Ralph Watson bustled into the room, one of his shirttails hanging out and his arms full of papers that looked like they were about to fly from his grip. She rushed forward and took them from his arms.
“Thank you, Liz.” He began arranging the papers into stacks on the table while Liz debated whether or not she should tell him about his shirt and the tuft of hair that was sticking straight up on his head. “Would you mind getting me a coffee?”
“Of course not. How do you take it?”
“One sugar, plenty of cream.”
She smiled as she prepared his cup. At least this was something she knew how to do. “Should I offer Mr. Mellen any refreshments when he arrives?”
He didn’t seem to hear her as he slurped his coffee and continued stacking his papers and some very colorful images of space phenomena. She waited another minute in silence, then asked tentatively, “Mr. Watson?”
“Yes?”
“What do you want me to do in today’s meeting?”
“Oh, right. Sorry! Well, I will discuss the preliminary outline with Dr. Mellen and answer any questions and concerns he has. You will need to take notes. What he wants, what I respond, anything left unanswered, where we go from here, etc. Understand?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Taking notes. She could do that. She’d been taking notes for the last six years.
Three hours later, Liz’s hand was cramping and she’d filled more pages than she could count. She made a mental note to bring her laptop to future meetings. Ian Mellen was an eccentric Scottish scientist with a shock of red hair and an accent Liz found difficult to decipher. If she hadn’t practiced on Harper’s Edinburgh family over Christmas, she was sure she’d be completely lost.
Finally, the meeting came to an end and Liz was told to get lunch, then email the notes she’d taken to Watson and copy them to Shankman. Relieved, she dragged herself to the intern room to collect her purse.
“You must be the fresh meat.” A skinny boy in black rimmed glasses and a cheap tie leaned back on two legs of a chair, eating what looked like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
She smiled wearily. “I’m Liz.”
“Isaac. What department are you?”
“Nonfiction, biographies mostly. You?”
“Nonfiction, history.”
Liz nodded and walked toward her bag, too tired and hungry to make idle conversation. Maybe Will had a granola bar in his desk?
“There’s one more of us in non. Serious Asian girl. Watch out.”
“Shut your pie hole, Isaac.”
Liz turned around to face a short girl with spiky black hair and high cheekbones.
“I’m Alice, serious Korean girl,” she said.
“I’m Liz.”
“I’m going to the deli around the corner for lunch. Wanna come?”
“I wanna come!” called Isaac.
“You’re not invited, d-bag.”
Liz looked back and forth between the two, at Isaac’s wide smile and Alice’s gleaming eyes. Assured they didn’t really hate each other, she agreed and followed Alice out of the building.
“Ignore Isaac. He’s annoying but harmless, really,” Alice said as they waited in line at the deli.
“Have you two known each other long?”
“Since fourth grade.”
“Really?”
“We had an unfortunate incident on the monkey bars and were never really friends. We went to different colleges, but both ended up at NYU for grad school. Apparently, the universe has a wicked sense of humor.”
Liz smiled and took her soup and bread to the table. She pulled out her employee handbook and began flipping through it.
“You missed orientation, didn’t you?” Alice asked.
“Yes. I’m trying to get caught up.”
“The most important parts are under schedule and what’s expected of you.”
“Thanks,” Liz said as she flipped through the thin book. “Whoa! We only work nine to four? And we get Fridays off?”
“Yeah, pretty great, huh? Most of the internships aren’t paid so they can only keep us so long. And they probably want to watch the budget on those of us that are paid.”
Liz nodded, mentally planning what to do with her newfound freedom.
The afternoon was spent typing out her notes for Mr. Watson and getting a more in-depth tour from Linda. Linda turned out to be quite chatty and eager to fill Liz in on all the news about the editors she’d be working for. She told her that Dr. Mellen had originally been considered Shankman’s territory, but Mellen liked Watson better so that’s who he got.
Seeing her penchant for gossip and not wanting to be fodder for the rumor mill, Liz knew she would have to be extra careful not to let anyone know who she was married to. She was a little worried that Linda already knew—she had looked at Liz a little too long, like she was trying to place her, and she seemed like the kind of woman who would read the gossip columns. But it had come to nothing and when the tour was over, she breathed a little easier.
At three-forty, Watson handed her a manuscript and told her to read it by Thursday and give him her opinion on whether it was any good or not. She took the thick stack and nodded, praying it wasn’t awful, and dragged herself home.
***
“How was your first day?” Will asked when he found Liz reading in the living room later that evening.
“Good. Hectic, exhausting,” she said as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “And completely bizarre.”
“You know what’s great for de-stressing after a long day,” he said suggestively. She shot him a look and he laughed as he picked up her left foot and began rubbing her arch. She leaned back her head and closed her eyes in pleasure.
“I don’t know why my feet are so sore. I spent most of the day sitting,” she said tiredly. “Who knows what I’ll be doing tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a good start,” he said after a minute. “I remember being completely lost when I started my internships.”
“Really? Where all did you intern?”
