Perfect on Paper: The (Mis)Adventures of Waverly Bryson

by Maria Murnane

I plopped down on the bed. “Four o’clock already? Good lord. Way to waste an entire day. We barely have any time left for shopping!”

  Andie sat down next to me. “Are you kidding? You think spending four hours at a fancy spa, for free, is a waste?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Look at me, already taking this princess thing for granted.” I pulled my cell phone out of my backpack and was about to stick it into my shoulder bag when I saw that I had a new voicemail.

  “Hi, Waverly, it’s Kristina. Happy birthday! How was the party last night? I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier, but I’ve been slammed at the hospital. Shane and I are both free tonight though, so we were wondering if you’d like to get together for dinner. Give me a call when you get this message, okay? Bye.”

  “Darn it,” I said. I’d called Kristina a few days earlier to let her know I was going to be in town.

  “What’s the problem?” McKenna said.

  “That was Kristina. She and Shane invited us to dinner tonight, but I can’t go. Why did I tell Tracy I would give up my one Saturday night in New York?”

  “Because you’re a good person, that’s why,” McKenna said.

  I groaned and put my head between my knees. “You’re right, you’re right. But still, frick, frick, and more frick.”

  “Huge bummer though,” McKenna said. “Hunter would totally flip if I had dinner with Shane Kennedy.”

  I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “Okay … let’s get going, missy and missy, or we’re going to missy out on what little remains of this beautiful day. I’ll call Kristina from the road.”

  We headed out into the crisp October sun and decided to walk around the neighborhood a bit. In our drunken stupor the night before we’d seen some boutiques we wanted to check out.

  We made it about two blocks before detouring into the very first coffee place we saw. On the way outside I called Kristina and held the phone up to my ear, then looked at the huge latte in my other hand. “Have you ever noticed that you’re like a tractor beam for hungover people?” I said to the cup.

  “Hey, Waverly, how’s it going?” she said.

  “Hi, Kristina. It’s going great. How are you?”

  “I’m good, just curious about this crazy singles auction you mentioned in your message the other day. Was it fun? And are you free for a birthday dinner tonight? Shane would like to see you, too.”

  I bit my lip. “I wish I could, but apparently the guy who bid on me couldn’t stick around for the party last night, so now I’m stuck having dinner with him tonight. Can you do lunch or dinner tomorrow instead?” It all sounded so ridiculous.

  “Hmm … we’ve got plans tomorrow,” she said. “What time is your date? Maybe we could meet you for a drink before? Where are you staying?”

  “He’s picking me up at seven thirty, so that might work. We’re staying at the Plaza. Would meeting there for a drink around six thirty work for you?”

  “Let me check with Shane. Hold on a sec.”

  I looked at my watch. It was already nearly four thirty.

  Kristina came back on the line. “Okay, that works. We’ll meet you in the Oak Room bar at the Plaza at six thirty. Sound good?”

  “Perfect, see you then.”

  I closed my phone and turned to McKenna and Andie. “Did you catch that?”

  “Six thirty,” McKenna said.

  “At the hotel,” Andie said.

  I nodded. “Yep, but I guess that sort of squashes our shopping spree,” I said.

  “No biggie. We have all day tomorrow, and I’m too lazy to try on clothes right now anyway,” Andie said.

  “How about we head up to Central Park and lie in the sun for a bit before getting you ready for your big date?” McKenna said.

  “That sounds absolutely perfect,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  An hour and a half later, we were back in our suite. I was in a towel with wet hair, on my knees, and rummaging through my suitcase to find something suitable to wear. I’d brought only one fancy dress with me, which I’d already worn, and everything else I had was either business casual for the following week’s press interviews or super casual for lounging around and shopping. I had inexplicably forgotten to pack a cute outfit for what was supposed to be my big Saturday night out with McKenna and Andie. What was wrong with me?

  Tracy had said my date would be picking me up in a limousine, so I figured the appropriate attire required a little more effort than jeans and flip-flops. Plus they were going to take our picture for the next week’s issue of People. Oops.

