conversation extending over several months, about . . . what Ritz was supposed to do when she grew up.”
He looked the picture of a baffled father. “When she turned twenty-five, I told Ritz she had to develop some talent other than picking up checks. She wanted me to put up the money to option a script and produce a movie for her. I told her it was high time that she developed some interest in the family business. She spent about a month traveling around, touching base with some of the key people in our operation.”
His lips puckered, as if he’d just taken a healthy swallow of vinegar masquerading as fine wine. “She told me it was boring.”
Liza had nothing to say to that. For a man who had devoted himself to upgrading his father’s package tour business, making the connections to create a deluxe travel operation, Ritz’s comment couldn’t have gone down well.
“So what did you do?” Michael asked.
“I pointed out that with her background, she could make an excellent ambassador for the business.” Even the memory of the conversation made Tarleton’s temper flare. “All she had to do was apply herself. Instead, she came to me with some harebrained idea about underwriting the pilot for a sitcom she could star in.”
Anger and anguish warred on Tarleton’s face. “I told her it was time she started living in reality—that from here on, the bank was closed.” He shot them a pleading look. “She had a separate trust fund from her grandmother—I thought she could live on that while she thought about her options. How was I to know she’d run through that money already?”
Liza figured it was her turn to ask a question. “So what did Ritz do?”
“Her mother told me that she tried to get onto one of those reality shows. There was Celebrity Undercover , where they were supposed to go out and take different jobs week after week, with the one fooling the most people winning. Then she tried for Trump’s show. But her competition was either more famous or younger. Ritz thought she had a shot at becoming a regular on one of those celebrity prank shows. From the way she could always talk people into doing things, she thought she’d be a natural for that. But the show fell through. I think she tried for one of those celebrity gossip shows, and then there was the dancing show.”
“We heard how that turned out,” Liza said. “It must have been a bitter pill for her to swallow when all she could get was Celebrity Week on D-Kodas .” Ritz had never been a brightly shining star. But lately even that had been fading. Now it turned out she wasn’t just being hit in the ego, but in the wallet, too.
“But don’t you see?” Exasperation burst through Fritz Tarleton’s pain. “Being the Tarleton Tours ambassador would have been all about celebrity—publicity, going to the most glamorous places on Earth . . .”
Except that to the people in Ritz’s circle, the ones she wanted to impress, it would seem more like being a glorified tour guide, or the hostess in a restaurant . . . or even the chauffeur for your limo, Liza thought. But Fritz Tarleton couldn’t see that, just as he didn’t realize that while his clients might be rich and famous, they just considered him a travel agent.
Tarleton slumped in his chair. “Was that such a bad thing?” he asked, his voice plaintive.
“I wouldn’t think so,” Liza carefully replied. “But I guess it wasn’t what Ritz wanted.”
Fritz Tarleton sat silent for a moment and then slowly got up. “I hope you can figure out some way to go at this.” His voice was heavy as he spoke. He knew he was missing something in this situation, but Liza found herself hoping he wouldn’t figure out how Ritz must have felt.
“Remember, if there’s anything you need ...” Tarleton fumbled in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, coming out with two Tarleton Tours business cards. One had his name and direct office line. The other was for Jim McShane, the security
He looked the picture of a baffled father. “When she turned twenty-five, I told Ritz she had to develop some talent other than picking up checks. She wanted me to put up the money to option a script and produce a movie for her. I told her it was high time that she developed some interest in the family business. She spent about a month traveling around, touching base with some of the key people in our operation.”
His lips puckered, as if he’d just taken a healthy swallow of vinegar masquerading as fine wine. “She told me it was boring.”
Liza had nothing to say to that. For a man who had devoted himself to upgrading his father’s package tour business, making the connections to create a deluxe travel operation, Ritz’s comment couldn’t have gone down well.
“So what did you do?” Michael asked.
“I pointed out that with her background, she could make an excellent ambassador for the business.” Even the memory of the conversation made Tarleton’s temper flare. “All she had to do was apply herself. Instead, she came to me with some harebrained idea about underwriting the pilot for a sitcom she could star in.”
Anger and anguish warred on Tarleton’s face. “I told her it was time she started living in reality—that from here on, the bank was closed.” He shot them a pleading look. “She had a separate trust fund from her grandmother—I thought she could live on that while she thought about her options. How was I to know she’d run through that money already?”
Liza figured it was her turn to ask a question. “So what did Ritz do?”
“Her mother told me that she tried to get onto one of those reality shows. There was Celebrity Undercover , where they were supposed to go out and take different jobs week after week, with the one fooling the most people winning. Then she tried for Trump’s show. But her competition was either more famous or younger. Ritz thought she had a shot at becoming a regular on one of those celebrity prank shows. From the way she could always talk people into doing things, she thought she’d be a natural for that. But the show fell through. I think she tried for one of those celebrity gossip shows, and then there was the dancing show.”
“We heard how that turned out,” Liza said. “It must have been a bitter pill for her to swallow when all she could get was Celebrity Week on D-Kodas .” Ritz had never been a brightly shining star. But lately even that had been fading. Now it turned out she wasn’t just being hit in the ego, but in the wallet, too.
“But don’t you see?” Exasperation burst through Fritz Tarleton’s pain. “Being the Tarleton Tours ambassador would have been all about celebrity—publicity, going to the most glamorous places on Earth . . .”
Except that to the people in Ritz’s circle, the ones she wanted to impress, it would seem more like being a glorified tour guide, or the hostess in a restaurant . . . or even the chauffeur for your limo, Liza thought. But Fritz Tarleton couldn’t see that, just as he didn’t realize that while his clients might be rich and famous, they just considered him a travel agent.
Tarleton slumped in his chair. “Was that such a bad thing?” he asked, his voice plaintive.
“I wouldn’t think so,” Liza carefully replied. “But I guess it wasn’t what Ritz wanted.”
Fritz Tarleton sat silent for a moment and then slowly got up. “I hope you can figure out some way to go at this.” His voice was heavy as he spoke. He knew he was missing something in this situation, but Liza found herself hoping he wouldn’t figure out how Ritz must have felt.
“Remember, if there’s anything you need ...” Tarleton fumbled in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, coming out with two Tarleton Tours business cards. One had his name and direct office line. The other was for Jim McShane, the security
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