Chapter Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Seven
WHEN HER PHONE RANG AT SEVEN FIFTEEN IN THE morning, Emma was already awake—because she’d never fallen asleep. She’d spent the entire night beating herself up for almost kissing someone who wasn’t her fiancé. The one silver lining of her broken engagement was that everyone agreed she had the moral high ground. It was a nice and noble place to live, and she wasn’t sure if she had to give it up now that she was an almost-cheater. Out of all the agonizing emotions Emma had experienced the past few months, it turned out that guilt was the worst one.
As she reached for her phone and saw an unfamiliar number, Emma debated sending the call to voicemail. But a judgmental voice in her head told her that the least she could do was be nice to a telemarketer now that she was officially a bad person.
“Hello?” Emma croaked. She coughed to clear her morning phlegm.
“Is this Emma Moskowitz?” A rather brusque voice asked as if Emma was somehow already wasting her time.
“Yes, may I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Lanie Reyes with The Amanda Sharpe Show . We had a last-minute guest cancellation this morning and we were wondering if you would be willing to come on today to talk about—” Emma heard the sound of papers being shuffled “—Operation: Save My Date. Amanda has been listening to your podcast and would love to share the unique idea with her audience.”
Emma shot up in bed. Amanda Sharpe was an icon. Since starting out as a child actor, Amanda had managed to star in countless movies, start a wildly successful athleisure company and launch the most popular daytime talk show since Oprah . Amanda also seemed super nice in a relatable way, like she just so happened to be super successful and wasn’t that wonderful?
Being interviewed on The Amanda Sharpe Show launched people into stardom—or made them the most hated person on the internet for forty-eight hours. It was the definition of exposure.
“Emma, I’m going to need you to tell me yes or no.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Emma exclaimed. “I’d be honored.”
“Great. If you give me your email, I’ll have my assistant send you all the information. We’ll need you in the Burbank studio by one.”
“No problem. I’ll have to reschedule a few clients but—”
“Can I have that email?”
“Yes, sorry,” Emma replied as she rattled it off.
“See you soon. Don’t wear a pattern,” Lanie said before hanging up.
Emma immediately let out a squeal of excitement. Amanda Sharpe wanted to interview her . Maybe she wasn’t such a terrible person after all.
***
“There just isn’t enough time,” Jackie declared as the three Moskowitz women stood in her custom-made walk-in closet. “Even if I managed to find the right outfit, there isn’t time to dye her hair.”
“Why do I need to dye my hair?” Emma asked as she stood mostly naked in front of her mom and sister. She’d spent the past thirty minutes trying on different nonpatterned outfits to no avail. They either looked terrible or caused her so much discomfort she couldn’t think straight. It was further proof that being fashionable was a nightmare.
“You have a few grays,” Jackie said. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“I don’t think anyone will notice,” Debbie replied. “The camera won’t be on the top of her head.”
“We have to be prepared for everything.”
“I don’t care if people can see I have gray hair. It’s a natural part of aging gracefully.”
Jackie looked at Emma as if she had just suggested cutting off her toes and sticking them in a blender to live longer. “I can’t deal with your ridiculous ideas about embracing wrinkles and cellulite right now. We need to find you something to wear.”
“I might have something,” Debbie offered. “I brought it with me just in case.” She dug into her large Longchamp tote bag and pulled out a black, knee-length dress with capped sleeves and large gold buttons down the front. It was simple and gorgeous. Emma reached for it and was surprised to find it was made of a deliciously soft knit.
“Why have we never seen this before?” Emma asked as she unzipped the back to shimmy into it.
“Probably because I haven’t worn it since you were born. It was a work dress.”
Emma pulled the fabric over her head—her pear-shaped body made stepping into dresses impossible because her butt always got in the way. As she pulled it down, she immediately knew their problems had been solved.
“What do you think?” Emma asked with her arms out to show it off.
“I love it,” Debbie exclaimed.