  “I have nothing to wear! N-A-D-A!” I yelled from the bedroom.

  McKenna and Andie were sprawled out on the couch in the living room watching a DVD of Save the Last Dance and eating Pringles from the minibar.

  “Sorry, can’t help you and your shrimpy body!” McKenna yelled.

  “Sorry, can’t help you and your Amazon body!” Andie yelled.

  We were definitely the Three Bears, which totally sucked, because they both had really cute clothes that would never fit me.

  After several failed combinations, I finally walked into the living room wearing a pair of lightweight black capri pants, a red sleeveless button-down cotton shirt, and a pair of black flats with those miniature socks that make it look like you’re not wearing socks. I had my hair down and wore a thick black headband.

  “How about this?” I said.

  Andie paused the movie and looked up at me. “You look like Skipper, Barbie’s younger sister.”

  I frowned. “You suck.”

  “You asked.” She laughed and turned back to the TV.

  I walked back into the bedroom and stripped, throwing the pants and top into the growing pile of clothes on the floor next to my suitcase. I looked over at the clock on the nightstand. It was six fifteen, and I was still in my underwear. Crap. What was I going to wear?

  Then I remembered a cute little cotton tank top I’d stuffed with my lingerie into the upper lining of my suitcase. I ran over and pulled it out. It was simple and black, with thin spaghetti straps and a built-in bra. Definitely dress-up-able. Then I headed back over to the pile of discarded clothes and began to dig. I thought I had a skirt in there somewhere that might work … where was it … c’mon, honey … throw me a bone here … bingo!

  I pulled out the dark pink skirt with a thick black stripe around the hem. It was an A-frame cut and fell a couple inches above the knee. I had passed it over before because I couldn’t find anything to go with it, but this black tank might do the trick. I put them both on and stood in front of the mirror. Not bad. Then I dug through my shoes and found a pair of black open-toed slides with two-inch heels. I slipped them on and looked in the mirror again. Not bad at all. All I needed now was some jewelry. I ran into the other bathroom and rummaged through McKenna’s jewelry sack. She practically never wore jewelry, but she had some beautiful stuff. I found a thin silver chain with a tiny round diamond pendant. I slipped it around my neck and then put on my own diamond stud earrings. I looked at the full-length mirror. Yes! It was wrinkled, but it was definitely a cute outfit.

  I walked back into the living room and held my arms out to the side. “Okay, Joan and Melissa, is this better?”

  Andie paused the movie again and looked up.

  “Well done. Good girl!” She sat up and clapped.

  “You look great,” McKenna said.

  “Thank you, thank you very much.” I curtsied, then stripped. “Hey, Mackie, I borrowed your diamond necklace. And can one of you please run an iron over these while I fix my hair and makeup? Thanks loves, you’re peaches.” I threw the skirt and tank top at them and ran back into the bedroom.

  At six forty we headed downstairs to meet Shane and Kristina. Hunter had begged McKenna to call him and then keep her phone on so he could listen in. She had told him the wedding was off.

  The bar was pretty empty, so we spotted them right away. Kristina stood up and trotted over to greet us. “Hey there, it’s gre
at to see you!” She gave me a hug. Her shiny black hair was pulled back into a low bun.

  “Hi, Kristina, it’s great to see you, too. These are my friends McKenna and Andie from San Francisco.”

  “Ahhh, the famous Mackie and Andie. It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about both of you.” She moved behind us and gave us each a gentle shove in the back. “Okay, ladies, let’s get a move on and go meet my husband. The clock is ticking before Waverly’s big date.” We headed over to where Shane was sitting.

  He stood up when we reached the bar. “Hi, Waverly, how’s it going?” He leaned down to give me a hug.

  I hugged him back on my tiptoes. “Hi, Shane. It’s great to see you. Were you always this tall?”

  “Yep, it must be you. Are you standing in a hole?” Then he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “So have you found any more grey hairs?”

