Perfect on Paper (17 page)

Late the next morning, Paige Beckerman announced the Adina Energy win to the entire company via videoconference. She said we’d signed a seven-figure, one-year contract for product launches and that the account would be handled out of the San Francisco office.

I smiled and looked around at the people sitting next to me in the crowded New York conference room, wondering if anyone would realize that I was the one who would be managing the account, that I was the one who would be running the show.

Then Paige Beckerman said the team would be led by Mandy Edwards.

“So, um, do you know what products Adina Energy has coming out this year?” I was sitting in Cynthia’s office an hour later, updating her on the JAG account while trying not to cry, and hoping she wouldn’t notice.

She shuffled through some papers on her desk. “Not a clue. But I’ve been so distracted with the wedding plans that even if I knew, I probably would have forgotten.”

“Yeah, I guess you’ve got more important things to worry about. So, um, do you know why they chose Mandy Edwards to run the account? I mean, because, well, she’s still pretty new to the sports division.” Was I the only one who had thought I was the best choice for the job? Was I the only one who thought I’d been screwed?

She kept looking through the papers. “Jess said she’s expressed quite an interest in taking on more work. And she’s done a great job with her other accounts, so it looks like this is her chance to get more involved in the sports side of the agency.”

“Oh.” I looked at the floor and bit my lip. That weasel. Expressing an interest in taking my job was more like it. But then again, why hadn’t I lobbied for more work, too? Should I have? I truly sucked at office politics.

I cleared my throat. “So, um, is everything all set for the wedding?”

“Knock on wood, but I think so. As long as Dale doesn’t stand me up, we’re all good.”

“Oh, please. It’s going to be perfect.”

She stood up and put her coat on. “I sure hope you’re right. Okay, Waverly, I’m sorry to be so rushed, but I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you on Saturday?”

“Okay.” I looked at my hands in my lap.

She stopped and looked at me. “Hon, is everything okay?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure? You seem a little down.”

I forced a smile and nodded. “Yep.” I wasn’t about to make this week about me.

Saturday morning I woke up early, wrapped a plastic bag over my cast, and took a long, hot shower. When I got out and could finally see through the steam filling up the bathroom, I wrapped myself up in The Robe and walked over to the bedroom window facing the street. Cynthia had chosen the luxurious Waldorf-Astoria as the location for her wedding, and I was at the smaller yet lovely Hôtel Plaza Athénée. It was just a few blocks away from Central Park, which was blanketed with a thick layer of snow, and its windows framed a spectacular portrait of a pristine Manhattan winter. The boutique hotel reminded me a bit of Buenos Aires and the European-style architecture so typical of the Argentine capital. I had spent a few weeks in Buenos Aires right after college and had fallen in love with everything about it, especially the gorgeous men there. My South American AIKS (Alcohol-Induced Kissing Syndrome) had kicked in big time.

After I dried my hair, I headed downstairs. The wedding wasn’t until five thirty, so I had as much time as I wanted to enjoy and explore, although I wasn’t planning on walking around all that much because of my hunchback limp. But I wanted to check out the neighborhood. I love Manhattan—its vibe and appearance can change so much from block to block that every few minutes it’s like entering a brand new city. The sheer magnitude and boundless energy of it never cease to amaze me. I consider myself a city person and always say I will live in San Francisco unless I am delivered in a body bag to the suburbs, but New York is on a completely different level. Every time I go there I feel like a freckle-faced country bumpkin with a show pig under her arm, all alone in the big city for the very first time.

An hour later, I was reading the newspaper at a café when my cell phone rang. It startled me so much I nearly dropped my coffee in my lap. I dug the phone out of my purse and didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“Waverly?” It was a familiar female voice, but I couldn’t place it.

“Yes?”

“Hey there, it’s Kristina from the airplane the other day. How are you?”

Kristina? What? No way.

“Oh, hi, Kristina. I’m good, thanks. Just hanging out at a café near my hotel. How are you?” I said.

“All good on this end, just hoping it doesn’t snow anymore. Anyhow, I know this is a long shot, but by any chance did you pick up my appointment book by accident? I can’t find it anywhere and think it may have fallen out of my purse on the plane. Maybe it ended up in yours?”

I frowned. “An appointment book? What does it look like?”

“It’s very small and dark green. Leather binding.”

I cradled the phone between my ear and my shoulder. “Okay, let me dig through my purse. Just a second … what do I have here … wallet … lipstick … brush … chapstick … sunglasses … another lipstick … pen … pen … pen … checkbook … God, I have a lot of crap in here … wait! Yes, here it is. One green appointment book. Wow, I’m sorry, I have no idea how it got in there. I didn’t mean to pull a Winona on you.”

“Oh, please don’t apologize. I’m so relieved to have found it. I can’t seem to get myself out of the dark ages and buy a BlackBerry, so without that book, I’m lost.”

“Well, consider yourself found. How can I get it to you?”