“First, for my dad’s company, now my company. I was a general gofer and worked everywhere, starting with the mail room.”
She laughed. “Aw! Poor baby!”
“The next summer I wised up and went to Covington Enterprises. I actually did a couple of summers with them. It’s been surprisingly helpful to know so much about the company with the merger.”
“I can imagine.”
“I ended up back at Taggston, doing one summer in communications, then my final spot was back at HarperCo.”
“Wow. I never realized you could do so many, but I suppose if you do one every summer, they add up.”
“And I started early. So, what do they have you working on? Are you reading a manuscript?”
“Yes. This is about a Native American chief around the time of Jackson’s presidency. I’m supposed to tell the editor if I think it’s any good.”
“Is it?”
“So far, yes. There are so many things I don’t know about that period of history. It’s fascinating, really.”
He smiled and felt a rush of relief at the gleam in her eyes. He really wanted this internship to work out for her. “What do you want to do for dinner?”
Half an hour later, they were sitting in an Asian fusion restaurant a few blocks from their apartment. They chatted and talked easily about their days until Liz mentioned that she sat in on a meeting with Ian Mellen.
“Ian Mellen? The Ian Mellen? The scientist?”
“Yeah, you know who he is?”
“Everyone knows who he is! He’s one of the most famous physicists of our time.”
Liz looked at him wide-eyed. “Well, he’s writing a book for your publishing house. I’m sure you could meet him if you wanted to. Maybe you could even get his autograph,” she teased.
“Haha, you laugh now, but we both know that if you had a chance to meet Robert Frost, you’d pee your pants.”
“Yeah, but he was an amazingl
y gifted poet!”
He raised his brows and tilted his chin down in a so-your-point-is gesture.
“All right, I see your point. But still, it is awfully cute that you’re fangirling over a scientist.”
He shook his head and went back to his food, seriously considering the idea of arranging a meeting.
32
Valentine’s
February
10 Months Married
Five weeks into her internship, Liz thought she might actually collapse from exhaustion. Thankfully, no one had any idea she was married to the owner of the whole thing and she was able to have a normal intern experience. She was talked down to by mean executives, commiserated with the other interns, and ran errands until she thought her feet were actually broken. She knew her way around the art department and had met a nice designer who showed her how a book cover was made from initial design to final production. Copy editors knew her by name and publicity was a department she hated going to, but she came to understand fairly quickly.
The first acquisition meeting she sat through had been so fascinating, she couldn’t take notes fast enough. She’d learned to keep a slim MP3 recorder on her at all times so that when things got interesting, she could just record what was going on around her. She’d tried using her phone once and had been mortified when it began singing What’s New Pussycat in the middle of an intern meeting. She internally cursed Laura and her twisted sense of humor that thought that song was an appropriate ringtone and quickly turned the phone off.
Mr. Higgins informed her that phones were prohibited and held the entire meeting while she put it away in her purse. She hadn’t been so embarrassed since she’d tripped over a cord and her skirt flew over her head in front of the entire class in fifth grade.
She spent all day Monday through Thursday at Taggston Publishing, doing whatever needed to be done, and most evenings were spent reading manuscripts. She was able to escape upstairs a couple of times to have lunch with Will in his office, but not as often as she’d like. Thankfully, their social calendar was pretty light this time of year, but she knew that would only last a few more weeks. Once spring hit, things would ramp up again.
She had her regular weekly date nights with Will, which she sometimes thought were the only thing keeping her sane, and she had to meet with her advisor at Columbia every other week to discuss her internship, plus write the odd essay about various experiences. She was still working as a writing assistant for her former professor whose book was being launched the day before Valentine’s.
Liz was at his apartment or office all day Fridays and at least one night a week, working on his schedule with his editor and publicist, drafting statements and helping him prep for interviews. She told him over and over again that she wasn’t really trained for that sort of thing and that he should find someone more qualified, but he insisted that he was comfortable with her and that it would take ages to break in someone new.
So she wrote guest blog spots for him and transcribed his answers to questions journalists emailed him. She even sat in on a few meetings with his editor, a rival house of Taggston’s, and she had to admit that she was learning a lot from the entire process. She was sure that by the end of this semester, she would know more about the publishing business than she’d ever imagined.
She hadn’t seen her friends in weeks, though she still talked to Sheila and Angie through texts and calls, and she’d managed to squeeze in coffee with Laura once. She’d become friends with fellow intern Alice, who turned out to be whip-smart with a sharp sense of humor, and she was somewhat friendly with Isaac, who was annoying but endearing in a way, much like she thought a younger brother might be. She hadn’t seen Jenny in nearly a month and it felt odd to be so removed from her closest sibling.
After the book is out, we’ll have time to reconnect, she told herself. Right now, she needed to focus on finding something to wear for the party for the professor’s book launch. She should probably go shopping, but she didn’t really have the time. She had a semi-free night and a closet full of great clothes, she’d just have to find a cocktail dress amongst them and make it work.
