“We have to go forward. She’d want us to do that.”
“But a contest to replace a woman who might be dead, Bobby?”
The ocean between Santa Barbara and the Channel Islands never looked as luxuriant, never felt as endless. Ellen Homer had tried to invite herself along. Now Lucas wondered if he should have included her. Somehow, he couldn’t picture Ellen’s perfect little black-and-white awning jacket awash with seawater. More than that, he needed to have a heart-to-heart with his boss.
Bobby W tried to stand, and the moment he did, a wave hit and he crashed back into his seat. He slammed his hand over his glass just in time.
“Bobby?”
“Keep the fuck away from me.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“I don’t need help.” He pulled himself to his feet, and Lucas forced himself to stay put.
“Talk to me,” he said.
“I’m talking.”
“Then tell me how to explain to the media that we’re replacing Julie less than a week after she disappeared.”
“We’re not replacing her. We’re enhancing her. Tell them that.”
“Enhancingis a euphemism,” Lucas said. “The media will know that.”
“Euphemism, huh?” His eyes, the part of him that had stayed miraculously young, lit from within. “That’s why I have a smart, well-educated man such as yourself working for me, so that you can separate the euphemisms from the bullshit.”
With that, Bobby navigated his way to the galley, where he kept his Killer Body supplements. His gait was stiff. Lucas winced in sympathy. Stubborn old bastard, but who could judge him? How easy is it for any man, especially one who has beena fitness legend, to admit to himself that walking would be less painful if he used a cane?
“Great stuff.” Bobby began counting out the tablets and gel caps. “If you can’t live longer, you can still live better. Are you taking yours?”
“Whenever I remember.”
“Not good enough.” The old lion’s roar, familiar from all of those television commercials, was only slightly diluted by age and the sounds of the sea. “I don’t have to tell you that good health should be your number-one priority.”
“I know.” He sighed. “So, what shall we tell the media, Bobby?”
“The truth.” He looked up from the pills he was shaking into his palm, as if to say he was insulted to be asked.
“Which is?”
“That we’re looking for a second spokesmodel to enhance, or whatever you want to call it, Julie’s efforts in our weight-loss clinics. Someone to represent all we hope to achieve with the Ass Blaster.” Bobby W gave him a look of disappointment, his eyes glistening.
“Why don’t you just hire Rochelle and get it over with?”
“You don’t have any idea why I’m really doing this, do you?”
“Apparently, I don’t, so why don’t you tell me?”
“Friday, my house.” It was the voice he used when Lucas had gone too far, a voice he didn’t use on anyone else, because when anyone else went too far, he simply fired them.
“Friday,” he repeated. Then he placed the pills in his mouth and swallowed them with his bourbon and water.
FOUR
Gabriella
The princess always took the high road. It wasn’t easy, but in matters of character, one had no choice.
