Authors: Laura Major
Mia arrived home to a place that felt nothing like the home of a new television interior designer. The door echoed as she closed it. The loft was more like a tomb than a home. Every curtain was drawn shut and mail had been piling up for weeks. She’d been away for nearly three months on her latest reality show excursion and obviously Michael had moved out while she was gone. The last fight had been the worst. She knew the actions that set off the last verbal brawl had tested his limits like nothing she had done before. After five years of being with him, she knew he wasn't the type of man to strike her, but she was grateful the final confrontation took place over long-distance phone lines.
How can you pretend our life together never existed?
He had asked.
Do you really want to build your career on lies? I’ve put up with all your fame-seeking schemes, but this? What about us?
Mia figured Michael would have gotten over it by the time she’d returned but when she finally did, only empty hangers marked where his clothes had been. Looking around she hadn’t realized how much of the home’s charm had been his.
I guess I spent too much time masquerading around like an unattached woman to add my own charm to this space.
Mia’s clutch vibrated under her arm. She removed her cell and walked over to the loveseat.
“I’m glad I got a hold of you. I just talked to Jimmy…”
“Again, you’re talking to Jimmy? Did you at least get copies of my contract while you’re working him over?” Mia kicked off her red spiked heels and crossed her right blue trousered leg over the other.
“Do you want to change your persona or not?”
“I’m listening.”
“You’ve got a hair appointment tomorrow.”
“I just had my hair cut for the summer.”
“I didn’t say we were cutting it. You’re getting extensions.”
“I don’t do fake hair.”
“Give it a rest, you’re entire public persona has been a lie. That militant haircut and that razor ambition have managed to earn you bags of hate mail and lose you a boyfriend of five years. I think it’s time to soften your image, don’t you?”
“How is this
my
fault?”
“People want to believe that reality television is real. Everyone knows there’s dramatic license involved but they don’t want their faces rubbed in the outright lies you’ve created. Your potential career rests on your ability to get the public to forgive you. Part of that is seeing you differently.”
“So, the public hates me because I lied and I’m going to earn their forgiveness by lying to them again?”
“People won’t hold a few tracks of extra human hair sewn to your head against you. We’re not marketing you as an interior designer. We’re showing how someone with an eye for style—namely you, can apply that to home design.”
Mia admitted that Sandy’s rhetoric sounded good, but she knew she had to work hard to make this venture a success. Otherwise, she’d need to find another line of work. No easy consolation for someone with her eye on the media mogul’s chair.
***
Two weeks in no man’s land, Nate was beginning to think
Eye Design
would never materialize.
“How long are you going to be prancing around a studio set pretending to design homes?” Mitch had entered Nate’s office unannounced as usual.
“I wouldn’t call it prancing. I’m not a reindeer and these homes are a little more south of the North Pole.”
“Whatever. We have plenty of clients on the calendar to keep us busy till spring.” Mitch made himself comfortable in the chair across from Nate’s desk.
“OK. what about after spring? If we wait until we no longer have work to stir up new business, it’ll already be too late.”
“We need you here.” Mitch crossed his legs and propped his size 13 steel-toed boots on the edge of Nate’s desk. Nate was use to his brother’s need to use his size in an attempt to exert the power he wished he had.
“Think of all the publicity Long Designs will get, when I’m designing rooms and homes every week on television? Not just publicity, but publicity that earns us additional revenue.”
“I gotta give it to you, that’s the one silver lining. But you haven’t answered my question, all this work we’ve got isn’t going to get done with just me and my crew. Who’s going to help me while you’re making the most of your fifteen minutes?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Let me see what Jimmy’s been up to.” Nate picked up the phone.
“Be careful, I don’t want that weasel mixed up in our business. We’ve worked too hard for it. Remember what he’s been doing to your career, you’ve been idle for months. Then he snags you briefly with a hope of this television deal and again you’ve heard nothing for weeks. If it wasn’t for this business, you’d have nothing.”
“I’ve learned how to deal with Jimmy. Sit back and listen.” Nate dialed the number and waited for Jimmy to answer.