**
William was having a long day. He’d been putting in crazy hours and dealing with problems nonstop for weeks. The redesign he’d been so worried about last summer was finally prepared to launch and everyone was scrambling to have everything ready in time. He’d taken two short business trips and gotten home after ten nearly every night for the last three weeks. To make matters worse, he and Liz had barely had any time together.
They saw each other on their weekly dates, but twice now he’d had to go back to the office after dinner, and Liz had even gone to meet with the professor afterwards once. They hadn’t had sex in two weeks and he really missed it. It made him feel connected to her in a way nothing else did, and he was beginning to feel irritable at the lack of affection.
The book launch party was tomorrow night and Valentine’s the day after. He’d asked Evelyn to put in a call to the florist and knew Liz could expect a very nice bouquet. He had a surprise planned, but he hadn’t had time to do much else in the way of an actual gift. He stretched behind his desk and looked at the clock. Eight fifteen. If he left now, he could stop by La Perla on his way home. With new found energy, he put on his coat and headed out the door.
He walked into the apartment an hour later to the smell of Maria’s meatball soup and the sound of feminine laughter coming from Liz’s study. He made himself a bowl of soup as Liz and Laura came into the kitchen.
“Hey babe!” Liz said cheerfully. “How was your day?”
“Great. What are you two up to?”
“Laura’s helping me choose an outfit for tomorrow’s opening,” Liz replied.
Laura smiled and said hello to Harper, then she and Liz quickly grabbed a drink and went back down the hall to her room.
Harper sighed. Any ideas he’d had of sleeping with his wife tonight were clearly not going to happen. Make that two weeks and one day without sex, he thought. He closed the fridge with a clank and popped open his beer, mentally preparing to spend another night alone.
**
The book launch was being held at a historic hotel, the kind with crystal chandeliers and original wainscoting and the tiniest bit of a dark Victorian vibe. The flowers were elegant and the music was sultry and classic. Overall, the entire party had a smoky, mysterious feeling. Liz was wearing a red dress with a dangerously high slit and black heels that made her calves look like an Olympic runner’s. Her hair was pulled over one shoulder, large curls tumbling past her neckline. Will was in a sleek black suit with a red patterned tie the same shade as Liz’s dress. Together, they were a striking pair.
They were so busy greeting friends and colleagues that they weren’t able to meet the author before he was introduced. All Liz had told him was that he was from Spain and taught romantic literature at NYU. He was expecting a balding older man and a book of poetry. What he saw when the editor called for everyone’s attention to introduce him was a very attractive man in his mid-forties, his full head of black hair speckled lightly with grey, his tan skin beginning to line in what could be called a distinguished way. He was broad shouldered and muscular, and Will began to realize he’d been completely wrong about the professor. The atmosphere of the location, the style of the author, and, he realized belatedly, the blood red cover of the book all had a theme.
“What’s this book about again?” Will whispered to Liz.
“It’s about a young woman who gets involved with an older man and all of the changes that happen in her life as a result. A sort of coming of age story, set between New York and Barcelona.”
Will nodded.
“It highlights the changing role of sex in literature and in recent history. It’s very good—you should read it,” she added.
Will listened to the professor thank everyone for coming and his editors for their valuable assistance. His eyes widened slightly when he thanked Elizabeth by name, then
said something in Spanish that Will couldn’t understand, but several people around him could and the women were sighing and holding their hands over their hearts. Even Liz had a soft expression on her face he wasn’t too thrilled about.
“What did he say?” Will whispered to Liz. She waved him off and gestured that she was trying to listen.
The professor spoke for a few more minutes before beginning a short reading of the book. By the third paragraph, Will’s eyes were bulging. What he was hearing was a mixture of cryptic metaphors and extremely suggestive prose. Lita, the heroine, was having all sorts of new and foreign thoughts and feelings and her mind was wandering to very strange places. Once her new lover entered the scene, things became very sensual very quickly.
“This is from chapter twelve,” Liz whispered. Will nodded, not knowing how that was supposed to help him understand anything.
The professor only read one more page, then left the small stage to enthusiastic applause. Liz grabbed Will’s hand and tugged him over to where the author was standing near a display of his book.
“Lizabeta, my angel!” Liz was quickly kissed on both cheeks and hugged tightly.
“Marco! I can’t believe it’s finally here!” Her smile was broad and genuine as he squeezed her tightly. “Let me introduce you to William.”
The professor released her reluctantly and smiled politely to Harper. “Will, this is Mark Basurto. Mark, this is my husband William Harper.” She smiled happily as she introduced the men, unaware of their appraising looks toward each other.
Harper said hello and shook Mark’s hand, and before too much could be said, Mark was being greeted and pulled away by editors and well-wishers. Liz was talking to a fellow student so Will took the opportunity to pick up the professor’s book. His eyes widened when he saw the dedication.
To my muse, my fair Elizabeta.
He spent the remainder of the party exchanging small talk with his few acquaintances there and reading snatches of Mark’s book when he could. The whole way home, Liz was smiling and giddy. She practically floated down the hallway and she hummed as she put her coat away and made her way to her room to change.
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