Short Story: What Would Lefty Do?

Short Story: What Would Lefty Do?

“Don’t you just love it when a plan comes together?”

Michelle spun around looking at the scared faces of the people sitting on the conference table.

“Good job people, this week’s edition will literally blow the readers’ pants off,” she said looking at the mock-up of the most recent edition of the magazine behind her, “now shoo, my little pets, I have a lot to do today.”

Michelle was the editor-in-chief of ROYALE,the leading fashion and gossip magazine in the world. It targeted all audiences: the old, young, men, women. It usually was sold out after the first couple of hours it hit the stands. And she was just twenty-four years old.

She sat on the edge of the conference table staring at the enlarged mock-up. It was perfect.

“Miss Reyes,” her assistant called, peeking his head around the conference door, she didn’t bother to turn around….

“Shhh, I’m absorbing,” she said gesturing to the atmosphere.

“It’s your mother,” he said.

Michelle sat up, “Where is she?”

“In your office.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Her mother owned ROYALE, like actually owned it. ROYALEhad offices all over the world: France, Italy, Spain, literally in every country that was relevant. And it all felt surreal to her, four years ago she was an aspiring singer trying to get through the death of her adopted parents, just one of its loyal readers and now she was basically running it. You can’t imagine the shock on her face when Sandra Wellings, better known as Lefty, sent for her and told her that she was her birth mother and would like to legally adopt her. There was no crying, no gushing, just “okay.” Let’s just say Lefty, wasn’t one big on emotions. After officially adopting her, Lefty explained her reason for abandoning her, she had only been sixteen at the time and was from a poor background and couldn’t take care of her, but three husbands later, she had the finances to take care of her and was going to.

Lefty had never had another kid, after her first marriage, she began to keep an eye on Michelle, and when Michelle had lost her foster parents, she felt that was the best time to intervene.

Lefty had been Michelle’s role model over the years and now Michelle had only three rules in life, ‘Live like Lefty would,’ ‘Party like Lefty would,’ and ‘Do as Lefty would.’

Lefty hadn’t given a big speech about how she regrets not being there for Michelle when she was growing up, but the gifts she constantly gave was more than enough. An apartment on upper Eastside, New York, a house in the Hamptons that came with a Ferrari and a Lamborghini, a house in orange county, that came with a Porsche, a villa in Milan and a chateau in Paris, to name a few. Lefty really knew how to make up for lost times.

“Mother,” Michelle called as she entered her office.

“Precious,” Lefty raising her hands for a hug

After hugging her mother she said, “Have a seat,” gesturing to one of the chairs around her spacious office.

“it has been ages,” lefty said sitting crossing her legs elegantly. Truth was, it was barely two weeks. No one knew where Lefty was, it was in her nature to take off with her admirers, the one that could afford. At forty, Lefty looked half her age and changed boyfriends more than Nicki Minaj swore in her raps.

“Work has been keeping me busy.”

“The youngest editor-in-chief ever in the world, a tough job for you?”

“No, I can handle it,” Michelle said, not wanting to disappoint her.

“That is no doubt pleasant to hear, I’m looking forward to the next edition, you’re doing a good job. But that’s not why I’m here, but first, where is that metro sexual assistant of yours?”

Michelle ordered him in using her intercom and turned to face her mother, her assistant rushed in.

“I’ll have an iced tea, long island iced tea, I mean,” Lefty said as though he was a bartender, “and what are you having dear?” she asked Michelle.

“Gin and tonic.”

The young lad rushed to the built in bar that lefty stocked with all sorts of drinks when she came over and began to prepare their orders.

“Always have an assistant with a bartending degree I say…” Lefty said, “and onto business, I need a favor from you my darling.”

“Anything Mother,” Michelle said feeling a bit silly calling Lefty mother when they barely looked years apart.

The assistant brought their drinks over.

"The Italian ambassador, I owe him a favor and his son is around, so I promised his son dinner with you, who knows you might hit it off and finally have a boyfriend.”

“I have a boyfriend,” Michelle said.

“The photographer…. I told you he’s nothing but a gold digger and a worthy booty call.”

“He has been my boyfriend since college.”

“The more reason you should change him, just say you will do this little favor for your mother and have dinner with my friend's son.”

“Fine, when?”

“Tonight.”

“But I can’t tonight, we have a new issue coming out in a couple of days…”

Lefty turned to the standby assistant whose name neither of them cared to know.

“Take care of the magazine tonight would you?"

His face beamed with excitement as the obviously large responsibility was handed over to him.

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.”

“I’ve had a dress delivered to your apartment, why don’t you go home and get ready,” Lefty said before standing up, her model body still intact. “Don’t forget our brunch tomorrow.”

“We don’t have brunch tomorrow.”