  “Watch it, Mr. Kennedy,” I whispered back. Then I playfully pushed him away and introduced him to McKenna and Andie.

  “Can I get you ladies a drink?” Shane said.

  I saw that he and Kristina each had a glass of white wine in front of them. I looked at my watch. It was barely six forty-five. Hmm.

  “What the hell? I’ll have a glass of merlot,” I said.

  McKenna looked at me and laughed. “Think that will help with your hangover?”

  I held out my hand. “I’m sorry, have we met? I’m Waverly Bryson.”

  “Make that two glasses,” Andie said.

  McKenna looked at her and laughed. “You too?”

  “Hair of the dog, you know,” Andie said with a shrug.

  “All right, make it three glasses,” McKenna said.

  “That’s my girl,” I said.

  “Big night last night?” Kristina said.

  The three of us nodded.

  “Oh, yes,” McKenna said.

  “We were overserved,” I said.

  “It wasn’t our fault,” Andie said.

  Shane handed us each a glass and sat down. “So what exactly is the deal with this date tonight? Is it some sort of reality show?”

  I nearly choked on my wine. “Oh, God no, it’s just a singles auction for charity. I was supposed to meet the guy last night right after the auction and have dinner with him then, but he bailed, so now I have to have dinner with him tonight.”

  “So who is he? Did they give you any scoop?” Kristina said.

  “Nada. All I know is that his name is Wendall P. Feldman, and he’s from Dallas,” I said.

  “Wendall Feldman?” Kristina said. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” I said. “And don’t forget the P.”

  “I have to pee,” Andie said, standing up. “Be right back.”

  “What does he look like?” Kristina said.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea. I couldn’t see anything because of the bright lights, and Andie and McKenna couldn’t see him in the crowd either. And then he left.”

  “Did you google him?” Shane said.

  “Is he on Facebook?” Kristina said.

  I lightly pounded my fist on the bar. “Darn it. I didn’t even think of that. And we even have free Internet in our room upstairs, not to mention Andie’s iPhone.”

  “We suck,” McKenna said.

  “Where are you going on your date?” Kristina said.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I honestly know nothing.”

  “The guy bid five thousand dollars,” McKenna said.

  Kristina raised her eyebrows. “Really? Hmm … he must be very interested in you to spend that kind of money,” she said.

  McKenna laughed. “Or interested in getting his picture in People magazine.”

  “Touché,” I said.

  At seven thirty-five, a short grey-haired man in a suit and chauffeur’s cap walked into the bar. He approached our group with a polite smile.

  “Excuse me, is one of you Waverly Bryson?” he said.

  “Yes, sir, that’s me,” I said with a salute.

  He bowed ever so slightly. “My name is Malcolm, and I’ll be your chauffeur for the evening. The limo is waiting for you outside. If you’ll just follow me, we’ll be on our way.”

  I put my drink down and took a deep breath. “So we’ll all meet up after my date is over?” I said to my friends.

  “Yep, call me,” McKenna said. She and Andie had hit it off with Kristina and Shane, so the four of them were going to dinner.

  “Okay.” I quickly reapplied my lipstick and stood up to smooth my skirt.

  “I have to see this,” McKenna said, standing up.

  “Hell yes, we do,” Andie said, following her.

  “Me too.” Kristina grabbed Shane and pulled him off his stool.

  Shane rolled his eyes. “Chicks.”

  The five of us followed the chauffeur out of the bar and into the lobby. Then I turned and pointed at them. “Okay, you can watch, but don’t be all obvious and weird about it, okay? Promise?”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll be quiet as mice. We just want to grab a peek,” McKenna said.

  “I hope he’s not butt,” Andie said.

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Andie. Now get out of here and keep your phone on vibrate so you don’t miss my call, which I will be making the second this dinner is over. We still have a bachelorette party ahead of us.”

  “Bachelorette party? What?” Shane said. “Am I allowed to be here?”

  “Honey, if you’re lucky, we’ll let you be the entertainment. Now shoo, all of you.” I pushed him toward the others, then turned back to Malcolm, exhaled, and bit my lip.

