Sweet Little Lies (7 page)

T
he flight heading east had gone by in a quick blur.The flight back home, not so much. Sometime after the first half hour, I found myself fighting fatigue. It was a mental tired though, the kind that sleep can’t solve. I set my iPod to an unobtrusive instrumental jazz mix, closed my eyes, and just let the thoughts run free. My mind was a jumbled mess and there was a vague ache in my heart that I couldn’t pin down.

You know that feeling you get when you suspect you have really screwed something up? Yep, that’s what it was.

Christina, you’re being melodramatic and stupid.

Maybe I was, but in the past seven years I’d been through three fiancés and now an ill-timed fling with my deliveryman. The look on his face as he backed away from me was one I wouldn’t soon forget. I never wanted to be responsible for making a person look like that, like they weren’t good enough and there was nothing they could do about it.

That really wasn’t my intent. I’d intended to spare both of us a lot of drama and heartache. Hell, I’d intended to just go to dinner with him and go about my life. I couldn’t justify why I
let it go on, knowing both of us were going too far too fast. But I hadn’t felt that good in ages. Not just physically but mentally. There was an energy between me and Steven that buoyed me and made me feel like the world was an exciting place where exciting things were waiting right around the corner.And whatever those things were, I could handle them, especially with a man like him by my side.

I hadn’t felt that way, supercharged by life, since I left for college. College was an escape from my mother’s clinginess and my brothers’ overprotectiveness. With my father dying when I was so young, my mother and brothers always felt they had to overcompensate and fill that void. But they never understood that I wanted to feel the void and learn how to live with the empty space instead of filling it with substitutes.

Growing up, I was the girl everything came easily to. Or so it seemed. I worked my ass off for every A, to make head cheerleader, to be fourth in my class, to get that full tuition scholarship to Berkeley and the internship at the
Chronicle
. Graduate school, then the job at Valiant. I started out writing four-line commentaries as filler on the Web pages. From the outside looking in, I get that it looked easy.

No, I never had to worry about whether the bills were paid or where my next meal came from, and I recognized that for the blessing it was. But nobody gave me anything on a silver platter. I was taught that if you worked hard and you really wanted it, eventually you would reap the rewards.

Funny how that didn’t seem to work in my private life. Cedric was my college sweetheart. He was literally the boy next door in my coed dorm. He was your all-around good guy. Smart, ambitious, and good-looking in a generically handsome way. We came from similar socio-economic backgrounds and had the same goals. We understood each other. We were friends first. He was taking forever to make a move, so I nudged him along. And though it wasn’t all magic and moonbeams, it was nice and exactly what I expected. Things moved
very quickly after that.We went from friends to fiancés in no time flat. Everyone loved Cedric. He was articulate, steady; you knew what you were getting with Cedric. Or so I thought. He was the very last person I thought would hurt or betray me. But he did. When he announced that he married someone else in the middle of our engagement, I was angry at him, of course, but I was livid with myself that I hadn’t even noticed that anything was wrong. It took months before I even thought about dating again, let alone letting it get serious.

When Perry came along, he was like a balm to my wounded spirit. He said all the right things, liked all the things I liked, and was by far the easiest man to get along with in the world. He was flashy and spontaneous and went with his heart instead of his head. We had ridiculous arguments, we agreed on nothing but the fact that we were committed to each other. There were days where he felt more like a good friend than a lover, but I counted that as a positive. He was Cedric’s polar opposite. I never knew what to expect from Perry from one day to the next. But the unpredictability was exciting…right up until it bit me in the ass. Again, I was left to wonder what signs I’d missed and why.

Jay/David was supposed to be one who proved (to me and everyone else) that I could get it right. I took my time with him, I was cautious and watchful. The chemistry was there; we had fun together. Jay/David was steady but not dull. He laughed a lot and was great for delivering the grand gesture. He was about the thirty-six roses on a Wednesday afternoon for no reason. Spontaneous trips to Napa just because. Proposing in the middle of a Golden State Warriors game on the jumbotron. That was Jay/David. And I just realized while looking back that that was all I knew to be 100 percent true about him. For all I knew everything else was fabricated.

