The Accidental Diva Read online

  “Billie, I’ve got to say, you’ve just matured in a thousand ways before my very eyes,” said Renee. Beaming proudly, she raised her mimosa. “I propose a toast.”

  “To the new Billie,” continued Vida, raising her glass. “A girl who now, given a chance to go back, wouldn’t even have considered the bangs that called for that goddamned curling iron.”

  The three girls happily clinked together their champagne flutes. And then Billie’s mood darkened.

  “The thing is,” she started, “what if he’s the one?”

  Renee looked at her searchingly. “Is he?”

  Billie said nothing, then put her face in her hands and groaned. “Can we change the subject, please? I feel like I’m on Barbara Walters.”

  “Okay,” said Vida, her turquoise-mascara’d eyes twinkling. “I have an entertaining bit of gossip.”

  “Oh good! What is it?” Billie was relieved.

  “It’s sort of related, but it’s funny, not traumatic. Guess who Git’s going out with?”

  “Foxy Brown?” asked Billie.

  “Keshia Knight Pulliam?” asked Renee.

  “No and no. Pandora!”

  “Shutup!” yelled Billie. “When…how…when did they even meet each other?”

  “Not a clue. But I saw them together at Lotus last night, and it was very ‘get a room.’”

  “That girl!” exclaimed Renee, awestruck. “Forget Kevin Bacon, it’s really all about ‘Six Degrees of Pandora.’”

  “Did they look happy?” asked Billie. Her feelings toward Tammy had gone through many stages over the past month. First, she had hated her. The cheap tramp. Then, she had been wildly jealous of her. How could she compete with the history she and Jay had shared? What could she possibly offer Jay that Tammy couldn’t? Here was a girl who knew exactly where he came from—a girl he never had to explain himself to. And then she had felt threatened. Like she’d never stood a chance with him. Like he had hoodwinked her into a false sense of security…when all along he had had another soul mate waiting in the wings. But in the past couple of weeks, Billie had softened toward Tammy a bit. She thought a lot about her past, and actually started to feel for her. She even quoted her in the Culture Club article, though she couldn’t bring herself to actually speak to her—she’d had Sandy call and conduct the interview.

  “They looked thrilled,” admitted Vida. “I think they’re a better match than we were.”

  “Were you mad?”

  “Hell no! You think I’m trippin’ off him when I got James? Whose dick I can barely fit in my mouth?”

  “Ouch,” grimaced Renee.

  “How did you do it, Vida?” asked Billie. “You guys broke up, and you moved on in, like, five minutes.”

  “It’s different. I was feeling Git, but he was never in my blood, in my bones. It wasn’t like you two.”

  Billie didn’t have anything to say to that. She didn’t have much to say for the rest of the brunch, either.

  * * *

  • • •

  The next day at work, Billie was swamped. Not only was she putting through her executive editor’s final edits on Culture Club, she was also trying to clear out her office and make sure her work visa would be completed on time. Today was the first day of her last week.

  That morning, Billie had walked into what she thought was a production schedule meeting, and was heartily surprised by a little breakfast in her honor. The whole staff had turned out to nibble on chocolate-covered strawberries and toast her with mimosas. Billie was mortified. Being put in the spotlight like that always made her nervous. The worst part was when she was forced to make a speech about her years at Du Jour, while Mary and Sandy cried hysterically. She knew they were crying less out of sadness than out of fear—Billie would no longer be there to act as a buffer between them and evil Paige. And Paige eyed her suspiciously, seeing right through her line about how “the most valuable thing she picked up working with Paige was her work ethic.”

  Now back in the office, Billie was frantically typing away at her edits, trying to get most of them done before lunch. Of course, her phone wouldn’t stop ringing, but the caller ID allowed her to screen her calls. When “Lobby Reception” popped up, she heaved a distracted sigh and decided to pick it up. It could be an important delivery, like her visa.

  “Du Jour, this is Billie.”

  “Hi, Billie, I have a Mr. Jay Lane to see you?”