“Hey Jimmy, it's Nate.” Nate signaled silence from his brother as he pushed the speaker button and returned the receiver to the cradle. “What’s up with
Eye Design
? You wouldn’t have dragged me down to your office to sign that addendum just to pacify me would you?”
“Of course not, I know you’re the restless type—even with a multi-million dollar design firm to run.”
“There you go, counting my money again, Jimmy.” Nate ran a hand over his bristly 5 o’clock shadow.
“What’d you expect, Nate. I mean, you’re a pretty face with a body made for television but in the end I had to make sure you could actually design homes.”
“So, I checked out. What’s the hold up?”
“Do you know how long it takes to round up rooms and homes for the show? Not to mention all the legalities.”
“Jimmy, Jimmy…Jimmy... Why make this hard on yourself? Was your position at the network handed down to you or what?”
“Look, you’re a comedian too! What are you getting at?”
“You spent all this time checking me out…”
“Yeah, so?”
“I guess I’ll have to design the picture for you. Why not use my clients? The viewers will see what kind of work we do and you’ll have more potential clients for future shows than you know what to do with.”
“Those potential clients will still need to be screened.”
“Well, my firm can help with that too. At least the network could be making money from advertisers while you’re corralling more rooms and homes to design.”
“Will your clients agree to us filming their projects?”
“You let me worry about that.” Nate winked at his brother as he watched Mitch rub his chiseled jaw.
“What is it you want, Long?”
“I’m looking out for the success of the show, isn’t that what you warned me about when I was in your office?”
“Who are you kidding? The sooner this show gets off the ground, the sooner your contract will be over. Well, I hate to break it to you, Nate, but this show’s going to run for years. I can feel it.”
“Not without any projects, it won’t.”
“Fine, get it done. This is a temporary arrangement, got it? We’re building the show, not showcasing your business. Once I get the rhythm of screening and securing projects, the only reference to Long Designs will be in the ending credits of
Eye Design
.”
Nate hung up the phone without another word and gave his brother that famous Long smile.
***
Mia emerged from the salon fingering the wavy tresses swinging down her back.
I could get use to this. Too bad extensions require as much maintenance as my layered bob did.
Mia thought as she caught sight of herself in the window of her silver bullet on wheels. Sliding into the black leather driver's seat, her cell vibrated on her hip. The specialized tone told her it was the call she’d been waiting for.
“Are you calling with a taping schedule?” Mia asked skipping all salutations.
“Patience, Mia, is a virtue.”
“It’s more like a luxury I’m not willing to pay for. Now answer my question.” Mia felt her heart race in time with the sports car’s engine as she entered the expressway.
“I think I’ve provided plenty to keep you busy these last few weeks.”
“Yes and I did my homework…learning the part…keeping up this ridiculous hairstyle.”
“Fine. What’s a medallion?”
“It’s a circular ceiling accent for a light fixture.” Mia knew Sandy was stalling but wasn’t sure why.
“Nice. I’ll see you on set tomorrow at 7 sharp and stop running your fingers through that weaved mop on your head. No wonder you have to go to the salon so often.”
Mia quickly removed her free hand from the tangled mess she was making of her layers.
How did she know? And why are we meeting at the set instead of meeting at the first home site?
The loud sound of a dial tone assaulted Mia’s ears before she could protest. Mia blew all the air out of her lungs as she drove, she rarely woke up before nine much less appeared anywhere at 7 AM. That’s why she drove the reality television highway for all it was worth. At least with that preparation and sleep was part of the show.
“This better go as planned. My ass is on the line here.” James pulled on his tie, no longer caring that he still had several hours till the end of his workday.
“I’ve got everything within my control,” the voice assured him through the phone’s receiver. “So, relax Jimmy.”
“Mia is completely on-board, Sandy? That doesn’t seem likely.”
“Oh, she’s on-board as long as she thinks she’s steering the boat. What about this interior designer?”
“Do you know Nate Long from Long Designs? He’s not all fabric swatches and paint chips. Besides, his reaction is what worries me.”
