No Ordinary Love (44 page)

“What does Mr. Vance do?” Trina asked.

“He’s an executive for the Gap,” Diane said.

Tony blinked. “The Gap owns Banana Republic. I wear Banana Republic clothes. I am wearing them right now.”

And Tony is a celebrity . . .
“Um, I need to use the bathroom.”

Jackie directed her to a bathroom off the kitchen.

Once in the half bathroom, which was three times the size of her full bathroom, Trina redialed Mr. Vance and kept the speaker off.

“Mr. Vance, this is Trina Woods.”

“That was quick,” Mr. Vance said. “Do you have another more serious offer?”

“I do,” Trina said. “But first I have a question. How is Banana Republic doing, Mr. Vance?”

“What does this have to do with buying my house?” Mr. Vance asked.

Maybe everything.
“Tony loves wearing Banana Republic clothing,” Trina said. “In fact, in every video you’ve seen him in he’s wearing
your
clothes, so to speak. I don’t know a thing about advertising, but I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt if you had someone as handsome as Tony is to wear your brand. Imagine a commercial with him playing the piano in your pants.”
That didn’t sound right at all!

“What are you proposing?” Mr. Vance asked.

“If you sell your house to us for less than ten million,” Trina said, “I’m sure I can convince Tony to wear Banana Republic exclusively in whatever he does. He may even wear Gap clothes.”
And you may only have to pay him a dollar.
“I know he will continue to perform at Johnny Foley’s. And who knows? He might even play at bigger places in the future.”

“He’s quite a showman,” Mr. Vance said. “He would sell out any venue on the planet right now. Would you be interested as well?”

Trina blinked. “In doing what?”

“In wearing Banana Republic or Gap clothing,” Mr. Vance said.

“Me?”
He’s not serious.

“When Tony lifted you onto the piano at Johnny Foley’s,” Mr. Vance said, “I said to myself, ‘Now
there’s
an advertisement.’ You had so much joy and wonder in your eyes. You two make a visually arresting couple. Have you ever worn Banana Republic tops or dresses?”

“No,” Trina said, “but I’m not exactly the type, I mean, you had Arlenis Sosa modeling for you a few years back, and she’s tall, bronzed, and gorgeous.”

“Our Banana Republic sales have declined over the last few years,” Mr. Vance said. “I’ve been telling our marketing department that we need some fresh faces, some real people to be in our ads to give that brand a boost. And here you both are. Would you be willing to join Tony in a future ad campaign?”

“Mr. Vance, I’ll be honest,” Trina said. “I have never been able to afford Banana Republic clothing. I’ve been wearing nurse’s scrubs for the last ten years. And I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable—”

“Nine million five and you both have to model for us,” Mr. Vance interrupted. “Print, Internet, catalog, television. Is it a deal?”

Trina swallowed hard. “Wow. Are you sure?”

“I am,” Mr. Vance said. “I have a great feeling about this.”

“In that case, sure.” Trina looked at her “fresh face” in the mirror.
You aren’t half bad looking, old lady.
“Mr. Vance, I’m in one of your bathrooms making this call, so Tony doesn’t know I’m talking to you. Could you act as if Tony convinced you to go nine million five?”

“I would be delighted,” Mr. Vance said.

“Thank you so much,” Trina said. “I’ll have him call you back.”

“I’ll be waiting for his call,” Mr. Vance said.

“Bye.”
I can’t believe it! From almost fired nurse to reinstated nurse to only nurse at a new Asperger’s center to Banana Republic model in less than six hours. And in a few moments, Tony is going to buy me
this
house!

Trina left the bathroom on shaky legs and handed the phone to Tony. “Do you think we should try again?”

“You said we would talk about it,” Tony said.

“We don’t need to talk about it,” Trina said. “I was using an old bargaining technique. Sometimes you have to walk away from the table to get what you want.”

Tony blinked. He looked at several side tables flanking a couch.

“The
bargaining
table,” Trina said.

“We were on the phone,” Tony said. “We were not at a table.”

“Let me give you another example,” Trina said. “When I bought my first car, I walked away from the salesman four times until he quoted me a price I could afford. I got the price to drop each time by walking away. Do you understand?”

“No,” Tony said.