In fact, chances were that I knew more about Steven, having spent five days with him, than I ever knew about Jay / David over the course of three years.And that depressed me all
the more and it made me angry.Yes, extremely angry. I sent Steven packing because I couldn’t trust my feelings or my judgment any more. I couldn’t trust that what seemed like the best sex I ever had wasn’t on account of my rebounding, übervulnerable emotions. I was angry that I couldn’t trust that feeling I had, strolling around Manhattan holding hands with Steven. That feeling that I’d found something worth holding on to. Couldn’t trust it, so I ran away. Or rather, pushed a nice guy away. A nice guy who had done nothing to deserve that look on his face.

What in the hell am I doing with my life?

That was it. No more men. Not on the serious tip, anyway. All casual, all the time. Clearly, what I was good at was career-building, investigative reporting, journalism—that was it. That was my world. From now on …I was Christina, strong yet driven, successful yet detached, single yet determined. I went to New York broken and tired. I was coming back just as tired but with my new attitude serving as Band-Aids, holding me together. I was, above all, a survivor.

T
he West Coast offices of Valiant News Network reflected the eclectic tastes of the area. The floor was designed in a funky loft-style with exposed ductwork and polished concrete. Steel and leather furniture meshed with twill fabrics in burgundy, teal, and gray.

“Christina, you’re back on the air in three… two… one.” The red light on cameras one and two went on.

“Welcome back to VNN, where your news is what counts. Following up on the story of the day, Congressman Walker is being investigated for allegedly pocketing funds earmarked for researching the viability of building a cross-country, highspeed rail system. The project, nicknamed Mercury, was supposed to launch two years ago but fell apart due to lack of funding. Did that funding finance Congressman Walker’s lavish lifestyle? Stay with us on the Valiant News Network.We’ll be getting to the bottom of this story. Next up, sports. Which Bay Area team is heading to the play-offs without its marquee star? Let’s check in with Vic to find out.Vic, what can you tell us?”

As the camera cut away to Vic, my assistant ran up to the
desk. “Your mother’s holding on line two. She said to smile more. Lisa’s waiting to video chat, and your brother is waiting in your office.”

Typical Mom stuff, and unfortunately typical Lisa stuff. “Thanks, Diane.Tell my mom I’ll call her back. Lisa knows I’m on air live, and which brother?”

“Collin.”

Curious. Collin was not a drop-by-the-office kind of guy. “Okay, he can come out to the newsroom. Has Carey landed yet?” Carey was transferring to the San Francisco office after finally (finally!) breaking free of her boyfriend, Bryan, a little over six months ago.

“Not yet. I’ll go get Collin.”

I finished my 10:00 a.m. updates, handed over the anchor desk to Tracey, and stepped down off the podium. I walked over to Collin. My oldest brother was a tall, dark, überpreppy man, well aware of his attractiveness. He had the Buppie-with-bank look down cold. Collin had the same chocolate skin tone as me and wore his hair closely cropped to his head with a razor-sharp line. He was right at six feet tall with the build of a man who was vain enough to stay in the gym. Generally suited in To m Ford and flawlessly groomed, today he seemed a little rumpled.

Leaning in to give him a hug, I noticed he wasn’t wearing his customary all-is-right-with-my-world, don’t-you-wish-you-were-me look.“What’s wrong?”

“Great job as always. Are you ever going to take over a whole show, or just stay special correspondent?”

Hmm, he wasn’t answering a direct question.“Collin, you already know I don’t want to anchor. I’m already producing, directing, editing, and doing investigative reports—that’s enough.What’s going on?”

His shoulders fell.“In your office.”

This couldn’t be good. Grabbing two bottles of water, I handed one to him as we sat on my tiny sofa. Collin was normally
talkative, garrulous even, with a personality that filled a room effortlessly. Quiet, subdued Collin was troubling, but I let him take his time opening up.

“Celia’s cheating on me.”

Perky, perfect Celia? “Not a chance in hell.”

“She is! She’s been taking these classes at Bayside U and her hours are getting more erratic, she’s evasive about her whereabouts, not answering her phone, and …”

“What?”

He looked around as if making sure we weren’t overheard. “We’re off schedule.”

“Off schedule?” I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yes. We schedule things, Christina, and the schedule is off.” He narrowed his eyes as if willing me to understand.

“What things? It’s just the two of you—what could you possibly be scheduling?”

He huffed.“Intimate man-wife things.”

I couldn’t help it. My mouth fell open and I had to clap a hand over it to hold the laughter in. Knowing he was not appreciating my amusement, I struggled to contain myself. Minutes later, I was adequately composed.“Are you telling me you schedule sex? How often? For how long? Do you request certain acts in advance? Do you track it with reminders in your BlackBerry?”