“I’ve heard about him. Supposedly, he makes the bad boys of the silver screen look like girl scouts and yet has the design and construction sense of the design T.V. circuit's most notable interior designers.”
“And this won’t work without him.” James placed his head in his hands.
“We have an agreement. You know the consequences for not honoring it.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Jimmy knew he could no longer stall the cast of
Eye Design
from meeting again after that initial tumultuous test taping. Since then, his
Eye Design
crew had been following Nate around for several weeks and they even brought Mia in by herself for what was supposed to be a couple of screen tests. Now they were going to try taping at a live home site.
“Well then, get plenty of rest because tomorrow will call for another award-winning performance.”
James hung up not knowing how many more performances he had in him.
***
Pacing the set, James thought his chest might explode.
Where are they?
“Look Jimmy, what are we waiting for? Let’s go to the site.” Nate kept eyeballing him—even taunting him.
Does he know what's going on here?
“Nate, I thought it best we meet here first. I don’t know how to bring this up but…” Jimmy began to wring his hands as he spoke. Each word took all of his energy to leave his lips.
“Will I still like you after this?” Nate stepped closer toward Jimmy forcing him to step back to reclaim his personal space.
“I didn’t think you liked me, Nate.”
“I don’t, but I thought it sounded better than asking if what you are going to say would leave me with an incredible urge to snap your neck.”
James swallowed hard and coughed, “Like I was saying…”
“What were you saying Jimmy?” Sandy said as she entered the room and walked over to the two men.
“Sandy! I was just going to say to Nate here that you should be arriving any minute.” Jimmy regained his strength as he stood next to Sandy forming a unified front.
“Ahem, excuse me.” Mia stepped to the side leaving Sandy and Jimmy to square off across from Nate. “Would someone explain to me what we’re doing here?”
“While you’re at it, can someone explain to me what she’s doing here?” Nate jerked his head in Mia’s direction.
Jimmy knew that Nate didn’t like the presence of the reality queen and her manager needed no introductions. She was known for having the most troubled clients in Hollywood.
“Didn’t Jimmy tell you?” Sandy crossed her arms and gave James a sideways glance. A gesture that made the sloppy red hairs dangling from her bun appear even more fiery under the stage lights. “Meet the star of
Eye Design
, Mia Simpson.”
James felt himself hold his breath in anticipation of the wrath that was sure to rage forth from the sparks he saw in Nate’s eyes. “Well Nate, say something.”
Nate never took his eyes off Jimmy. “After all that time I spent arranging clients for you and letting your film crew shadow me on the job.” Then Nate shifted his glare to Mia grabbing her hand in a shake that appeared to Jimmy to be a little too tight from the contorted look on Mia’s face. “Well, I guess you knew exactly where the hell you were going didn’t you?”
“Nate, don’t forget you have a contract.” Sandy always seemed to speak when Jimmy was at a loss for words—for that he was grateful.
Feeling a surge of strength, Jimmy spoke up. “Yes, Nate. We have a show to tape.” Jimmy flinched as Nate released his grip on Mia's hand and stepped toward him. Jimmy closed his eyes only to feel the air shift on his left as Nate stormed passed him toward the stage exit.
In the parking garage, Nate hoisted his leg over his BMW motorcycle, turned over the ignition, and peeled into traffic in the direction of the home site. He was gripping the machine tightly at every point in which he connected with it as his muscles bulged beneath his white shirt and beige khaki pants. The crisp wind pricked his face like little daggers.
Why am I so angry? I prepared for this.
Nate hated letting Jimmy think he had blindsided him even for a moment. He couldn’t let his ego reveal his plan before the time was right. He knew Jimmy was up to something and felt it had to do with the hosting of the show but he hadn’t betted that this show would be riding on a reality show diva like Mia Simpson. When he nearly ran into her in the parking garage, he should have known her being in the vicinity of the studio meant something. Her presence didn’t ruin his plan; he just had to expand it, making the finale bigger so the result engulfed everyone involved.
Nate arrived at the site before anyone else. He was grateful for a little privacy. He removed his cell phone from his pocket and selected a preset number.