  She froze, her heart stopping. She almost dropped the receiver. Should she let him up, or send him away? Oh God.

  Buying time, she said, “Jay Lane? Hmm…where’s he from?”

  The receptionist put her on hold, then said, “Um…he says the bowels of misery, ma’am.”

  Billie was torn. She was dying to see him, but she knew she had made the right decision and wanted to stand her ground. God, why was he making this hard?

  “Hello? Billie, are you there?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m here. Uh…uh…okay. Okay. You can send him up. Thanks.”

  “Shit!” she said out loud, not knowing what to do. What was he here for? What would he say? And most important, how did she look? She pulled out her compact and hurriedly dabbed on some blush and lip gloss. She pursed her lips together and decided she was ready for anything. War, famine, confrontations with ex-boyfriends…

  “Just stay strong, Billie,” she told herself. “Stay strong.” She tried to think fast…. Where would they talk? Certainly not in her cubicle—both Mary and Sandy were right over the partition, and Paige was across the hall in her office. They’d all hear everything. Billie wanted to burst into tears. Why’d he have to come to her office? She felt so trapped….

  It didn’t matter. Because there he was, knocking on the wall at the entrance to her cubicle. Jay. With an enormous gift bag.

  “How did you know where my office was?” Billie asked when she found her voice.

  “Your friend Mary showed me,” he said. Mare Bear popped out from behind him, grinning mischievously.

  “I was on my way from the bathroom,” she confessed with a shrug, and scurried back to her desk.

  “She’s cute,” said Jay.

  She nodded, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. They couldn’t look each other in the eye. “So, what’s up?”

  “I, um, found out that this was your last week at work, so I wanted to come say goodbye. You know, in person.”

  “How thoughtful.”

  “I try.”

  “I guess Renee told you, huh?”

  “I forced it out of her. She didn’t want to tell me.”

  “Oh. No, I guess she wouldn’t want to.”

  “Renee’s a good friend. To you, I mean.”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “So are you ready? Are you packed and everything?”

  “Yep, all packed.” Billie was incredibly sad. She never thought she’d ever be having this kind of stilted, generic conversation with Jay. Of all people. All of a sudden, she wanted him to leave.

  “So this is your office. I can’t believe I’ve never been here.”

  Billie nodded and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Me either.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Oh, of course.”

  He came in and sat on the edge of her desk, in front of her. Taking a breath, he handed her the gift bag.

  “I brought you something, a sort of farewell gift.”

  “Jay, you shouldn’t have,” she said, taking the bag from him. It was outrageously heavy. “Jesus, what’s in here?”

  “It’s no big deal. Just some reading material for London. If you get bored. Whatever.”

  Billie opened the bag and found a stack of books. Used biographies, all stamped with the logo from the Biography Bookshop. Their first date. She looked at him, and someth
ing passed between them.

  “Pull them out,” he said softly.

  She unloaded the bag, gasping with delight. They were biographies of her all-time favorite ladies: Elizabeth Taylor, Dorothy Dandridge, Bette Davis, Ava Gardner, Lana Turner, Billie Holiday, Josephine Baker, Joan Crawford, Diana Ross, and on and on. At the bottom of the bag was a tiny, plain card, on which Jay had handwritten: “To my Billie, whose luscious Southern charm, jazz baby wit, and doe-eyed beauty make these ‘divas’ seem like little boys. From Fort Greene to London to wherever, forever, I love you. Jay.”

  Billie felt like her heart would leap out of her chest. She looked at him with absolute wonder, wanting to jump in his arms, to forget everything. But then she thought about her journal—how much longer was she going to obsess about other people’s larger-than-life stories? It was time for her to create her own. She had to stay strong.

  “I…I don’t know what to say. This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

  “Say you won’t go.”

  “I have to.”

  “Please stay with me,” he said, his black eyes gazing intensely into hers. “Please. I’ll do anything you want.”

  “This isn’t fair. Don’t do this now.”

  “Why?”

  “Shhh!”