Jackie took a bit longer in her assessment. Emma held her breath as her older sister’s eyes scanned her body. She understood that she was no longer a person but a product about to be unveiled to the public.
Jackie deftly adjusted the sleeves before declaring, “I think it will work.”
“Oh, thank god,” Emma and Debbie said in unison.
A few grueling hours later, Emma and Jackie were sitting in the green room for The Amanda Sharpe Show . Emma had only wanted to bring one guest backstage so she wouldn’t feel overwhelmed, and Jackie had insisted that as Emma’s manager she should be the one to go. Emma had no idea Jackie was her manager, but after sitting through two hours of hair and makeup she didn’t have the energy to question it.
“I thought they’d have better food,” Jackie complained as she looked over the show’s offerings. The room was rather small, and Emma suspected there must be a larger one for bigger guests. Not that that bothered her; she still couldn’t believe she was important enough to be sitting in Amanda Sharpe’s less-important green room. When Emma called her book editor to tell her the good news, Michelle had shouted a flurry of positive expletives followed by at least five reminders to mention her upcoming book.
Matt, on the other hand, hadn’t seemed to understand the significance of the news, not being in Amanda’s target fan base. Still, he was happy Emma was so happy. He’d even offered to blow off work to come watch the taping in the studio with her parents, but Emma told him it would make her too nervous. In reality, she wasn’t quite yet ready to face him after her reckless and devastating night with Will. She’d had to stop herself multiple times from sending Will a photo of her next to a cardboard cutout of Amanda she’d found in the hall. They had a whole elaborate bit about the power of cardboard cutouts. You had to be pretty important to get one of those. Maybe one quick text wouldn’t be the end of the world—especially considering she was on the show to plug their shared podcast…
“Knock, knock,” a familiar voice rang out from the doorway. Emma looked up to a thirty-something woman wearing a headset and one of the coolest outfits Emma had ever seen: a dark green velvet pantsuit with a Rilo Kiley band T-shirt underneath, paired with bright white platform sneakers. Emma sent out a silent prayer to the universe that she would one day be the kind of person who could pull that off.
“So glad to see you’re settled in. I’m Lanie—we spoke on the phone. Amanda just wanted to check if there was anything off-limits when it comes to the interview. She never wants her guests to feel attacked or violated.” Lanie spoke flatly, as if she was repeating this speech for the thousandth time and no longer attached any actual meaning to the words coming out of her mouth.
“Oh,” Emma replied as she looked at her new manager for guidance. “I don’t think so?”
“Emma’s happy to discuss whatever Amanda wants to talk about,” Jackie said confidently. “We’re just excited to be here to spread the word about nontraditional ways to find fulfilling partnerships in the age of apps and ghosting.”
“Great, I’ll let her know,” Lanie said as she left to deal with something else.
Emma turned to Jackie, impressed. “Did you just come up with that?”
“I’ve been working on how to pitch you as a guest. Once this episode comes out, I’m sure more places will want to talk to you.”
“How are you so good at this?”
Jackie shrugged. “I know how to google. And I like to watch Entourage when I’m working out.”
“Emma, we’re ready for you,” Lanie’s assistant called from the hallway.
Emma stood up and smoothed out her mother’s dress. She nervously spun her enormous engagement ring with her thumb as she made her way to the stage. There was no going back now.
***
“Let me just say, I am so excited to have you here,” Amanda Sharpe gushed to Emma, who was doing her best to sit upright despite the deepness of the couch. “One of my friends sent me your podcast and I was immediately like, okay, I need to talk to this girl. Maybe she can help me find a husband. Or, I guess, another husband.”
The crowd laughed with glee. Amanda was delightfully candid about her three divorces. Emma chuckled along too, trying to stay grounded in what felt like an out-of-body experience. Amanda was somehow even more charismatic and charming in person.
“I’d be honored to help. Something tells me it wouldn’t be that hard.”