She paused. “Hmm, I have today off, so is it okay with you if I come pick it up right now? I need to get out and do some shopping anyway. Hey, want to come along? I know it’s last-minute, but are you free?”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to! I don’t know anyone in New York except for my friend the bride, and she’s obviously busy today. And the wedding isn’t until later, so I really don’t have any plans except for finishing this third cup of coffee.”

“Are you a caffeine addict too?”

“On occasion. You too?”

“Oh yes, I got hooked in medical school. Shane knows not to talk to me in the morning before I’ve had my latte. He says hi, by the way. I told him how we met. So how about I pick you up at your hotel in forty-five minutes? Sound good?”

“Kristina, you are my kind of woman. That sounds perfect, although if we’re going shopping, I should warn you that my ‘get up and go’ sort of got up and went when I broke my ankle.”

“No worries, I’ll take care of you. See you in a flash.”

I looked down at my outfit. I had a date with Kristina Santana? Did I look okay? I was wearing jeans and a cream flared-cuff cashmere turtleneck sweater with a green-and-blue flower embroidered over the left part of the chest. Would it do? Sadly, it was the most excited I’d been about a date in a long time, so I didn’t want to blow it by showing up in a JV outfit.

Later that afternoon, Kristina and I sat in the comfy lounge chairs in the lobby of my hotel, drinking green tea and admiring the fruits of our shopping spree. She’d picked me up in a cab and taken me to several hip stores in SoHo with great deals that were in my price range. I’d bought so many things that we’d picked up a cheap duffel bag for me to store my loot on the flight home.

“Kristina, you are amazing.” I looked at the pile of shopping bags surrounding us and shook my head. “I thought I was a bargain shopper, but you take the cake. I’m going to have to start calling you Bargain Betty.”

She sipped her tea. “Yeah, I know. I love shopping, but I just can’t bring myself to buy things that are obviously overpriced, ya know?”

“I’m the same way, but I shop for bargains because they’re all I can afford. Now you, on the other hand …”

She put her hand up. “I know, I know. But my family was pretty poor when I was a kid, and I still remember what it felt like to worry about money. And now that I
have
money, I prefer to give it to those who really need it, and that group doesn’t tend to include fancy boutique owners.”

“Hey, I’m not knocking it. If you had taken me where the rich and famous of Manhattan shop, I wouldn’t have been able to afford a pair of socks.”

She held up her cup. “I’ll drink to that.”

“And I’ll drink to my new wedding outfit.” I had brought three dresses with me to New York, but Andie was right: did any dress look good with a cast? Uh, that would be a no. So Kristina had helped me pick out something much better: a sleek black pair of semi-flared crepe pants with a slim cream-colored satin band outlining two large pockets in the back. A matching spaghetti-strap top had the same satin band running under the bust and a two-inch slit up each side of the waist. It was simple, elegant, and pretty. And it did a great job of hiding my cast.

“You really want to help me with my hair and makeup?” I said.

“Sure, I’m happy to do it. When I’m not working and Shane’s on the road, I tend to get bored, so this will help fill up my Saturday afternoon.”

“You really don’t have some movie premiere or awards show to attend? Or maybe some lives to save?”

She waved a hand at me. “Girl, your idea of what my life is like is so off base it’s not even funny.”

“So it’s not all glamour and glitz?”

“Not even close. I may fly first class, but I do my own laundry, remember?”

I laughed. “It’s been so fun hanging out with you. I just wish you could be my date to the wedding. I’m not exactly bouncing off the walls with excitement about sitting at the singles table.”

“It won’t be that bad. Maybe there’ll be some good-looking men there.”

“And maybe not.”

“C’mon, don’t be such a pessimist.”

“I know, I know. I’m just not excited about putting that scarlet
S
back on my chest.”

“Waverly, you’re just being dramatic.”

I crossed my arms and sighed. “Maybe I am, but that’s the power of the singles table.”

“You’re being ridiculous. So you didn’t get married, big deal. Do you even want to be married?”

I looked at her and bit my lip. “Well, I, it’s just that everyone else …”

“You shouldn’t be worrying about everyone. You should be worrying about you.”

“But—”

“But nothing.”

“But—”

She grabbed my wrist. “Waverly, I know I haven’t known you that long, but I want you to listen to me.”

I looked at her, my mouth open.

“Nothing bothers me more than a woman who looks for validation in the eyes of others, okay?”

I closed my mouth.

“If you want to get married, that’s great. I think marriage is wonderful. But if for one second you actually believe that I would think
more highly of you
just because you were married, then you’ve really underestimated me.”

“Well, I—”

“I’m not through. I like you, Waverly. I really do. But I can’t deal with women who care too much about what other people think of them. I really can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“Nope. And once someone gets on my bad side, that’s it.”

I smiled. “
That’s it
?”

“Yep, so don’t blow it.” She smiled back.

I laughed. “Are you threatening me?”

She shrugged. “I prefer the term ‘tough love,’ but if you want to see it that way, then yes.”