“So your new job is dealing with public figures that have gotten themselves in some sort of trouble.”
“Well, that’s not how I would characterize what I do.” Stella shifted in her seat and took a subtle breath. “I handle legal issues that arise when there’s excessive media attention and public scrutiny.”
“Do you miss the General Counsel’s office?”
“I really like what I do now and I have personal experience that helps our clients know that I can help. I’ve been where they are and know how to take steps to get them out of the frying pan.”
“The frying pan?” Diane asked.
“Being in the media, whether you’re a darling or demonized, is difficult. So I equate it to being in a frying pan. If you’re in there for a few seconds, it’s nice and warm; if you’re in there longer than that, you start to crack and burn.”
“Which do you think you were? A darling or a demon?”
“Both.” Stella took a sip of water. “I think initially people were happy I lived, you know? Then the media took every attempt to tear me down.”
“Give me an example.”
“This is going to sound so stupid when you look at what all has happened to me, but I made one C in law school and the media turned that into I almost failed out of law school. Wherever I went, they were there; it was pure madness for a while. I’m hoping to get back to a normal, very boring, life.”
“Do you really think that will happen? I mean, you’ve chosen a job, in Washington, that lands you on the TV on a routine basis.”
FUCK.
The rest of the interview was just as excruciating. Stella felt as if she’d been physically beaten as she left the hotel suite. Millie put her arm over Stella’s shoulders and guided her to the elevators. Dumb and Dumber were standing outside the suite and followed them to the elevators.
“You did really good, El.” Millie pushed the button for the elevator. “Really well. I’m proud of you.”
Stella pulled her phone out of her purse and turned it on, listening to it chirp with a million different messages. They piled into the elevator and the two human machines took up over half of the car.
“So do you two mammoths have names?” Stella asked.
“I’m Savage,” the one with a tribal neck tattoo answered.
“Razor,” the other one barked.
Millie and Stella both burst out laughing. “Those aren’t names,” Millie snorted, practically dissolving into giggles. “Come on, your mama didn’t name you Razor.”
“Joe?” Stella suggested. “Tom?”
“Mark? Camden?” Millie asked through giggles. “Javier?”
Razor and Savage didn’t flinch. Stella looked at herself, still a little shaken from the interview, then at Millie, who was trying to get a hold of herself, and finally to Dumb and Dumber. She shook her head. Thanks to George and Jesse and their uber-protectiveness, they were riding in the weirdest elevator that Stella had ever been on.
She slumped against the glass wall. “Well, that was horrific,” she said to herself. The elevator announced something she couldn’t decipher. It sounded like a toad croaking out numbers.
“What the fuck did the elevator just say?” She looked at Millie, who cocked her head to the side in a question.
“No clue.”
The announcement came again and the elevator stopped on their floor. Stella burst out laughing. “She’s slurring so much it sounds like a drunk lady announcing the floors,” she observed loudly and snorted.
“That...is fantastic. Do you think there’s like, a lady somewhere that’s been drinking since nine am that calls the floors? Like a live-action elevator?” Millie doubled over with laughter. “I’m about to piss myself.”
“I want that job,” Stella giggled as they made their way to their room. “Let’s get our shit and go get drunk. Razor, Savage, we’re going to get drunk. You’re more than welcome to guard our bodies at the bar.”
“Oh, on $10 beers?” Millie held the door open for Stella.
“Nope. On $20 martinis! To the bar!” she decreed as she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “I’m never doing that again.”
“What? Getting on the elevator?” Millie stopped abruptly behind Stella on their way out the door. “I’m not walking down 22 flights of stairs.”
“No, another interview. That was fucking stressful.” She ran her hand through her hair and smoothed her dress.
“You did really well, though, Stella. You’ll see.”
“Whatever,” Stella walked toward the drunk elevators, “I just hope I can get ahead of all the coverage this time.”
“What do you mean?”
Stella didn’t look at Millie. “A storm is brewing, I can feel it. I just hope I can get in front of it instead of getting caught in it this time.”
Millie contemplated this while they waited for the elevator that would take them to the top floor to the restaurant/bar that rotated and would give them a 360 degree view of New York City.
It’d been difficult for Stella to get Patrick by himself lately because Millie lived with him and she was in the dark about Jamie’s return to ATF. She needed to figure out a way that she and Patrick could talk without raising any Millie flags, and soon.
Once they were settled in their table by the floor to ceiling windows, Millie let out a low sigh. They were just out of earshot of the meatheads, who were sitting two tables over, and it felt as liberating as if they were alone.
Stella grinned. “What? Has today bored you? Are you over doing interviews with Diane Sawyer?”
“I just don’t know how you can live like this, El. I mean, I’ve had my ass clenched since we got on the train to come here. Do you feel like this every day?”
It was an honest question and Stella pondered her answer. She was tightly wound on a daily basis. When was the last time she felt utterly relaxed? On her way back to DC with George after testifying—she answered her own question. That hadn’t worked out well at the end. She hadn’t let her guard down for ten minutes since.
“Pretty much.” Stella nodded as the server brought them a round of dirty martinis. “Here’s to the dirty martinis, may they go down easy and help us unclench.”
“Gross, but okay,” Millie retorted. They clinked glasses and turned them up.
Stella motioned the server back over. “Go ahead and get us another round of porn martinis.”
“Porn?” the server asked.
“I need it dirtier.” Stella laughed and Millie almost spit her drink out.
“Okay, you got it.” The server smirked at them, nodded and walked back to the bar.
Millie lifted her eyebrows at Stella. “Porn Martinis?”
“Well, it fits, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess it does.” Millie sipped the last bit of vodka in her glass. “So… Diane Sawyer is more gorgeous in person than on TV, huh?”
“Yeah, she is. She was as gentle as she could be… I guess.” She shrugged.
“She totally could’ve been harder on you, but again, you’re so tragic, people want to take it easy on you,” Millie mocked.
“I am so fucking tragic,” she agreed. “It’s hard to be this tragic, I’ll have you know, Ms. Rodriguez. Not everyone can maintain this tragic existence for as long as I have.” Stella really was kidding, even though what she said was true. Even if she were to allow herself time to think about the last year and a half, she would feel sorry for her circumstances.
“Yep, you’re a fucking sad sack of a person,” Millie said and then looked out the window.
Stella thanked the server as she set down their second round. “Keep ‘em coming, would you? I have a feeling we’ll be needing several more rounds.” Stella moved her hand to nudge Millie’s. “Just say whatever it is, Mil.”