luggage in the helicopter.”
She smooths her dress, puts on a bright smile, and starts her round of goodbyes. I join in, doing the minimum.
She’s hurt for whatever reason, but I have to think she’ll be grateful when she has time to think about the money. And yes, I suppose in a way she is my employee, now.
Best that those lines are clear. Especially that they’re clear to me. I will not be allowing them to become unclear again; that much is certain.
Things feel back under control again, and I will myself to find this comforting.
I finish my coffee and go to meet the helicopter.