“I guess I don’t have a problem getting married. I just can’t seem to stay married,” Amanda admitted with refreshing self-awareness. “Which brings me back to your story. After being left by your fiancé, you decided to keep your wedding date and find a new groom. And you’ve been sharing the entire journey through your YouTube channel and your new podcast. There’s been a lot of pushback online suggesting that this is some sort of publicity stunt or a misguided attempt to avoid being single. But as a licensed couples therapist and relationship expert, you say there is a method to your madness?”
“I sure hope so,” Emma joked before immediately regretting attempting to be funny on live-to-tape TV. A wave of relief washed over her when she heard at least some of the audience laugh, including her father, who was seated in the front row. “I know that at face value, Operation: Save My Date seems like an extreme experiment destined to fail. But committing to marriage early on in a relationship isn’t a unique idea. We see plenty of cultures who practice arranged marriages and know of many people in the military who tie the knot quickly before a deployment. There really is no evidence to suggest that the amount of time you date someone directly correlates with the well-being or longevity of your marriage. What matters more, in my opinion, is that both people have a willingness to work on things and a similar conceptualization of what it even means to be married in today’s society.”
“And it seems like you have found both those things with your new fiancé.” Amanda turned in her chair and gestured toward the large screen behind them. A photo of Emma and Matt with their arms around each other at his second cousin’s baby shower appeared. “Look at that man! He is gorgeous. Let’s give Emma a round of applause for bagging him—I would marry a stranger too if he looked like that.”
The audience clapped and cheered louder than Emma expected. She felt her face flush with embarrassment, slightly worried that everyone thought Matt was too good-looking for her. “I definitely got lucky.”
“Can you tell me the moment you knew Matt was The One?”
“I actually don’t believe in ‘The One.’ Part of why I wanted to do this was to prove that we are all compatible with a bunch of different people. We don’t need to get hung up on our exes or unrequited loves when it’s more productive and fulfilling to focus on finding a connection with someone else—someone new.”
“I love that,” Amanda said as she curled her legs up on the couch and leaned closer, giving the impression that they were just two ladies gabbing in an apartment instead of on a freezing--cold soundstage. Even though Emma knew Amanda was purposefully creating an illusion of intimacy to make her open up and produce better TV, Emma could feel the tactic working. She let herself lean back into the couch cushions.
“I find it so interesting to hear you use the word prove ,” Amanda added. “Do you feel like you’re just doing this for yourself? Or is there a part of you that is motivated by giving your audience a happy ending? I know you and your podcast cohost, Will Stoll, seem to disagree on this front.”
Emma tried not to visibly bristle at the mention of Will. “That’s a good question. If I’m being totally honest, it’s probably a mix of both. I want people to know that you don’t have to give up on love just because one person in the world no longer loves you. And I also want to move forward in my own life and start a family.”
“Hmm,” Amanda said. It was startling how ominous a simple sound could be. “I guess I just view marriage as a deeply personal choice. So my antennas go up when I hear you talking about your future marriage as anything more than a private decision between two people who love each other.”
“I hear you. But people get married for all sorts of reasons: familial pressure, financial stability. If other people happen to get something out of my marriage too, even if it is just a bit of hope, that seems like a good thing.”
“Sure,” Amanda agreed as she shifted even closer. “And maybe I’m just feeling protective or projecting, which you all know I love to do. I just don’t want you to lose sight of what’s right for you , simply because you don’t want to let other people down. Like I did when I agreed to make a sequel for The Fisherman’s Daughter, even though I knew it was a terrible script . It currently has score of seven on Rotten Tomatoes, by the way.”
More uproarious laughter from the crowd. This woman could start a proper cult if she wanted to.
“But what the hell do I know?” Amanda asked as she reached out and patted Emma’s knee as consolation for questioning her life choices in front of millions of people. “You’re the relationship expert. And I’m still in love with my second ex-husband.”
Emma forced a smile and wondered how much longer she’d have to look like a total idiot before they cut to a commercial break.