21 Steps To Happiness

“It’s too much money.”

“Don’t be so common!” She put her shades on, protecting herself from my commonness. “You’re Jodie Blanchett’s daughter. People will expect you to pay for everything. And you will! I don’t want you to seem cheap, it would reflect poorly on me.” She tapped on the driver’s shoulder as we approached the terminal. “To the Minute-Drop!”

I tried not to make a face, but she looked at me and sighed. “I can’t go inside the terminal. Not at this time of day. There are all…those people.”

I sat there beside Jodie, uncomfortable as usual, trying to think of something to say or to do that would impress her. Or at least get her attention. But she was already back on her cell phone, this time yelling at her PA and complaining about how U.S. Customs is ruining the fashion industry.

“Thank you, Jodie,” I said when I got out of the limousine.

She put her cell phone on the side for a second.

“Thank you?”

“For arranging all this,” I said, pointing at the terminal.

And for giving me the chance to show you I can be the kind of girl you’d actually claim as your daughter.

She looked annoyed. She doesn’t like thank-yous or goodbyes. It’s her excuse to run away from people pronto and without ceremony. “Please, Lynn. Don’t turn it into another mess,” she said and they immediately drove away.

Step #2:

Remember: The grass could ALWAYS be greener.

I want this!

I’ve always wanted this!

To be given a chance!

I look at myself in the mirror. There is such a difference between the person I want to be and this gross image I see. I’m a small chunky girl just out of college trying to look like a fashion guru about to tackle Paris.

I’m nothing like Jodie. Nothing at all.

I know that’s exactly what they expect in Paris. That’s what they paid for. Jodie II: a younger, kinkier, sexier, thinner version of the genius mother.

And all they’re going to get is me.

Untalented!

Inexperienced!

Unqualified!

I sit on the toilet. I hide my face in my hands and refocus.

I am Lynn Blanchett.

That’s Blanchett with two t’s, dammit!

I AM fab! I AM glam! I AM…going to be sick!

Focus focus. FOCUS!

Knock, knock.

“Yes?”

“We’re about to take off, miss. You should go back to your seat.”

I walk through the first-class cabin. Look at those people. I don’t belong here. I’d be better off with the sales reps in Business.

Roxanne looks particularly excited when I get back into my seat. She drops her magazine and whispers in my ear. “Don’t look back. Hubert Barclay is coming our way.”

Hubert who?

“He’s been trying to date me forever. Seriously! A womanizer like him. You must know Hubert?”

“Well…”

“He is so low. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was hunting in your age group. He’s such a disgusting man.”

I throw a quick glance in the aisle to see who she’s talking about but all I see is a very handsome man walking toward us. Late thirties. Tall. Athletic. Elegant. It can’t be the one she’s talking about, because…

“Oh, Roxanne! Tsk, tsk! Going to Paris and not telling me, again.”

Wait a minute! What’s so disgusting about him?

“So sorry, Hubert. Lynn and I are having a girls-only pleasure trip. You know Lynn? Jodie Blanchett’s daughter?”

He looks at me and gives me his am-I-supposed-to-know-you smile. He finally makes up his mind and says, “Of course, how are you, Laura?”

“Lynn,” I correct him.

“Yeah, right, Lynn. Sorry. How have you been, since…since last time?”

“I’ve been good, Hubert,” I say, trying to keep my breathing at a socially acceptable speed.

“Lynn is working for Muriel Boutonnière, you know, Francis’s daughter.”

“Muriel, huh? Her father and I, we go way back,” he says and the world keeps getting smaller. “Is she still not talking to him?”

How would I know?

“She doesn’t…talk about that with me.”

We all shake our heads. Damn Shame is the consensus.

“Anyway, I don’t want to spoil your all-girl…thing,” he says and walks back to his seat for the takeoff.