Marti was pacing back and forth and I wanted to slap her so hard she fell in a chair. She had the impression that I couldn't handle this interview. It wasn't with Entertainment Tonight or Access Hollywood, it was with a news anchor, but it was still going to be a puff piece. I wanted so badly to cancel this appearance but it wasn't about me, it was for Sarah and the Stoakley Foundation.
"Marti, sit down. What is wrong with you?" She stopped in the middle of her pacing and stared at me,
"This is live, news, lives." I wanted so badly to take that personally and be upset by her lack of confidence but I couldn't. I didn't care and besides it would stress her more if I sat here and didn't try to calm her down. I began to play with the necklace and smiled. I'm still holding out wishing that Steven could make it out here. I just know that once our schedules calm down and we're able to spend some time together it will be perfect; back to the way it used to be.
"Brehan, how is your life?" I smiled underneath the not only the bright lights but the glare of the attention from the news anchor,
"My life is wonderful which is why I feel it's my responsibility to help those who aren't as fortunate as myself." She smiled and I could tell she was impressed with my seamless segue,
"Speaking of the less fortunate. You are going to be working with the Stoakley Foundation. It's been around for a few years and has done some amazing work for breast cancer." I nodded,
"Yes it has. It has been in existence for seven years actually. Their mission is to raise money and awareness for breast cancer. It's named after Paige Stoakley. Her daughter, Sarah Lockeby, is a dear friend of mine so I'll do anything I can to help out." Her co-host, a nice looking older gentleman stepped in,
"Now tell us about what will be going on Saturday night." I gave him a warm smile and unlike the one I gave his female partner, it was genuine.
"Well, the gala is the final experience, if you will, of the three day event. Everyone gets dressed in their best. There's a wonderful orchestra, great food, great people and the night ends with the bachelor and bachelorette auction." He laughed,
"Now what is this auction all about?" I tossed my hair and smiled deviously,
"Well, if you see something you like, spend a lot of cash and they are yours." I know I could have worded that better, it wasn't even off the cuff, I was just a little bored. Little Miss High Society former Miss America, I know because she always manages to throw that out there. I mean, the subject could be about the West Nile Virus and she could manage to start the sentence with 'When I was Miss America".
"Doesn't that seem a bit exploitative?" I wanted to slap her but instead I did it with words,
"No more than a beauty pageant." I could hear Marti gasp and if it were possible she would have sucked all the air out of the room,
"You know, they are both the same to me. You get to see beautiful people but the money is for a good cause." There, I don't need Marti; I can fix my own shit. Not that I needed to or even wanted to but again, it wasn't about me. It was about Paige, Sarah and their foundation.
It's time for the interview to go along with the W magazine photoshoot that I did earlier. Why must there be so many interviews? They never ask me anything interesting and it's all a waste of fucking time as far as I'm concerned. I don't know what I expect them to ask me but something other than my eating habits, my workouts habits and what beauty secrets I have would be a start. It's amazing to me that I'm always sexed up in photo shoots but they continue to treat me like a good Mid-Western girl. I've pretty much been handled with kid gloves when it comes to the media. There was that little tidbit about me being difficult at one photoshoot but since there haven't been more stories like that, it was seen as a one-time thing, a fluke and that's how Marti liked it. I, of course, didn't care. Sometimes I feel like I'm living a lie and any moment I'm going to be caught. I'm not as nice as everyone believes and I feel like in the end it's going to come back to bite me in the ass. If the true drug-using, nympho, foul-mouthed demanding me comes out people are going to think I was being fake and that's not true. I've been honest about everything that has ever been asked of me but the media has just made me into this little darling. I'm sitting here sipping on a Pellegrino wanting to be anywhere but in the bar of the hotel,
"What is wrong in your life?" I stared at him, working hard to fight the surprise that I feel. A question like that has never been posed to me at least not so bluntly,
"I'm sorry. What do you mean?" He nodded his head not even returning my nervous smile, if for nothing more than to put me at ease,
"You have a dream job, you make millions, you're beautiful and you travel the world. What is bad about your life? Why are you human like the rest of us?" I know the last thing he wants to hear is complaints about jet lag. Anyone who trace places with me and suffer through the jet lag in exchange for traveling the world. I couldn't whine about privacy. This was the life I chose. Can't complain about the grueling hours or the work. It was better than being a bus driver like my father or teaching other people's fucking brats like my mother. What am I supposed to say? What does he want to hear?
"I don't know. I guess I have no complaints, my life is pretty good." He looked at me intently,
"There has to be something. No one's life is perfect so what are you struggling with at this moment." He seemed to read my mind,
"Besides hectic schedules and a lack of sleep." I licked my lips and nodded as I sat forward and picked up my glass,
"My love life." I took a sip and watched as his interest was heightened,
"And what is wrong with it?" I smiled as I leaned back in my chair,
"It's not too good. It's just not where I want it to be." He nodded,
"Is there someone in particular?" I nodded,
"Yes." Before he could continue I shook my head,
"But I don't care to discuss it." He smiled at me and I knew this was going to be a reporter worth talking to. It was a little scary but fun at the same time. He wasn’t necessarily out to get the dirt no one else had gotten; he was out to get me. He wouldn’t succeed but it was going to be fun watching him try.
I was on my way to Nick’s hotel room sans Sarah. I really wanted her to come so she could meet up with Nick again but she couldn’t make it. Earlier that night she accompanied me to a restaurant opening but we both left somewhat early. She left because she wanted to spend a little time with her grandmother and I left to see Nick but more than anything the food was disgusting and no one interested me. My phone rang and I searched through my bag,
“Hello?” It seemed as if I didn’t get it all out before I was cut off,
“Evelyn has filed a lawsuit and a restraining order against you. I don’t need this shit Brehan. Its always something with you.” He was so angry,
“Steven, what are you talking about?” Damn, just when things seemed to be back on track,
“When you decided to hit my wife. Remember that? She has filed suit against. I won’t be out there now.” I barely hit her. She was such a bitch; she didn’t have to do this. It was all about revenge and hatred.
Chapter 70
Stranger Than Fiction
Stories
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