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“I’ll do all the talking. In the meantime, I’m ready to come out. I’d like to dress up for Thanksgiving, if you’re okay with it.”
“I’m perfectly fine with it, Max. I’ve been telling you to do it. What will you wear?”
“Pants, but not my old guy’s stuff. I wish I had your figure.”
“Hurry, let’s finish up in here and get online. I know just what you should get. You know those silky black pants I have? And that pink silk shirt? It makes a statement without the shock. I bet it will take a while for some people to even notice.”
She wiped her hands off on a dish towel and went to his hair, running her hands through it.
“I’ll clean up your neck and use the curling iron on the top. Diana can do your makeup. Lots of kohl around the eyes and red lips.”
“Can I get a manicure this week?” he asked, looking at his work-worn hands.
“Yes! Let’s go together. I need one, too. Keep using that lotion and wear gloves this week at work,” she said, examining his hands. “It won’t take long to clean these bad boys up.”
“What about shoes? I’d like to try heels.”
“You’re already six three. I think flats. Why torture yourself walking in heels? You can wear those bejeweled ballet slippers the girls found you at the thrift store.”
“I’m excited. Can I start using Maxine formally?”
“Of course. I just thought of football. You’ll have to bring stuff to change into if you play.”
“I’m playing. I love football on the beach with that group.”
“It feels like a safe place,” Alison said, determined to make it so for Max. “I’m going to tell Lisa. Give her the heads up.”
“That’s a good idea. I’m worried about Will and the others.”
“It’ll be fine,” Alison replied. “No one would dare say anything negative.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Chapter 14
That weekend, Ryan’s trip to Las Vegas turned out to be a tour de force. Peter would later lament that he’d allowed Ryan to go on the trip without a contract in place, because Public Broadcasting offered Ryan the opportunity to host his own show.
Saturday, he was on the floor of the convention center, greeting fans ofRescuing Old New York, when the head of production approached him. After introducing himself to Ryan, Robert Warren didn’t waste any time.
“I’m a huge fan of Jack Smith’s work. After watching the tape of your new episode, we realized we need to go back in time and focus on Jack’s renovations, and you would be perfect as the host. Peter made the mistake of telling us that the current show was your idea after finding a rusty file cabinet full of Jack’s projects in the basement storage room at Exchange Place.”
“I found all my father’s files from thirty years ago. He was a young man when he started. I never knew him officially as my father. He was my professor in college, but it wasn’t until his death that I discovered he was my birth father.”
“Fascinating story. I’m convinced we need to move on this quickly, Ryan. Are you interested in hosting a show specifically about Jack’s work? You’d have carte blanche. If you want to make it documentary style, we can do that, too.”
“Is there enough material to do a season?”
“I believe so. For many seasons to come. The plus side of so much work is that you would have a lengthy hiatus when youweren’t taping.” Robert dug in his pocket and pulled out a card. “Did you bring your family on this trip?”
“No, not this time.”
“Great. If you’re free, call me, and let’s have dinner tonight. I want to get moving on this right away. I understand you just returned to Lang, Smith and Romney and are working without a contract.”
“That’s true, but there’s loyalty there,” Ryan said, trying not to blanch. “Peter was my father’s business partner for a long time.”
“Well, he’d better move fast and make you a partner, too. But this won’t infringe on what you’re doing over there, anyway. Completely different projects.”
“Thank you so much,” Ryan replied. “I don’t even know what to say.”