“Christina. I’m serious here.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. On further reflection, I probably really don’t need the details anyway. So you’re off schedule. By days or weeks?”

“Months.”

“Months! Did you talk to her about it?”

“We don’t discuss that sort of thing in detail.”

“Say what now?”What married couple without kids was skipping sex for months and not calling each other out about it?

“Christina, not all of us are passing it out with double
coupons and keeping some sort of scorecard by the bed, okay? Some of us are happy to be in committed, mature relationships.”

Well, ouch. Granted, I had given up on the happily-ever-after thing.And okay, maybe I had a fairly lengthy list of rotating FwBs (Friends with Benefits). But I was a busy woman and in no frame of mind to have to nurture and support somebody who was ultimately going to walk away carrying what was left of my heart when he went. My needs were attended to as I saw fit, on my playing field, by my rules. Still, no reason for my own brother to call me all measure of slutty. “Collin, you are rapidly losing my sympathy.What can I do to help?”

“Sorry, Ti. Just, you know—it’s been five years since the Jay /David debacle.We kinda hoped you would be back in the relationship saddle by now.”

“We?” I didn’t like the thought that I was fodder for family gossip. But now wasn’t the time to have that discussion. “Never mind, this isn’t about me.What do you want me to do about Celia?”

“Do you mind sniffing around campus a little? Just let me know if I’m way off base or not?”

“Are you sure? Take it from me, this is the kinda thing that once you know—you can’t ignore it.”

“I need to know.” My confident Collin sounded as unsure as I’d ever heard him.

“Okay, but I gotta tell you—even with your schedule slippage, I find it hard to believe that Celia is stepping out. She adores you … to a fault.”

“I don’t know. I’ve been on the EVP track and not paying her as much attention as I used to.”

“What VP track?” Collin worked as a hedge funds manager for a financial services company. I had no idea what that meant, except that I gave him my savings and he turned it into more savings. Collin had been successful and comfortable for so long that it honestly never occurred to me to wonder what
his ultimate goals and aspirations were. Though now that he mentioned it, an executive vice presidency before the age of fifty sounded very much like Collin. For all our faults, the Brinsleys were all madly ambitious.

“Again, Ti—you haven’t been very plugged in. Anyway, I was hoping you could find a way to just discreetly see what’s going on and let me know.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Collin. Don’t even worry about it.”

“Thanks, baby sis.” He gave me a one-armed hug. “Sorry about the coupon thing. I know you’re dealing in your own way.”

Somehow that actually made me feel worse. I almost would rather have his disapproval than his pity. I hugged him back and sent him on his way before sliding behind my desk and adjusting the monitor. Clicking a few keys on the keyboard, I opened the video conferencing software and found the call that was waiting in the queue.

“Hey, Lisa, what’s up in the Southland today?” Lisa and I had battled it out to head West Coast operations. For two years we had grappled for assignments, one-upping each other.With the exception of a
Dynasty
-style catfight in the middle of the newsroom, we battled. Whether through sheer perserverance or the fact that I refused to take the low road and I never griped about it, I won the leadership position in the West.This was something she never got over, even after she was given the entertainment desk down in Los Angeles.

Valiant had grown significantly in scope over the past five years. Becoming less of a Web magazine and blogger hangout, Valiant morphed into more of a crossover media vehicle. Our channel, Valiant News Network (VNN), was driven by those bloggers and Web enthusiasts who first started following our online magazines. Our popularity was based on the fact that our content was viewer driven. We showed the stories they wanted to see, not whatever the mainstream media thought was hot. Our one concession to pop culture was the daily onehour
segment concentrating on entertainment news. Thankfully, that was Lisa’s domain.

“I needed you to sign off for the award season expenditures.” Lisa had been requesting what amounted to one-fourth of the entire quarterly budget so she could “properly” cover award shows and parties in LA.

“You didn’t send any justifications, Lisa. You sent me the e-mail equivalent of a blank check and asked me to sign it.”

“Exactly. I know what I need; you don’t—just find a way to get me the funds.”

I eyeballed the image on the monitor.“What do you really think the probability of that happening is?”

“You aren’t confident enough in your leadership to let go of the purse strings.”

Seven years in this company and she still thought she could manipulate me. Truthfully, this position would be a lot closer to perfect if it wasn’t for the constant Lisa shenanigans I was forced to deal with. “Send me the budget requests, complete with details, and we’ll see what we can get from New York, okay?”

