Death On the Dlist (2010) (22 page)

CASSIE LAKE WAS IN TOWN. THE SINGING STAR HAD SHOT TO STARDOM
as a young girl singing with her sisters and brother. The siblings were talented all right, but there was no doubt she was the star. With long frosty hair tumbling over her shoulders, she had a beautiful voice and a squeaky-clean reputation as a devout Catholic. She was a teetotaler who married young and had four children almost immediately, one after the next.

Then, of course, came the eventual divorce, weight gain, admissions to depression and secret drinking in the linen closet of her Miami mansion. She was now on the wagon, and an AA advocate, and about to kick off a Vegas show that would reunite her with her two sisters and brother on the stage again after nearly fifteen years.

She flew into the city solely to perform with the Rockettes in their Christmas Spectacular at Radio City Music Hall and absolutely
nothing would do
but for Tony Russo to get her booked on
The
Harry Todd Show
while she was here in town. That way, they wouldn’t even have to pay for a flight!

He planned to pitch it to her as a way to pump up sales for her new book on getting clean and sober. He’d also promised she could relentlessly plug her singing performance with the Rockettes and her new Vegas act set to kick off in the New Year.

The morning shows would probably get her first; they always did because of their huge numbers. But Tony could probably convince her to do
Harry
. His numbers were right up there and with
Harry
, it would be Cassie Lake for the hour! Not the three or four minutes the morning shows could offer between hair and makeup segments, and news briefs glossing over pain and suffering around the world.

But, of course, what would
really
happen once she got on the show, is that Harry would ask her all about her alcohol and drug dependency, her recent breakdown over her divorce, and the sixty pounds she managed to pack on in one year.

Tony could hardly wait.

Tony was crouched down against the cold, waiting outside Radio City Music Hall in order to catch her when she came in to practice. The grandeur of the building was totally lost on him, but every single thing about it was larger than life. It was one of the largest indoor theaters in the world, and the marquee alone covered a city block. The walls and ceiling were sweeping arches, with the Great Stage mounted on hydraulic elevators for special effects. A fourth elevator raised the orchestra, and a shimmering gold stage curtain teamed with the “Mighty Wurlitzer” organ to thrill audiences. Spiraling fountains of water, clouds, fog, even thunder, magically appeared on stage thanks to an elaborate system sourcing steam from a special Con Edison plant.

None of it meant a thing to Tony Russo. He had to take off his winter gloves and reach deep into his coat pocket every time his cell buzzed, which was constantly. Sookie was dialing his cell phone every few minutes to find out if he’d made contact with Cassie yet.

He looked across the street at a little Greek diner, where he saw people scurrying in and out with steaming cups of coffee. Usually, he’d only drink Starbucks, a grande half-caf, dry, skim cappuccino with extra foam, to be specific, but under these circumstances, he’d take anything.

If Russo had a dime for every black limo that drove past Radio City, he’d be a millionaire. Every time one of the cars barely slowed down, he jumped up out of the crouch position and lurched toward it in his attempt to get to Cassie before her driver got around the car to open her door. She’d of course be on the curb side of the car with the driver on the opposite side. So, bottom line, Tony would definitely have time on his side,
if
and only if he spotted her car in time.

After texting Sookie for the millionth time that he was in fact in position to catch Lake, the moment came. A white stretch with heavily darkened windows pulled up. As its wheels grazed the curb, his hackles raised and a tingle went down his body. He was a booker to the core . . . He knew deep in his gut. It was her.

Tony made a lunge for it and just as he hoped, the driver had unlocked the back doors from the fingertip controls on the driver’s arm-side panel before he got out of the car to walk around and open the door for his passenger. In the thirty seconds it took the guy to open his door, put his feet on the pavement, close his door, and make his way around to her door, Tony had already opened the door and handed her a bouquet of two dozen yellow roses, her favorite.

He did his research.

With the other hand, and flashing his most sincere smile, Tony whipped open an umbrella to hold over her head.

“Miss Lake, Tony Russo, chief booker for
The
Harry Todd Show
. I’m such a huge fan, all the way back to the old days and
The
Lake Family Hour.
I just had to deliver these flowers myself. I always loved you in those bell-bottoms, and remember that furry vest you wore that time? Can I get you some Throat Coat tea? I know it’s your favorite . . . I just happened to bring a box of it with me just in case this cold weather bothered your throat . . .”

How he got it all out in one gulp was a mystery. He had his GNE ID security badge hanging around his neck and on prominent display so she would see he was legit and wouldn’t be scared away.

