Thanksgiving and Christmas were harder for her, as it was the middle of their season and the ratings battles were always tough. But she went home then too, no matter what. She took two cell phones with her and her computer. She got e-mails on her BlackBerry and was in constant communication with her staff wherever she went. Tammy was the consummate professional, the archetypal female television executive. Her parents were proud of her but were worried about her health. It was impossible to be as stressed as she was, have as much responsibility as rested on her shoulders, and not wind up with health problems one day. Her mother kept begging her to slow down, while her father admired her openly for her huge success. Her sisters cheerfully said she was nuts, which she was to some degree. Tammy herself said you had to be crazy to work in television, which was why it suited her so well. And she was convinced that the only reason she survived it was because she had had a normal home life while growing up. It had been what most people dreamed of and never had. Loving parents who were deeply devoted to each other, who had been rock solid for their four girls and still were. She missed their happy home life sometimes. Her life had never seemed entirely complete since she left. And they were all so spread out now. Annie in Florence, Candy all over the world shooting layouts for magazines or doing runway shows in Paris, and Sabrina in New York. She missed them so much at times, and usually when she finally had a chance to call them late at night, the time difference was all wrong, so she e-mailed them instead. When they called her on her cell phone, when she was running from one meeting to another, or on the set, they could only exchange a few words. She was really looking forward to spending the weekend with them.
“Your car is downstairs, Tammy,” her assistant Hailey told her at twelve-forty, as she stuck her head in the door.
“Do you have the letters for me to sign?” Tammy asked, looking anxious.
“Sure do,” Hailey said, clutching a file to her chest, and then set it on Tammy's desk and handed her a pen. Tammy glanced at the letters briefly, and scribbled her signature at the bottom of each of them. At least now she could leave with a clear conscience. All the most important things had been done. She couldn't stand leaving for the weekend without clearing her desk, which was why she usually came in on Saturdays and often Sundays, and hardly ever went anywhere for the weekend.
She had a house in Beverly Hills, which she loved. She'd had it for three years and still hadn't finished it. She didn't want to hire a decorator and was determined to do it herself, but never had time. There were still boxes of china and decorative doodads that she hadn't bothered to unpack since she sold her last house. One day, she told herself and promised her parents, she was going to slow down, but not yet. This was the high point of her career, her show was hot, and if she lost the momentum now, maybe everything would go down the drain. And the truth was she loved her life just as it was, hectic, crazy, and out of control. She loved her house, her work, and her friends when she had time to see them, which was almost never, she was always too busy with the show. She loved living in Los Angeles, as much as Annie loved Florence, and Sabrina loved New York. The only one who didn't care where she lived was Candy, who was happy anywhere as long as she was staying in a five-star hotel. She was just as happy in Paris, Milan, or Tokyo as she was in her penthouse in New York. Tammy always said that Candy was a nomad at heart. The others were far more attached to the cities where they lived, and the place they had carved out for themselves in their own worlds.
Although Candy was only eight years younger than Tammy, she seemed like a baby. And their lives were so incredibly different. Candy's professional life was all about how beautiful she was-no matter how modest she was about it. Tammy's work was about how beautiful others were, and how smart she was, although she was an extremely attractive woman, but she never thought about it. She was too busy putting out fires to even think about her looks, which was why there hadn't been a serious man in her life for more than two years. She didn't have time for men, and rarely liked the ones who crossed her path. The men she met in show business were not the kind of men she wanted to be involved with. Most of them were flaky, self-centered, and so full of themselves. She often felt she was almost too old for them now. They preferred dating actresses, and most of the men who asked her out were married and more interested in cheating on their wives than in having a serious relationship with a single woman. She had no patience with the bullshit, the lies, the narcissists, and she certainly had no interest in being anyone's mistress. And the actors she met seemed like freaks to her. When she first came to L.A. and started working in the business, she had had a million dates, most of which had turned out badly or been disappointing for one reason or another. She had been set up on dozens of blind dates. Now, when she finally left the office, she was just as happy relaxing in her house with Juanita and decompressing from the insanity of her day. She didn't have the time or energy to spend bored to death with some loser at a fancy restaurant, while he explained to her how bad his marriage had been, how crazy his soon-to-be-ex-wife was, and how his papers were coming through any day. Healthy single guys were hard to come by, and at twenty-nine she was in no rush to get married. She was far more interested in her career. Her mother reminded her every year that time went by quickly, and one day it would be too late. Tammy didn't know if she believed her, but she wasn't worried about it yet. For now, she was on the fast track of Hollywood, and thoroughly enjoying it, even if she didn't have a social life or even a date. It was working for her.
At five minutes after one she grabbed Juanita and put her in her Birkin, grabbed a stack of files and her computer, and shoved them in her briefcase. Her assistant had already sent her suitcase to the car waiting downstairs. Tammy didn't need much for the weekend, mostly blue jeans and T-shirts, a white cotton skirt for her parents' party, and two pairs of high-heeled Louboutin espadrilles. She had a row of bangle bracelets on her arm, and despite her lack of effort in that department, she always looked stylish and casual. She was still young enough to get away with whatever she wore. Juanita looked around with interest from inside the purse, and shivered as Tammy flew out of the office with a wave at her assistant and got into the elevator. Two minutes later she was in the car, heading for LAX. She had time to make calls on her cell phone from the car, and was annoyed to find that others had left the office early and were heading out for the holiday weekend too. By the time they were halfway to the airport, there was nothing for her to do but put her head back against the seat and relax. She had brought work to do on the flight. She just hoped she didn't have a talker sitting next to her.
Her mother always reminded her that she might meet the man of her dreams on a plane. Tammy smiled at the thought. She wasn't looking for Prince Charming. Mr. Normal would have been fine, but she wasn't looking for him either. She wasn't looking for anyone at the moment. She just wanted to get through another season of the show, and keep their ratings where they were. That was hard enough, especially with curveballs like their star getting pregnant. She still hadn't figured out how they were going to work around that. She'd figure out something. She had to. Tammy always came up with some idea that saved the day. She was famous for it.
A VIP service was waiting at the curb when they got to the airport, and the greeter recognized Tammy immediately. They had taken care of her before. Her assistant had arranged it. They checked her bags in for her, carried her briefcase, and commented about how cute her dog was.
“You hear that, Juanie?” Tammy said, bending to kiss the chihuahua. “She said you're a cutie. Yes, you are.” Juanita shivered in response. Tammy had shoved her pink cashmere sweater into the bag with her, and would put it on her on the plane. She always complained that you could hang meat in the first-class cabin, they kept it so damn cold. She had brought a cashmere sweater for herself too. She always froze on planes. Probably because she skipped meals and never got enough sleep. She was looking forward to sleeping late at her parents' house that weekend. Something about being there made her feel as though she were back in the womb. It was the only place in her universe where she felt loved and nurtured and didn't have to take care of anyone else. Her mother adored fussing over them, no matter how old they were. She was looking forward to talking to her sisters about their parents' thirty-fifth anniversary, which was coming up in December. They wanted to throw a big party for them. Two of her sisters wanted to do it in Connecticut, and Tammy thought they should throw a big, fancy party at a hotel in New York. It was a landmark anniversary after all.