How can I make this clearer to him?
“Mr. Vance wants to sell this house for ten million dollars. He already dropped the price three hundred thousand dollars. We have offered him eight million dollars, and now he’s thinking about our offer because we stopped talking to him.”

Tony nodded. “So the more we do not talk to him, the lower the price will go.”

Something like that.
“Right.”

“If we do not talk to him for a week,” Tony said, “the price will drop even more.”

I really screwed up that one.
“But someone else may give him an offer he likes by then. Why don’t you call him now to see if he has reconsidered?”

“I will call him.” He hit the redial button. “Mr. Vance, this is Tony Santangelo.”

“Put it on speaker, please,” Trina whispered.

Tony pressed the speaker button.

“I have been hoping you’d call, Tony,” Mr. Vance said. “I have thought about your offer, and I am giving you a counteroffer of nine million nine.”

Tony smiled. “And I will pay you . . . eight million five.”

“Nine million eight,” Mr. Vance said.

“Eight million nine,” Tony said.

“Nine million seven,” Mr. Vance said.

Tony started to dance. “Nine million . . . three.”

“Nine million five and that’s my final offer,” Mr. Vance said. “I won’t go any lower.”

“He said nine million five, Trina,” Tony said.

“Take the offer,” Trina whispered.

Tony stopped dancing. “We will buy your house for nine million five, Mr. Vance.”

“I’ll have my lawyer contact your lawyer, Mr. Santangelo,” Mr. Vance said. “Just give me your lawyer’s name, and we’ll get the paperwork started.”

“His name is Matthew McConnell,” Tony said. “He works at Angela’s Sweet Treats and Coffee in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York, USA. When can we move in?”

“I’m certain you’ll be in your new home by the end of the month or by the first week in February at the latest,” Mr. Vance said. “Congratulations, Mr. Santangelo.”

“Thank you,” Tony said.

“Could you put Jackie or Diane on the phone for me please?” Mr. Vance asked.

Tony handed the phone to Jackie, and she and Diane walked out to the deck off the kitchen.

Trina hugged him. “Thank you, Tony!”

“We must go celebrate,” Tony said.

“We just ate,” Trina said. “I couldn’t eat another thing.”

“We will ride the cable cars wherever they take us,” Tony said. “There are places in San Francisco I have not seen yet. I want to know my new city.”

“Sure,” Trina said. “That would be wonderful.”

Jackie and Diane scurried up to them in the foyer. “There are
hundreds
of reporters outside the gate.” Jackie handed Tony his phone. “
Hundreds.
”

“Is there another way out of here?” Trina asked.

Tony took Trina’s hand. “Let us go talk to them.”

“I thought you wanted to celebrate,” Trina said.

“We will celebrate,” Tony said. “But first we have to tell them the good news.”

As soon as Tony and Trina hit the brick walk to the gate, the noise level increased and lights blinded them.

“Trina, how does it feel to be reinstated?”

“Did you just buy this house, Tony?”

“How much did you pay?”

“Are you getting married?”

“What role will each of you have in the new Asperger’s center?”

“Is it true your supervisor has been fired?”

“Are the allegations of ‘colorism’ at Saint Francis true?”

“Why did you avoid us back at the hospital?”

Trina huddled behind Tony’s back. “What are we going to do?”

Tony smiled. “We are going to give them something to look at.” Tony opened the gate. “Come inside and see our new home.”

While most of the media swarmed the house, Tony and Trina sat in one of the two lower-level family rooms and answered questions.

“Does this mean you’ll be living in San Francisco from now on?”

“Yes,” Tony said.

“What about Brooklyn?”

“Brooklyn will still be there,” Tony said. “We will visit Brooklyn often.” He took out his phone. “Oh, I must tell Angelo and Aika the good news.” He pressed the number one. “Angelo, I have just bought a house for Trina. . . . It is almost as big as the Castle.... The reporters are here asking me and Trina questions.... I let them in.... There was not enough room on the sidewalk.... They do not scare me.” He smiled. “I will have Trina type Naomi’s songs for you tonight.... I will call you later when we get back to Trina’s apartment. Bye.”

After the last reporter left their future home
three
hours later, Trina and Tony took a taxi back to her apartment, where Tony read off the lyrics to eight songs while Trina typed them.

“How does Naomi know the tune to each song?” Trina asked.