  Jay lowered his voice to a movie-theater whisper. “Why?”

  “It’s too late, Jay. I’ve made my decision, and I’m leaving. Why are you making this harder for me than it already is?”

  “Because I can’t let you go. I can’t. You’re necessary to my existence. You’re necessary. I don’t know when or how or why it happened but it did, and it’s like I ain’t even got a choice. I love you, Billie, more than I have any right to. And I think you know that. But it’s true, I didn’t do it right. I know now that I didn’t.

  “Listen, excuses are played out, and I ain’t trying to waste your time. All I can tell you is this. I spent my whole life learning how to just get through it, you know, how to be numb to all the drama and turmoil and bullshit it brings. And then you fucked up my whole worldview. I realized how…good it could be. How bright it could be. It’s like, you…ever since I met you…” He paused, visibly struggling for a fitting metaphor. “This month with you, it’s been like living in the colorized part of The Wizard of Oz. No, listen. Everything was so dreary, so black and white, and then you came along—outta nowhere—and you brought yellow brick roads and the Lollipop Guild and jolly, dancing midgets with you. You’re my Glinda the Good Witch.

  “And I know that I hurt you. I was a selfish motherfucker. Believe me, I know this now. I’m choking on it. But, Billie, I’ve only been sure about one thing in this world, and it’s that people leave. They fucking up and disappear. So I learned to play my cards close. But here you are, and all that don’t mean shit. Because whether it’s safe or not, you’re mine. That’s all there is to it. I don’t want you to go, but if you have to, I’ll wait for you. Just tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you’ll take me back.”

  Jay stopped talking and stared at Billie expectantly. He’d never said anything like that to anyone. Later, he’d suffer mild embarrassment for pouring out his soul like that—and for the Wizard of Oz thing—but for now, he was beyond feeling self-conscious. He needed her back.

  Billie’s eyes welled up with tears. She couldn’t speak for a while, or even look at him. More than anything, she wanted to go to him, kiss him, hold him, tell him how much she loved him and how it was killing her. She didn’t. Finally, she got up the courage to say what she knew she had to say.

  “Jay, I can’t be with you,” she whispered, barely audible. Tears streamed down her face. “I’m going to London. I’m sorry, but it’s just something I have to do. It’s just…We can’t happen.”

  He caught Billie’s gaze, and wouldn’t let it waver. He saw a different truth there. But he couldn’t force her to change her mind. With a sigh, he stood up to leave. He leaned forward, kissed her cheek, and said, “I love you anyway.” And then he was gone.

  And Billie collapsed onto her chair in a paroxysm of tears.

  Immediately, Paige burst into her cubicle. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  “What?” Billie said, wiping her cheeks. “What are you talking about? Paige, why are you crying?”

  “Why is Sandy Pants crying? Why is Mare Bear crying? Why are you crying?” Billie peered over the partition and saw that, indeed, the girls were sobbing. Paige continued yelling at her. “I’m crying because I’m moved! How can you let that man walk out the door?”

  “What do you mean? Because he’s not right for me. You saw how miserable he made me. Hello? You were there at our hideous dinner! He’s…he’s inconsiderate, and selfish, and—”

  “Oh, who the fuck cares?” Paige waived Billie away. “Everybody makes mistakes, Billie. You guys are like nine years old. You’ll make mistakes, too. Listen to me, Pony. I was wrong. He’s not like Sting. He loves you so much. You only get love like that once, maybe twice in your life.”

  “Paige, but what about London!” Billie was caught in the cross-fire of a thousand conflicting emotions. “I mean, this is huge for my career. And I just got that great Union Jack bag. I can’t turn my back on all that for a man.”

