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On the other side of the dressing room, I can hear Ty on the phone. Okay, Gwen, do not listen. Do not. Although if you do listen, you might hear something that’ll come in handy when you need it.
So, yeah, I’m listening.
“It didn’t work. I’ll be stuck here the entire time.” Pause. “Well, that’s certainly not the news I was hoping for, but it’s not worst-case scenario.”
Hmm… I wonder what the worst-case scenario is?
“I’ll call her right now. What did you send her?” Pause. “Really?” Pause. “No, that’s great. Very … out-of-the-box. I’m sure she’ll love that.” Pause. “Thanks, Donna. I have no idea when I’ll be able to reach you again, but I’ll?—”
“How’s it going in there?” Marisol asks, interrupting my eavesdropping.
“Great. I could use a bigger size in the jeans, if you’ve got them.”
She pulls the curtain to the side a bit and pokes her head in. “Okay. I’ll be right back. But first, you need a chullo and a bowler. The chullo will keep your ears warm and the bowler will keep you from getting wrinkles.” She thrusts several hats at me. The chullos are like wool beanies with ear flaps and pompoms. The bowlers, are … well, bowler hats, which are apparently as popular with people in the Andes as they were with city gents in the late 1800s. No way am I buying two hats for a five day trip.
I take them and thank Marisol, wanting her to leave because I can hear Ty on another call. “Muffy, I’m sorry I missed you. I’m in the most beautiful little village in the Andes right now. A place that Richard loved. I’m afraid I won’t be able to get in touch with you over the next couple of days, but I hope you’ll enjoy your time with Bobbie Brown. According to my assistant, she’s the makeup artists to the stars. I hope our deal is still on. As I’ve told you, I’ve been wanting to buy?—”
“Here are your jeans!”
Dammit. “Thank you,” I whisper, taking them from her.
“…a little kid with big dreams. No one will do a better job of looking after the club than I will. And that’s a promise. I’ll try you again as soon as I can get to a phone. In the meantime, if you’re not happy with our agreement, I hope you’ll give me a chance to make it right, without involving other people. Take care. Talk to you soon.”
Huh. A club? His big business deal that is going to cost in the billions is some sort of club? What the hell? Also, that just doesn’t help me at all.
I tug off the tight jeans and try on the other pair. Much better. Pulling a poncho with stripes in various shades of red over my head, I then look at myself in the mirror. Not half bad. Now I add the bowler hat. Oh, wow. Who is this bold woman?
Ty places another call. “Hey, Michael.”
Oh, Michael! Who’s Michael?
“It’s been a little strange.” Pause. “Unpredictable. I’m actually in a tiny village in the Sacred Valley.” Pause. “That’s right, Michael. Did you see that on one of your documentaries?” Pause. “Of course, I remember now. What did you and Greta do today?”
Long pause while I pull my poncho off my head and try on the cargo pants.
“Did it help?” Ty asks. Then he says, “I’m glad you had fun. What was your favorite part?” He waits for an answer, then I hear him say, “The jellyfish really are the best thing there, aren’t they?”
He chuckles a little, and it’s a deep, low sound that I kind of don’t hate. “Right, I remember you told me that. Just jellies.”
Another pause, then, “To be honest, I don’t know. Richard wanted everything to be a surprise.”
“A little, yeah, but don’t worry about me. The people running the trip are top notch professionals,” he says, pausing for a second, then adding, “Don’t worry, you know me. I can handle myself.”
I just bet he can handle himself.
“What are you having for supper?” he asks, sounding like he’s not ready to hang up just yet.
“Yum. I’m missing out.” Pause. “Greta’s the best.” Pause. “I love you too, Michael. Sleep well.”
He chuckles again. “Right. That’s what I meant. Good night.”
Okay, so now I feel totally guilty. Listening in on a business call that might help me save our team is one thing. Listening in on a personal call? That’s a whole different level of … wrong. Especially such a sweet call. But who the hell is Michael? Does he have a son no one knows about?
“How’s the shopping going?” Ty asks, his voice now coming from the front of the curtain.
I’m standing in just a poncho and hat, no pants, so I instinctively cover up my thighs with both hands, even though there really is no need. “Good. Having lots of luck.”
Marisol pokes her head in. “Are you ready to show your husband what you’re buying?” She glances down. “Where are your pants? Did they not fit?”