Tony held out his hand just as the driver made it around to the back edge of the stretch, clearly intent on throwing his chubby little body to the curb. He could do it, too. The driver was a hulk. Tony concentrated on Cassie’s face and forced himself to keep smiling and not turn away from her to look at the burly man to his left.

Just as the driver grabbed Tony by his upper left arm, Cassie reached up from the depths of the cushioned limo seat and took Tony’s right hand.

“You, Mr. Russo, are a saint. And yes, I’d
love
some Throat Coat. I can’t believe you remember that furry vest! And I adore Harry’s show! I haven’t seen him since his big birthday bash . . . How
is
he?”

He had her.

Taking her hand and tucking it into his left elbow, he held the umbrella over her head as they made it into Radio City. Entering through the front doors, Tony adroitly closed up the umbrella and quickly but naturally slipped his elbow back in its earlier position entwined with Cassie’s elbow. Winding through the twists and turns of RCMH, they made it down a long hallway back to Cassie’s dressing room. She opened the door with a key and clicked on all the lights. It was a warm and cozy room, made attractive by rose-colored walls and floor lamps on either side of a sofa pushed against the longest wall of the room.

As if he had been working out of the dressing room for months, Tony immediately made his way across the room, opened a cabinet over a tiny microwave, and pulled down two coffee mugs, which he then filled with spring water from a jug dispenser standing in the corner of the room. Dunking two tea bags of Throat Coat into the cups, he set the microwave and turned back to Cassie, who was sitting in a chair before her stage mirror, light bulbs surrounding it now turned on.

“Light cream and one sugar as I recall?” Tony Russo was pretty good at what he did. That would be sucking up, of course. He kept every known detail about anyone who had ever appeared on
The
Harry Todd Show
in his desktop. He could access most of the desk-top information from his BlackBerry; hence, he knew exactly how Cassie Lake took her tea the last time she did
The
Harry Todd Show
, which was precisely four years and two months before. He’d checked it that morning before he set out for RCMH and then checked it again as he sat crouched, waiting in the snow under the marquee outside the building.

Stirring with a plastic spoon he found in a plastic cup beside the microwave, he brought over the tea and set it down in front of her.

“Hey! Even under these lights and no makeup, you look great!”

She smiled at him. It was genuine. Of all the celebs that had ever been on
The
Harry Todd Show
, she had been one of the most real, the most sincere. All the good works, the family values, all the talk of God in Heaven and clean living, she really meant it. Falling off the wagon was a huge personal defeat for her.

Lake was for real.

Tony almost hated to set her up for the show.

“Cassie, you
have
to come on with Harry to push your book! It’s
fantastic
!
I loved it!
It’s going to help so many people!” His voice took on its usual whining, pleading tone. He looked straight into the mirror and into her eyes.

It was truly incredible that he could look so sincere, even knowing Harry would likely bring up all the sordid details of her divorce, her bulimia, her drinking problem, and of course, suggest she had been a hypocrite preaching family values all those years before all the time she spent alone with a bottle of Scotch in the linen closet came to light.

“Tony Russo, you know you make it really hard to say no . . . but with my schedule here . . . you know . . . the Radio City show, the book signings . . .”

“Then, don’t! Don’t say no! We’ll tape around your schedule! Whatever you want! And Harry would
love
to bring out a baby grand and have you sing at the end of the show . . . whatever you want! The viewers will
love it
and the book will sell like hotcakes!”

“It would mean a lot to me . . . Harry’s show really sells the books . . .”

“That’s exactly right! It does! Showcasing your book on Harry’s show could put you back on the
New York Times
top ten list! Wouldn’t that be great?”

“It really would . . .”

“Oh yes! I forgot to ask you! How are the children? They’re growing so much! Any of them following in Mommy’s footsteps? Anybody want to be a singer? Please tell me you have pictures with you!” Tony really was shameless.

“I do, as a matter of fact! I carry a little album in my makeup suitcase! Let’s sit on the sofa and go through them. Want some more hot tea?”

“I’d love some!”

Tony Russo was in Heaven. Snuggled together on the sofa, the two drank hot Throat Coat while Tony listened to stories about each of her four children, their braces, their schools, their manners good and bad, how they’d handled the divorce . . . by the time they’d gone through the huge binder of photos . . . Cassie Lake’s appearance on
The
Harry Todd Show
was a lock.

It was like taking candy . . . from a baby. He couldn’t wait to call Sookie.

IT WENT GREAT!”

“How can you
say that
?” Cassie Lake was in tears as she left the studio.

