6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
The TV studio was a hive of activity.
We were met in the parking lot before Mona could so much as cut the engine, an attaché for the network opening the passenger side door and shading the seat with an umbrella despite the clear sky.
“Mrs. Avery, welcome to the studio,” she said, gesturing for my princess to follow her.
“Hair and makeup are ready for you. This is your husband?”
I had to admire the woman. She managed to make that sound almost natural. Mona and I shared one last look, then climbed out of the BMW and followed. I held Yukiko’s hand the whole way in, feeling the tension in the way she squeezed.
The Morning Harbor set was smaller than I expected.
I always knew that television was a high-pressure industry, but the sheer number of things going on at any one moment felt almost dizzying.
Interns and gofers ferried everything from coffee to camera equipment around the building, while a pair of distractingly attractive makeup artists were busy seeing to the hosts.
No sooner had we entered the building than one crewmember peeled away from the pack and made her way over.
She slid off her headphones and gave Yukiko a quick handshake, announcing her name so quickly that I couldn’t catch it.
It was the first time—but not the last—that I’d realize most of Morning Harbor’s crew spoke the same way they acted; at about one and a half times normal speed.
“We’ve got you in the green room until we’re ready,” the woman said, walking backwards through the set as easily as we walked forwards. “Hair and makeup will come to you. We’ll also do a quick meet-and-greet with the hosts so you can get familiar with them before the interview starts.”
Yukiko squeezed my hand. “Good.”
“We’re slotting you into the eight-forty block, right after the weather report and right before the cooking segment.
You should have about fifty minutes before you’re due to go on.
” She glanced at me and Mona for a moment before refocusing on Kiki.
“There’s water, coffee and snacks. I highly suggest you do eat something—a lot of our guests find they can get lightheaded under the stage lights, especially if they’re pregnant.
” She said this part as briskly as she said everything else. “Questions?”
Mona answered before Yukiko could. “We signed off on the final question list last night,” she said. “There’s been no changes?”
The crew member’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a touch of uncertainty in her eyes. “I’ll double-check with the producers and let you know.”
Mona nodded. “Please see that you do.”
We’re doing you the favor by agreeing to this interview, her tone said.
We followed the crew member into the backstage area. At some point she turned back around, either because she didn’t know this space as well as the set or she was unnerved by Mona’s gaze. Probably both.
The green room turned out to be a small, windowless space that reminded me of nothing so much as the waiting room in a cheap mechanic’s shop.
A sagging leather couch dominated the space, with a coffee table piled with pastries and individually wrapped fruit bars.
A Keurig on a nearby table provided the brew, and there was one of those mini-fridges filled with name-brand bottles of water.
Mona grabbed one as we sat down, handing it to Yukiko. “Drink.”
She did.
The other side of the room was mostly bare wall, with one exception.
A massive wall-mounted TV broadcast a live feed of the show, the sound turned almost all the way down.
On screen, the show’s hosts—Rachel Bayer and Colin Holloway—were laughing at tricks a woman was doing with a very tiny, very annoying-looking dog.
“Looks like the bar’s been set pretty low today,” I rumbled. “You’ll be a nice change of pace.”
Yukiko snickered at that, but the worried look didn’t fade from her face. “What was that about the questions, Mona?”
Mona didn’t hesitate. “I wouldn’t put it past the producers to sneak some kind of last minute gotcha question into your interview. If they did, I wanted to head it off at the pass—or at least find out what it is beforehand so you can pre-prep a clever answer.”
“Yukiko doesn’t need any prep work,” I insisted. “You’re going to be great, princess.”
She nodded, then picked up a Danish. “Do me a favor?”
I took a seat next to Yukiko on the couch. “What do you need?”
She smiled. “Don’t tell Maria how badly I pigged out after her breakfast. She’ll be offended if she thinks she didn’t give me a decent meal.” She took a big bite out of the Danish. “But I have been ravenous lately. These two, I swear, they eat enough for quadruplets.”
I couldn’t help but grin at that. “They’ve got their Daddy’s appetite,” I said. “Let’s hope they’ve got their Mom’s good looks.”
Yukiko took another bite then made a fishing gesture with both hands. “Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You know exactly how freaking hot you are…”
“Mrs. Avery?”
We glanced up. The makeup artist had just arrived.