“Why don’t I just call New York directly and tell them you don’t understand this side of the business.”

“Good luck with that, Lisa. Have a good day.” I disconnected and turned my chair around to face the window. It was 11:00 a.m. and I was already exhausted. Valiant still ran lean. That meant that I had to be reporter, anchor, producer, director, manager, and finance person all at once. They paid me handsomely, but days like today made me wonder if it was worth it. That was one of the reasons I was so glad they were sending Carey out. She was going to be my second-in-command and a person I could trust not to run tattling back to headquarters every time I did something the least bit unorthodox… which was often.

My intercom buzzed.“Carey is on her way in from the airport,
your mother is back on the line, and Brandon says he has a contact over at Bayside U who can give you some background on your Project Mercury story.”

“At Bayside?”This would be a great opportunity for me to kill two birds with one stone.

“Yeah, some professor over there leads a research foundation called Chi-Wind. Brandon wants to know if you want him to call first, or if you’ll just go in cold.”

“I’ll go in cold. Tell him to e-mail me the details; I’ll take a look and go over them first thing tomorrow. Can you pull whatever we have on high-speed rail, wind energy, and green initiatives and forward it to me? Oh, and go ahead and put my mom through.”Taking the top off the bottled water, I reached with my right hand into the top drawer for the Advil I kept there. Taking a deep breath, I hit the button for line two.“Hi, Mom.”

“What was your brother doing there? Why did you wear green on camera, baby? You know it washes you out. Did I tell you I met a young man you might be interested in dating?” It was a quintessential Joanna Brinsley conversation. Quick, question laden, and the slightest bit accusatory. Swallowing the two Advil, I rested my head against the back of the chair. It was shaping up to be one of those days.

“Visiting, I wear what Wardrobe puts me in, I’m not interested in young men right now—don’t you have a luncheon for spina bifida today?”

“Spinal-cord injuries and stem-cell research, Christina.”

Whatever. Joanna was a lady who lunched. I had given up knowing the cause of the day years ago.“Sorry, Mom, I’m in a terrible rush. Carey is coming in and we have a ton of work to cover before we can get her settled in.”

“Once she’s settled in, you’ll be able to relax and have a real social life again, won’t you?”

Wow, second jab from family today about my social life.
They clearly were not appreciating my no-muss-no-fuss approach to dating. I was keeping my encounters light. Why was that anybody’s business but mine? I also knew better than to rise to the bait.

“Most definitely. Maybe I’ll even meet that young man you’ve got lined up.”

“Good, good—oh, I told your brother Clarke to treat you and Casey to dinner tonight.”

Why my mother still felt I needed a man to buy my meals was beyond me. “It’s Carey, Mom. Not Casey. And I’ll check with her—she may just want a quiet evening at the house.”

“Oh, baby, don’t become a recluse.You know that’s why Jackie and Lynne are married and you are still single.You’ve become a workaholic recluse.”

Rolling my eyes, I bit back what I wanted to say. Jackie was married to a man she met online and was now expecting her first child. Lynne was married (at long last) to her longtime boyfriend. I caught up with them when our schedules permitted, but it seemed there just weren’t enough hours in the day to get everything in as it was. I thought about explaining this but decided it was easier to tell her what she wanted to hear. “Okay, Mom, I’ll check in with Clarke in a few minutes.”

That seemed to pacify her enough to move her along to the end of her conversational thread. Hanging up, I could finally get down to the business of the day. I turned on the TV to see how Tracey was doing on the desk. Prayerfully, it was a slow news morning and we could fill with pretaped human interest stories.Valiant News Network came across as a lighter, friendlier channel. Somewhere in between a HLN and a full-on CNN. Our major stories broke from the New York office, but we handled just about everything else here in San Francisco, with the exception of the team we had in Los Angeles. So while we kept a live anchor on desk, we repeated major stories throughout the day. Since I wore so many hats, this allowed
my associate news director to stay on breaking news while I dealt with station business.

I was reviewing the pitches for upcoming stories when the phone buzzed again.“Yes, Diane?”

“Carey’s on her way back and Jeri’s on line three.”

“Send her back, and thanks.” Digging through the piles on my desk to get to the folder holding the information I thought Jeri would want to talk about, I pushed the blinking red button by line three.“Hey, Jeri.”