“I make a CD for her in my music studio,” Tony said.

“And how are you going to do that here?” Trina asked.

Tony blinked. “I do not know.”

“Maybe you can record the tunes at Johnny Foley’s,” Trina said.

“Yes,” Tony said. “I can do them all live tonight.” He called Angelo. “Trina and I are done with the lyrics.”

Trina turned on the speaker. “And they’re great, Angelo.”

“How many?” Angelo asked.

“Eight,” Tony said.

“That’s all?” Angelo asked. “You were writing so many.”

“That is all I want to give her,” Tony said. “I am keeping some for myself.”

“You don’t sing,” Angelo said.

“I will keep them instrumental then,” Tony said.

“Or rap them like you did my song the other night,” Trina said. “How many songs do you have in your head that could be only instrumental?”

Tony smiled. “Too many.”

“Angelo, I think Tony needs to do a solo piano album,” Trina said. “A live solo album.”

“I could do that,” Tony said. “I could do it at Johnny Foley’s.”

“Tony,” Trina said, “you deserve a much bigger audience than that. And I’ve always wanted to see New York City.”

“Yeah, Tony,” Angelo said. “There are plenty of great venues here. How about the Brooklyn Academy of Music?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Carnegie Hall,” Trina said.

“I don’t know,” Angelo said. “They fill up their schedule at the Carnegie months and years in advance. Naomi had a tough time getting in there two years ago. Why not Madison Square Garden or the Barclay’s Center?”

“It must be free,” Tony said.

“You’re kidding, right?” Angelo said. “They’d sell out tickets in an hour at any venue if you were doing a live show.”

“It must be free,” Tony said. “It must be free and in Central Park like Elton John did. It must happen this summer.”

Trina gripped his hands. “That’s a great idea, Tony. Wow!”

“Just think of it,” Angelo said. “A half million people listening to you play live, and we’ll have to see if any of the networks will want to run with it, too. I have always dreamed of you doing something like that.”

“I will make your dream come true,” Tony said.

“I’ll make some calls and get the ball rolling,” Angelo said. “This is fantastic!”

“Is Aika there?” Tony asked.

“She’s at work,” Angelo said. “I’ll tell her the great news, though. Um, Tony, I need to speak to Trina privately.”

“Okay.”

Trina picked up the phone, turned off the speaker, and went into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“You two
have
to go to the Grammys,” Angelo said.

“We’ll be there,” Trina said. “Tony asked me to go.”

“He did?” Angelo asked.

“Yes,” Trina said. “Do you think he has a shot at winning?”

“I don’t know,” Angelo said. “He’s got some great competition this year. But anyway, they’re giving Tony a lifetime achievement award.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Don’t tell him, and make sure he wears a nice suit,” Angelo said. “He might not wear a tie, though. He hates ties.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Trina said.

“I need to speak to Tony privately now,” Angelo said. “If that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Trina asked.

“Well, now that you’re his manager and all,” Angelo said.

Is that what I’ve become?
“I’m not his manager,” Trina said. “Tony’s managing himself. I am giving the phone to Tony right now.” She put the phone in Tony’s hand. “Angelo wants to talk to you in secret.”

“Oh.” Tony put the phone to his ear. “Hello, Angelo. . . I do not know. . . . Yes. . . . No, they do not. Great minds are great because they do
not
think alike.... I will. . . . I am not sad. . . . Okay. . . . I will try. . . . Good-bye.” He turned off the phone. “Angelo asked Aika to marry him.”

So much for the secret, but why would Angelo want to keep that information from me?
“What’d Aika say?”

“I was not there,” Tony said.

“Did she say yes?” Trina asked.

“I do not know,” Tony said. “I was not there.”

I keep forgetting to ask direct, yes-or-no-type questions.
“Tony, are they getting married?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s great news,” Trina said. “Why didn’t he want me to hear about it?”

“You have heard about it,” Tony said.

“You said you weren’t sad,” Trina said. “Sad about what?”

“Angelo thought I would be sad,” Tony said. “I am not sad they are getting married. Angelo wants me to be the best man.”

“You are the best man,” Trina said.

“The man who is getting married should be the best man,” Tony said. “Angelo should be the best man, not me. I am not marrying Aika.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense,” Trina said. “Who are you marrying?”