“I’m Caroline,” she said, dragging a case on wheels filled with supplies behind her. “I’m going to get you ready for the cameras, Mrs. Avery.” She glanced at me. “Could you move so I can get in beside her?”
“Sure.” As I rose, I noticed something surprising—this woman was even taller than me.
Or maybe it was just the heels. They were high like the stilettos Yukiko liked, but of a style that my princess would never have worn—chunky and so shiny they shone, like the expensive version of something you would’ve bought at a Hot Topic.
There was a bit of that style in the way she dressed, too, though her outfit was simple and practical enough.
She settled in beside Yukiko with a strange, willowy grace, dragging her case beside her.
“Hi,” she said, drawing the word out with a smile.
About a half-dozen crystals of various sizes hung around her neck on little silver chains.
“Don’t worry about a thing, Mrs. Avery. I’m going to make you look like you didn’t start this morning on four hours of sleep. ”
Yukiko blinked. “More like three hours,” she said.
Caroline smiled. “I figured. We’ll take care of it.” She was already taking brushes and makeup swaths from her case. “Are you a winter or a summer? Never mind, you’re a winter. I can tell from your veins.”
Her veins?
Mona and I shared a look. She shrugged. Just let her work, that shrug said.
And work she did.
What unfolded over the next few minutes was a very tiny miracle.
I watched my wife—who a few minutes ago had been gripping my hand tight enough to bruise while looking around the Morning Harbor set like she’d just stepped into a war zone—slowly unspool in this woman’s hands. Relaxing back to normalcy.
It wasn’t anything specific she said. It was more her vibe: like absolutely none of this was a crisis or even the slightest bit weird, like getting your face done before going on television to defend your unconventional marriage to the entire eastern seaboard was just the most ordinary thing she’d ever seen.
Like they had all day to sit around and get everything absolutely perfect.
Caroline didn’t look at me once. She didn’t look at Mona. She treated Yukiko like she was the only woman in the world, the center of her attention, and Yukiko couldn’t help but warm to it.
“You’re nervous?” She asked at one point, her sponge making the bags under Yukiko’s eyes turn invisible.
“A little bit,” Kiki conceded.
“You don’t have to be.”
Yukiko glanced over at me. “People keep telling me that.”
“They’re right.” Caroline leaned back, examining her handiwork. “You want some tips?”
“Please,” Yukiko said.
A smile. “The lights out there are very bright, which is a double-edged sword. It’s hot and uncomfortable, but it also means you can’t really see the audience.
It’s like being in a warm little box. All you have to do is talk to the two people in front of you and forget the rest of the world exists.
” She winked. “Rachel is great and is going to love you. The two of you have very similar auras. Very settled. People like you do great on camera.”
“And the other host?” Yukiko asked. “Colin?”
“Don’t worry about Colin,” Caroline said, taking out a brush. “What’s your sign?”
Yukiko blinked, doing a double-take. “Uh… Virgo.”
Caroline laughed. “Of course you’re a Virgo. I bet your husband’s a Scorpio, isn’t he?”
“I don’t know what my sign is,” I muttered.
Yukiko glanced at me with a smile. “He is, actually.”
“He’d have to be,” Caroline agreed. “Don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart. You’re going to absolutely crush this interview. I promise.”
Then she did something very strange. While Yukiko’s gaze was still on the makeup brush, she turned and looked straight into my eyes.
“You’re going to crush it,” she repeated, the corner of her mouth curling in a smile.
Huh? Was she talking to me?
It only lasted for an instant. “Close your eyes,” Caroline said. “You need a touch more shade.”
As she finished up, I glanced over at Mona. She was watching Caroline with an expression I’d never seen from the shark—not even back when she worked for Daniel Ramsey.
“I would like to hire you,” she said, sounding like she was asking for a sandwich.
Caroline’s grin was wide and genuine. “I like where I am. But thank you.”
Whatever she was—and I genuinely was not certain what this woman was—she was the first person all morning who’d made my princess feel like she might make it to the other side of this interview in one piece.
I could understand why Mona would want to snatch her up as quickly as possible.
“Good luck,” she told Yukiko when she was done. “But you won’t need it.”
Five minutes after Caroline left, the show cut for a commercial break. “Hosts will be here in a second,” a page said, sticking their head into the green room.