Tony was right beside her, his arm again entwined in hers. Actually, it hadn’t been bad at all, since Harry was, basically, in his starstruck, sucking-up mode.

But the few questions he’d read off his yellow cue cards regarding her divorce, her admitted alcoholism, and her eating disorder had really upset her. She’d addressed it all in her book, but talking about it unnerved her. It wasn’t until Harry read one of the last questions about how the divorce devastated her two-year-old that she really broke down.

Tony almost felt bad.

“You
emoted
!
There’s nothing wrong with that! America will love you for it!”

“I thought we were just going to talk about the Radio City show and the book . . . I didn’t think it would be so . . .
personal.
I mean the questions about my relationship with my ex-husband were bad enough, but the ones about the
children
. . .” Cassie couldn’t finish her sentence for sobbing.

Tony offered Kleenex.

“Well, I think America is going to love you even more for this interview. And the photos you shared with us, the ones from the photo album . . . They were just
so wonderful
!”

“You know that’s the first time I’ve ever let them all be pictured on TV . . .”

“And we are so grateful!”

Tony walked her all the way to the limo, helped her in, handed her a wad of Kleenex, and slammed the door. He waved half-heartedly at the car as it eased away from the curb and into traffic. Whew. That was done. The taping was over, and Lake was safely, albeit in tears, headed to LaGuardia for the next outbound flight to L.A., and the show was in the can. And it would be a hit . . . the numbers would be huge!

Walking back through GNE’s thick glass doors, he felt a presence fall in step with him. It was Sookie. She’d actually driven to meet with Lake beforehand and watch the taping from the control room.

“Brilliant!
Brilliant!
” I can’t believe you got her! And she started crying! She could hardly make it through that horrible song you got her to sing! Did you write up Harry’s cue cards? I know he didn’t think of those questions himself! And the photos!!! How’d you
ever
get them? She never shows her kids on air!”

“I learned it all from you, Sookie! All from you! Want to have lunch?”

He almost hated to ask. Every lunch in the city was followed by a shopping spree of some sort and Tony would end up being bullied by Sookie into buying her things again.

“No . . . I can’t. I’m super-pressed for time.”

“You’re coming back for the Cassie Lake edits?”

“No way. You’ll have to handle it. I’ve got an appointment I can’t rearrange. It’ll go into the evening and I doubt I’ll be on cell. Can’t you handle it on your own? Oh, and did you pick up that stuff for me from the drugstore?”

“Sure did!” Tony had worked all his life to be in the world of TV. It had been his dream since he was a little boy watching sitcoms alone on the floor of his family’s den. TV was wonderful, magical . . . a whole different world from the one he lived in. Being part of it made him feel wonderful, too. And if he had to run errands and pick up laundry and get Sookie’s lotions and potions at the drugstore . . . so be it. He never complained.

“I have the receipt.” He knew she wouldn’t expect him to expense it.

“Oh, you cover it, I don’t have any cash. Anyway, Cassie Lake,
what a get!
It’ll go straight on the air!”

Tony walked her all the way to the glass doors and then out onto the sidewalk. He looked around for her usual driver in a sea of black limos, but then, a candy-apple-red Porsche Boxster Spyder pulled up to the curb. At the wheel was defense attorney Derek Jacobs.

“Hi, Sookie! You look fabulous today! Nobody wears a mini-skirt like Sookie Downs. I’ve said it a million times.” Charm just oozed out of Jacobs.

“Hi, Tony.” Jacobs added it as an afterthought, and the effect wasn’t lost on Tony Russo.

Sookie’s face visibly brightened. “Hi, Derek! What are you doing at GNE?”

“I had a meeting around the corner. Want a ride?”

“Great!”

“Hop in.”

The two were off in a moment and Tony Russo watched as the Porsche’s red taillights disappeared around the corner. The celebration over the Cassie Lake booking certainly was short-lived.

But, hey, what was Tony expecting? A medal? Sookie was always all about the next show. In a couple of days, she’d forget all about how he was hunched down in the snow for hours waiting for Lake to show up. She’d forget all about how he had to sweet-talk her and hold her hand and look at countless family photos of her kids crammed into a thick album . . . how he sought out, bought, and made her special Throat Coat tea. It would just be another show, another rating.

Tony’s BlackBerry buzzed. It was an e-mail alert from the show’s editorial producer. A guy had just thrown battery acid onto his ex inside a cell phone store in New Jersey. A show producer was on her way to the hospital.

His heart raced and he nearly clicked his heels together as he practically ran back inside and headed for the elevators.