  “You would if you had some sense,” Paige said, trying to regain her composure. She shook her head, clearly attempting to stop crying, but the tears kept coming. “I was in love only one time in my life. So in love. My story is different than yours, but the moral still holds. Long story short: I was about your age. His name was Tony, and my father wouldn’t let me marry him because he didn’t have any money. Well, he wasn’t poor—he owned a nightclub—but his family had mob connections, and it just wasn’t our scene. The point is, my father didn’t approve. If I married him, I would’ve gotten cut off without a cent. So I married my first husband to forget about him. It seemed like the proper thing to do at the time. He worked with my father, he was a trust fund baby like me. It looked great on paper. But I was miserable. Secretly, I kept seeing Tony. And I got pregnant. Oh, it was dreadful. I decided to give up the baby. And the week after the operation…he died in a freak accident during that huge blackout in ’seventy-seven.”

  “A freak accident?”

  “Well, one could call being stabbed fourteen times by a member of a rival family a freak accident. Anyway, my whole life I’ve wished I’d kept his baby. I’ve always wondered if he’d be alive now if we’d stayed together. Soon after, I divorced my first husband and kept marrying other men to forget Tony and the whole thing. Never worked.

  “The point is, Chicken, you only live once. Take it from me, regrets are a bitch. To hell with what seems right. Go ahead, turn your life upside down for your man. Fight for him. You don’t want to end up like me.”

  Billie stared at Paige, her hardened, jaded personality finally starting to make sense. “Paige, I had no idea.”

  “It’s ancient history, whatever,” she said. “Another thing, if your thong’s in a knot about losing the director position, get over it. This is what I was going to tell you at Nobu, but then you were clearly so upset it just didn’t seem appropriate. Mario and I have decided that, within the year, we’re going to move to Tuscany and live in the villa, full-time.”

  Billie’s eyes widened.

  “And, it goes without saying, you’ll be promoted to beauty director.”

  Billie’s jaw dropped.

  “So you can either go to London and come back when I call, or stay and wait it out. Either way, you’ll end up beauty director. So go get your man, Billie Putty.”

  Without saying a word, Billie sprinted down the hall to the elevator bank, but he was gone. She pressed the down button, praying for it to hurry, then hopped on. Once on the main floor, she raced out into the huge lobby, searching frantically for him. “Please still be here, please still be here,” she cha
nted under her breath, shimmying through the turnstile and out the door.

  He was gone.

  “Shit!” Billie wailed, and frantically looked up and down the street for signs of Jay. Nothing. She hung a right and ran up the sidewalk to the corner of Forty-second and Sixth Avenue. She stopped at a souvlaki stand and tapped the sweating operator.

  “Excuse me, sir?” she asked breathlessly.

  “What you need, pretty lady?”

  “H-have you seen a guy…I’m looking for a guy…”

  “Want souvlaki?”

  “No, uh, no thank you. Did a tall guy, wearing a jersey, about six-one…did he walk by here?”

  “Of what team player is the jersey?”

  “What? Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know sports.” Upset and distracted, she rubbed her temples and looked up and down Sixth Avenue. She couldn’t let him get away. Maybe he went in the other direction, toward Times Square. Maybe the pretzel-and-hot-dog man would know. Then it hit her. Hot dogs. Nathan’s. There was a Nathan’s Hot Dogs in the middle of Times Square. It would be very Jay to be nursing his sorrows with a Nathan’s hot dog. That is, if he was even feeling sorrowful. Maybe after he left, he’d decided he was over her. Oh my God!

  Billie turned on her considerable heel and sprinted back down Forty-second Street and made a left on tourist-congested Broadway. There was Nathan’s, on the other side of the street, shining like a neon North Star. Narrowly avoiding sending a kindergarten field trip sprawling, Billie managed to make it to the median strip halfway across the street before the light changed.

  Just then, Jay walked out of the hot dog chain, looking defeated and stunned and sad.

  “Jay!” she called out.

  He looked up and smiled, like he knew she’d come after him the whole time. She smiled back. They stood there, hearts pounding, staring at each other for what felt like ages. Then the light changed, and she ran toward him, jumping into his arms, and he hugged her so tight she thought she would break. They kissed each other like it had been ages, desperately happy to be this close again.

  “What changed your mind?” Jay asked, when they finally came up for air.