No Ordinary Love Read online

  “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?”

  “You,” Tony said.

  “When?” Trina asked.

  “Soon.” He kissed her hard on the lips.

  Soon! Yes! To Tony, “soon” means “right away.” She pulled back from the kiss. “Are you kissing me to keep me from asking you more questions about it?”

  “Yes,” Tony said. He kissed her again, and this time he didn’t press as hard.

  “I’ll stop asking questions, if you don’t stop kissing me.”

  “I will kiss you all night long,” Tony said.

  “All over my body,” Trina said.

  “All over your body.”

  It’s a good thing Tony’s not a singer, Trina thought. He’s about to lose the use of his lips and tongue for a few days....

  42

  “I hope you don’t mind if I visit some of my friends at Saint Francis today,” Trina said the next morning while they ate buttered toast and drank orange juice.

  “I do not mind,” Tony said.

  “I know it’s strange to go in to work on a day off,” Trina said.

  “It is not strange,” Tony said. “You like your work.”

  “And until the Asperger’s center opens, I want to try to take as much time off as I can so I can spend time with you.”

  “You cannot spend time,” Tony said. “It is not money.”

  “But it’s not good to waste time, is it?” Trina asked.

  “No,” Tony said. “Time is valuable.”

  “I should be done by eleven, and we can go out to lunch and eat it in the park if the press leaves us in peace.”

  “I would like that,” Tony said. He finished his fourth piece of toast.

  “Why don’t you wait for me here?” Trina asked. “Get some extra sleep.” She kissed his neck. “You earned it last night. You kissed every square inch of my body.”

  “I did,” Tony said. “I made a map of your body with my lips.”

  And I’m still tingling in places from those kisses. “So you’ll stay here and rest, right?”

  “I have an errand to run,” Tony said. “Please do not ask me what.”

  Trina looked up from her toast. “An errand, huh?”

  “Yes,” Tony said.

  “Doing what?” Trina asked.

  “You asked me what,” Tony said.

  “I’m just curious,” Trina said.

  “But I am trying to keep a secret from you.”

  “What if I finish visiting my friends earlier than eleven?” Trina asked. “Will you be close to the hospital?”

  “I will have my phone,” Tony said. “You can call me, and I will come to the hospital.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Trina said.

  “I will be close to the hospital,” Tony said.

  “How close?”

  Tony blinked several times. “I am going to Union Square.”

  Trina squinted. “You’re going . . . to Union Square, huh?”

  “Yes,” Tony said. “On an errand.”

  Trina rubbed his hand. “There are a lot of nice stores at Union Square.” Including Tiffany & Co. Yes!

  “Please do not ask more,” Tony said.

  Trina smiled widely. “I won’t ask you anything more about it. I like surprises.”

  “Surprises keep a relationship fresh,” Tony said.

  After walking Trina to Saint Francis, he backtracked down Hyde to Post Street and walked half a mile to Union Square—and Tiffany & Co. A doorman opened the door, and Tony walked directly to the back of the first floor to a showcase of engagement rings.

  He stood at this showcase for thirty minutes while two sales associates talked to each other, waited on other customers who came in after him, and generally ignored his existence. Tony tried to make eye contact with them several times but failed.

  A tall pencil-thin woman with a severe nose and far too much makeup breezed by him to wait on a new arrival, sayin
g, “The silver jewelry is upstairs.”

  “I do not want silver jewelry,” Tony said. “I want to buy an engagement ring.”

  The pencil-thin sales associate rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I will be with you in a moment,” she said with a heavy sigh.

  Tony waited twenty more minutes of moments while the pencil-thin woman waited on a woman who wore fur around her neck and then another woman who wore many diamonds around her neck, on her fingers, and on her wrists.

  A younger long-haired associate approached Tony from behind. “Have you been helped?”

  Tony turned. “No.”

  “Someone will be with you shortly,” she said, and she, too, moved away to help another customer who had just walked in.

  Tony pulled on his left ring finger. He located the pencil-thin woman and stood next to the woman she was helping.

  “Oh, that will look divine on you, Faye,” the pencil-thin woman said.

  “I would like to buy an engagement ring now,” Tony said.

  “I told you I would be right with you,” the pencil-thin woman said.

  Tony twisted his left ring finger. “You have not been right with me. You have been wrong with me. You have helped four other people who came in after I did. I have waited my turn. It is now my turn.”

  The pencil-thin woman sighed. “Greta, could you help this fine gentleman?”

  Greta, the long-haired associate, crept over to him at the speed of an arthritic sloth. “What may I help you with?” she asked blandly.

  Tony stared into Greta’s eyes. “You do not want to help me. Please get someone who can help me.”

  “Of course I want to help you, sir,” Greta said.

  “If you wanted to help me, you would not have walked so slowly,” Tony said. “If you wanted to help me, you would not have walked past me twenty-seven minutes ago. Please get someone who can help me buy an engagement ring.”

  Greta exhaled, rolled her eyes, and slinked away—to another new arrival in designer sunglasses, shoes, and clothes.

  Ten minutes later, Tony began twisting and pulling all of his fingers as he approached the pencil-thin woman once again. “My name is Tony Santangelo,” he said. “I am from Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, New York, USA. I want to buy an engagement ring for Trina today.”

  The pencil-thin woman’s mouth dropped open. “You’re Art E.”