A Life More Complete(27)
“We’re done. Interview over. Thank you.” I glare at the interviewer and back at Trini. Yanking her up from the chair with too much force, she follows me as I drag her behind. She’s laughing as she stalks through the studio. It’s the kind of laugh that screams unstable and crazy. Her eyes are wild and everyone near us disperses as I pull her toward the parking lot; only a select few remain to gawk or take pictures. All the while Trini is flipping off the cameras and swearing and I’m pretty sure she tried to take her shoe off and throw it at someone. The pictures will splatter the pages of every tabloid and newspaper from here to New York, the interview broadcast on repeat to be over analyzed and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it.
As soon as we hit the parking lot I drop her wrist and turn to face her. “I don’t know what is going on, but you need to get it together. Now!” She stops laughing and looks right through me. I grab her shoulders and shake her. “Seriously, what the hell is going on? Are you trying to ruin your career? Is this what you want? The world to think you’re crazy because you did a kick-ass job if that’s what you’re going for?”
She says nothing, just stares aimlessly and listlessly as her face takes on a gray cast. She turns away from me, vomits spectacularly on the asphalt and then climbs into the passenger side of my car. I run my hands over my face and sigh.
We pull up to the rehab center in Malibu after what feels like an eternity. The entire time the car is silent. I can’t bring myself to speak. I can only hope that this mess is over and she will receive the help she needs to overcome whatever it is she’s battling. I grab her bag from the trunk and walk with her to the entrance of the facility. She looks like the walking dead, her eyes are sunken in, her face is ashen, loose strands of her hair are stuck to her cheeks with vomit. I almost can’t look at her. A woman greets us at the door and takes Trini’s bag. This is as far as I can go.
“Trini?” She turns and looks at me as tears fall down her cheeks. Her eyelids are heavy and sagging. “Please know I love you. This will get better.” I hug her quickly and retreat to my car before my emotions can get involved.
For the first time in months I feel relief, it’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I can finally relax. There isn’t that constant worry, the wait that something awful has yet to come. It’s over and I pray it has ended for good.
I don’t even bother to go home. I know Ellie will be all over me for this. I’ll be lucky if I still have a job after what happened. I should’ve stopped the interview; really I should’ve never allowed her to do the interview. I knew she was unstable, but I had no idea how truly messed up she was. I feel personally responsible for what went down. It’s my job to protect her from media scrutiny and public meltdowns and I failed.
Ellie is on the phone when I reach the doorway to her office. She cranes her long polished index finger at me and silently calls me into her office. Without speaking she points to the red armless leather chair placed in front of her glass top desk. I do as I am told and sit. My mind races as I watch her twirl her hair around her finger and swivel back and forth in her high back black leather desk chair. I try to read her expression. I obsessively tap my fingers and watch her face turn from harsh to smiling and back to harsh again. Oh God, she’s going to fire me. When she finally hangs up the phone, I take a deep breath and prepare myself.
“What the hell happened?” Her voice is calmer than I expect.
“I take full responsibility for what happened. I never should have allowed her to do the interview. I knew she wasn’t well.”
“Did you know she was pregnant?” she asks with sincere concern.
“Yes, I knew. I just had no idea it had affected her this much.”
“Is she still pregnant?”
“No, I took her for an abortion back in August. Remember when I took a few days off?”
“That explains a lot.” Ellie runs her hand through her hair and leans back in her chair. “I don’t know what to say other than...” I cut her off quickly.
“Sorry, Ellie, but please don’t fire me. I had no idea it was going to turn out like this. I have always thought of Trini as a friend, not a client, but I recently decided that I was going to keep my professional life separate from my personal life and I got wrapped up in doing what the media wanted and not what was best for Trini.” I exhale after my long-winded rant.
“Kristin, why would I fire you? You’ve been one the best employees I’ve ever had and it’s not because you make me a lot of money. The reason you’re so good at your job is because you allow your personal life to get involved. You know your clients better than they do and there’s a reason they’ve been with you for so long. You have a presence that’s unmatched by anyone in this office.” She pauses and rises from her desk. She joins me, sitting across from me; she takes my hand in hers. “I can’t imagine what you are going through or what you have been through with Trini. When you take on a young client like her it’s hard not to be involved in every aspect of her life. You’ve watched her grow up and I know you played an integral role in her becoming the person she is. There is good in her and it’s because of you.”