  “Okay, kind sir, show me the way.” I tried to smile.

  “After you, Miss Bryson.” He gestured toward the hotel entrance.

  “Here goes,” I said softly.

  Malcolm opened the lobby door for me, and I saw a black stretch limousine parked outside next to the curb. We walked under the hotel awning down the red carpet toward the sidewalk. I turned my head and saw my friends peering out from a window in the lobby, smiling and waving.

  “Losers,” I mouthed at them.

  I shook my head and then turned forward to face the limousine, but I stepped funny, and my heel slipped on the carpet. I lost my balance and tried to catch myself by holding on to Malcolm’s arm, but he was just out of reach, so I went down like a sack of bricks. My legs flew out from under me, and I fell flat on my back onto the carpet.

  Holy crap.

  “Miss Bryson, are you all right?” Malcolm and two doormen rushed over to help me up.

  I struggled to my feet and smoothed out my skirt. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Totally mortified, but I’ll live,” I said.

  I turned back to the hotel and saw the Four Stooges laughing their heads off from the lobby window. I curtsied and waved to them with a smile. I’d get them back later.

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Miss Bryson?” Malcolm said.

  “Yes, I swear, I’m fine, thanks. Seriously, I’m okay.” I had a massive raspberry on my left elbow that stung like hell, but I was too embarrassed to say anything about it. A Band-Aid would just have to wait.

  “Okay, if you say so. But that was quite a tumble. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

  “I could use a big shot of tequila right about now,” I said under my breath.

  “Pardon?”

  “Um, I said I could use a beach spot in Anguilla right about now.”

  “Couldn’t we all, Miss Bryson. Couldn’t we all.” He tipped his hat and winked, then held out his arm. Malcolm was an okay dude.

  I took his arm, and we started toward the limo. I prayed that Wendall P. Feldman hadn’t witnessed my fall, so I could preserve the air-brushed illusion he probably expected for his five thousand dollars. Man, was he in for a surprise.

  Malcolm opened the passenger door, and I leaned down and poked my head inside.

  “Hi, Waverly, I’m so glad you made it. And you look gorgeous, as always.”

  The voice was so familiar. Could it
be …?

  I turned my head to the back of the limo and gasped.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I sat down inside the limousine and smoothed out my skirt. We started moving, but I felt like my stomach had been left behind on the sidewalk.

  “Hi, Waverly,” he said again.

  I looked at him and blinked twice.

  “Scotty?” Scotty Ryan … from … Dallas?

  I swallowed hard. What?

  He reached over and put his hand on my arm “Are you okay? You look a little startled.”

  Startled? Hellooo? Can you say understatement?

  I could barely speak. “No, I’m fine, really. What are you …?” It came out as a squeak.

  “It’s great to see you, by the way. And are you really okay? That was quite a fall,” he said.

  So much for the airbrushed illusion.

  “Oh, I’m okay. A little embarrassed, but I’m fine.”

  “Good, because I need you in top form for this date tonight. I’ve waited a long time for this moment, and I don’t want you wimping out on me.”

  I touched my right earring and twisted it. “But Scotty, I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t understand what? Hey, want some champagne?” He pulled a bottle out of an ice bucket and held out a crystal flute.

  I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

  “Are you sure? It’s Dom Perignon.”

  On second thought, champagne suddenly seemed like a good idea. “Okay, why not?” I reached for the flute.

  “Scotty?” I said softly.

  “Yes, Waverly?”

  “Um, aren’t you, uh, you know …?”

  “Aren’t I what?”

  “You know …”

  He smiled. “Shorter than you are?”

  I laughed. “No, you know … gay?”

  His smile turned into a grin. Then he winked.

  I was at a loss for words.

  He lightly touched my leg. “I’ll explain everything. Just wait a minute.”

  He touched a button to lower the black divider between us and the driver.

  “Malcolm, could you please pull over for a minute at Park and Sixty-second? I need to pick something up,” he said.