“Now we do,” she said walking out of the office sending an air kiss in her wake. Michelle turned to the still beaming assistant

“Get Randy up here.”

“I’m sorry sweetie but I have to cancel dinner again today, my mom made an appointment for me at the Italian embassy that I cannot afford not to show up to.” Michelle explained to her boyfriend, Randy. He was also a photographer for the magazine.

“That’s okay,” he said kissing her. “Will you be out late?” he asked concern.

“Maybe.”

“That’s okay too. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“I miss you already,” she said before shooing him out of her office, slightly disappointed with the fact he was so understanding and not at all upset that she was cancelling dinner the third time that week, who is okay with being stood up that often?

At dinner that night, honestly, Michelle was having an amazing time with Adam, the son of the Italian ambassador. They were having dinner at a hot new French restaurant, she’d told Randy, it was at the embassy to make it sound work related. Then, she suddenly felt a pang of guilt as she remembered Randy, her sweet, understanding Randy.

“You are truly amazing,” Adam was saying, still laughing to a story she just told. “A true daughter of your mother.”

“A compliment of the highest order,” Michelle said as her phone buzzed, it was a call from her assistant, she set her phone on silent. “One of my pets, its unimportant,” she explained.

“Do you really call them pets?” he asked.

“They jump when I say jump, sit when I say sit, roll over when I say so…..trust me, they’re pets.”

“It’s like talking to Lefty herself,” Adam said.

“Excuse me while I use the little ladies room…” Michelle excused herself exactly as Lefty would have done.

She had taken a number of steps away from the table when she saw one the models for this month’s issue seated there in the same restaurant as her….with her boyfriend. She stopped dead in tracks, she couldn’t believe Randy would cheat on her, the gold digger. She didn’t even care how long it had been going on, she was going to teach them a lesson. She didn't feel the urge to cry, it was more of “a walk over there and pour a drink on his face” urge, but that was un-lady like. She didn’t move as she intently tried to figure out what her mother would do in a situation like this.

She walked up to where they were seated with a smile on her face “Irene?” she asked, “or is it I..I..I what is that your name?”

She watched as their faces turned pale, “I can explain..” Randy attempted to say.

“I asked the lady a question,” she cut him off.

“Its Isabelle ma’am, Isabelle Grobachev.”

“I don’t know who you are but I know you know it’s not very wise to be dating my boyfriend,” she said calmly. “I am Michelle fucking Reyes, daughter of Sandra ‘Lefty’ the fuck Wellings. I can cut short your modeling carrier and send you back to the hellhole of the country you come from and make sure to you never step foot in this here again. On second thought, that’s exactly what I’ll do, and when I’m done with you the only modeling you’ll be doing would in a chicken suit for whatever fast food chain would still accept you.”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” Randy said as tears began to well up in Isabelle’s eyes.

“And you…” she said turning on Randy, “my mother was right about you, by the time I’m done with you… you will flinch whenever you look at a model …."

“Stop,” Randy said “this is what drove me insane when I was with you, you’re not Lefty, never was, never will be, you’re just her illegitimate spoilt brat of a daughter, do you think you would even be threatening people if she hadn’t reached out to you.”

Michelle smiled, “I may not be Lefty but you’ll soon find out that I can cause as much damage to a person’s life as she can, as long as you’re in this country, no magazine or newspaper or online journal will hire you. Try me,” she turned to the nearby waiter that had been eavesdropping. “My name is Michelle Reyes...”

“I know who you are ma’am…”

“these people are making me uncomfortable,” she said in an innocent voice, “I may never come here again.”

Shock crossed his face and then he turned to the seated couple, “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave,” he said

“This is ridiculous, I’ll sue,” Randy said.

“I’ll cover your losses,” Michelle said to the waiter and walked away, feeling empowering. She paused and turned to Randy “and by the way, it’s over, and before that…you’re fired.”

“You’re making a scene sir.” She heard the waiter tell Randy as she walked away.

As Michelle redid her makeup, she stared into her face, it was a younger version of Lefty, the same eye color, smooth skin, perfect smile and nasty attitude. Exactly like Lefty, she remembered the ambassador’s son waiting to take her to the yacht after dinner, who knows he could be her first husband. Lefty’s first husband had been wealthy Texan mogul that fell in love with her when he saw her on the run way when she was 22, two years later, she broke his heart and cleaned him dry in the divorce. Never catch feelings, Lefty always said.

As she finished her makeup touches, she thought, this night was the eye opener she needed to be the strong woman her mother was, she smiled as she remembered the fear she put on Randy and Isabelle’s faces. But she had to ask herself, is that what her mother would have done in a situation like that, and she was satisfied with her answer, yes, that is exactly what Lefty would do.