“Whatever you like. Call me Liv if you want. I wanted to talk to you about the article you e-mailed last night. You sent it awfully late.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she said, her light eyes widening. “I was feeling so, like, inspired, and I didn’t want to stop so I was up all night working on it. Next time I can wait to send it ‘til the morning.”
“No, don’t worry about that. I’m up late,” I said, waving my hand. “I’m just glad you got it in early. Makes everyone’s job easier.”
“Oh!” she said, covering her mouth with her fingertips. “I thought I was in trouble.”
“Nope. Anyway, I liked the article, but there are some things I want fixed. I’ll e-mail my notes. In the meantime, Lisa and I will be taking over the annual Most Eligible issue. I’d like it to be the best selection of bachelors and bachelorettes that we can possibly find. Can you start narrowing?”
“Sounds good,” Serena said as she made notes on a yellow pad. “How do I know what to look for? Like, looks-wise or . . . like . . . occupations?”
I gave her a tense smile, wondering if I’d given instructions to the right person, and made a mental note to follow-up later. “Grab issues from the last few years to get an idea of what we’re looking for. I know they’ve weeded out people already but this year I want the absolute best options out there. No friends-of-friends or relatives. Set up interviews with the top picks so Lisa and I can decide from there.”
“K,” she said. Even though it was just a letter, her voice wavered and her eyebrows met in the middle.
“I was an intern once too.” I gave her my best attempt at a reassuring face. “You’ll figure it out.”
~
“Hello, dear,” Mack said with a doting smile as I entered the restaurant that evening. I loved how his smiles deepened the wrinkles by his eyes because they were always genuine.
“Mack,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and then leaning over to his wife Davena.
“How are you, honey?” she asked, her down-home drawl a stark contrast to Mack’s elegant British accent.
“Bill should be here any minute. He’s been at work late every day for the past two weeks, but he’s on his way,” I explained.
“No problem,” Mack said breezily. “Let’s sit and get a drink.” He indicated to the hostess. I let them go ahead and admired how their hands never separated while they maneuvered through the restaurant.
“How’s work?” Davena asked once we were seated.
“Wonderful,” I said, letting her know the news of my potential promotion.
“I knew you’d work your way up quickly,” Davena said. “I never put my stamp on anyone I don’t believe in.”
“Thanks,” I said with a genuine grin. It was Davena’s recommendation to a different senior editor that had secured me the internship years earlier.
“Don’t waste your energy on the competition. If I know you, she’s the one who should be worried,” she added, studying her menu.
“And your mother?” Mack asked. A grey strand dropped over his forehead and he blew it back. “How is she?”
“She’s well.”
“Anything in the works?”
“Sure,” I said lightly. “Isn’t there always?”
He grinned appreciatively. “I always tell everyone what an outstanding writer she is. Brilliant artist,” he mused. “I look forward to her next novel.”
“Well, she certainly has an artist’s temperament,” I muttered.
“You know that Max, from her first novel, was based on me? A sprightly British cad, come to university to terrorize the young ladies of the U.S. of A.”
“Of course she knows that Mack, you remind her incessantly,” Davena teased.
“Oh, rubbish,” he said, giving me a devious smile. “She was quite the girl, your mother. Walked right into the university’s newspaper office and demanded they print her piece on corporate sexism. I knew then that we’d be great friends. No surprise she became editor of that paper soon after. A real go-getter, like our Liv, here.” I frowned, and he laughed. “Oh, there’s Bill.”
I spotted him through the diners and cringed when his elbow accidentally struck a woman in the head. His shirt was gold when he’d left the apartment in the morning, but the restaurant’s lighting turned it mustard.
“I was here on time,” Bill said, breathing hard, “but parking is impossible.” He leaned over and gave me a lingering kiss on the cheek. “Congrats on the job,” he whispered, before turning to Mack and Davena. “What’d I miss?” he asked, dragging his chair out.
“We were just reminiscing about old times,” Mack said. “Here, have some wine.”
“What’s new with you guys?” Bill asked. I looked at him gratefully. He knew how I hated to talk about ‘old times.’
“Well, Mack and I are headed on a last minute trip to the Amalfi Coast, so we’ve been shopping ourselves silly.”
“Correction, she has been shopping herself silly,” Mack interrupted. “I’m just the human credit card.”
“Oh,” Davena said, waving him off. “I only needed a bathing suit to cover my new scar.” She pointed to her side. “No more bikinis for me,” she scowled, “just old lady one-pieces.” I eyed her petite but athletic body – she was the picture of health with olive skin and cropped, wavy blonde hair. Her fiery eyes were surpassed only by her sassy attitude.
Even with the discovery of her breast cancer three years ago, I’d never seen her without a twinkle in her eye. Pity was not a word in her vocabulary, and I’d learned long ago that normalcy was the best medicine.
“You really should go see my best friend Lucy,” I said.
“Which one is Lucy?”
“Her college friend, Mack, try and keep up,” Davena teased.
“Liv and Lucy rushed the same sorority,” Bill said. “When they were accepted, they decided they liked each other better than any of the other girls and dropped out together.”
“Oh, isn’t that sweet.” Mack smiled, ever the romantic.
“She’s a stylist, right?” asked Davena.
“Yes, and she works just across the street from me. I’m sure she can help you find something that’s cute and conservative.”
Davena made a gagging noise. ?
?I hate that word. Me, conservative? No missy.”
“Why do you think she made me move from Dallas?” Mack joked.
“So can you take Liv on this vacation?” Bill asked, nodding in my direction. “This girl needs some sun.”
I pouted. “What? I’m not that bad,” I said, pushing up my sleeve as the table laughed.
“You stay out of the sun, hon,” Davena said. “Fair skin is in, embrace it.”
I laughed and nodded. “Sure it is. Pale is all the rage.”
“You know, Davena, we just finished a case against a doctor who botched a mastectomy and nearly killed the woman.”
“That’s horrid, Bill, I don’t want to hear that.”
I almost rolled my eyes at Bill’s inept social skills.
“Really, dear, how is your mum?” Mack asked me with a lowered voice.
“I haven’t spoken to her much lately,” I confessed. “She says she’s working on a new book but won’t say what exactly. And since Dad no longer owes her alimony, she claims she’s broke. But between a successful career and my father’s support all those years, I just don’t see how that can be.” I found Mack’s company comforting. Because of their history, he knew my mother in a way Bill and my friends couldn’t. “Bill wants to lend her money, but I think it’s bad idea. And we really don’t have it to spare, since we are house hunting.”
“Are you?” he asked, and clapped his hands delightfully. “I’m so happy for you. You really are all grown up, little Livs. I still remember your first birthday – such a fabulous event your mother threw, and you, hardly able to enjoy it. She had that party for herself.” We both laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Davena asked.
“These two are house hunting.”
“Oh, you know Mack and I own quite a bit of property, so we’re nearly experts.”
Bill smiled proudly and launched into a recount of our progress. It was his favorite topic as of late, so I let him talk and nodded at all the right times. Davena was sure to interject when she disagreed with Bill, and I laughed at the irritation on his face. If there’d been an ounce of religion in my household growing up, Mack and Davena would have been my godparents. They’d always been protective and Davena, being a natural know-it-all, didn’t mind pointing out when Bill was wrong.