Will cupped her elbow, guiding her toward the exit. "No. Actually, I think I might take a nap. Aaron doesn't arrive until tomorrow. It might be the last chance I have for some time alone. I want to take advantage of it."
Will and his dorm mate, Aaron Levy, had met through the Internet during the summer. Though they hadn't met in person, Will assured her they'd get along just fine. They were studying to become veterinarians and both shared an avid love of baseball.
"Better set your alarm," Lin suggested. Will slept like the dead.
"Good idea." He gave her a hug, then stepped back, his gaze suddenly full of concern. "You'll be okay on your own for a while?"
Lin patted her son's arm. "Of course I will. This is my first trip to the city. There are dozens of things to do. I doubt I'll have a minute to spare. Though I don't think I'll do any sightseeing today, since I made an appointment to have my hair and nails done at the hotel spa."
Will laughed. "That's a first. You never do that kind of stuff. What gives?"
"It's not every day a mother sends her son off to college." She gently pushed him away. "Now go on with you, or there'll be no time to relax. I'll see you at seven."
Will waved. "Seven, then."
Lin gave him a thumbs-up sign, her signal to him that all was a go. She pushed the glass door open and stepped outside. The late-afternoon sun shone brightly through the oak trees, casting all sorts of irregular shapes and shadows on the sidewalk. The autumn air was cool and crisp. Lin walked down the sidewalk and breathed deeply, suddenly deliriously happy with the life she'd made for herself. She stopped for a moment, remembering all the struggles, the ups and downs, and how hard she'd worked to get to where she was. Abundant, fulfilled, completely comfortable with her life, she picked up her pace, feeling somewhat foolish and silly for her thoughts. She laughed, the sound seemingly odd since she was walking alone, no one to hear her. That was okay, too. Life was good. She was happy, Will's future appeared bright and exciting. The only dark spot in her life was her father. Her mother had died shortly after Lin had moved into Mrs. Turner's garage apartment. She'd had to read about it in the obituaries. Lin had called her father, asking how her mother had died. He told her she'd fallen down the basement steps. She suspected otherwise but knew it would be useless, possibly even dangerous to her and her unborn child, if she were to pry into the circumstances surrounding her mother's death. She'd tried to establish a relationship with her father on more than one occasion through the years, and each time he'd rebuffed her, telling her she was the devil's spawn. Her father now resided in Atlanta, in a very upscale nursing home, at her expense. Lin was sure his pure meanness had launched him into early onset Alzheimer's.
Lin thought it was time for her to proceed at her own leisurely pace, kick back, and totally relax for the first time in a very, very long time.
Lin continued to ponder her life as she walked down the sidewalk toward a line of waiting taxis. After ten years of working at Jack's Diner, when she'd learned that Jack and Irma were considering closing the place, she'd come up with a plan. Though she'd skimped and saved most of her life, for once she was about to splurge and do something so out of character that Jack had thought she'd taken temporary leave of her senses. She'd offered him a fifty-thousand-dollar down payment, a cut of the profits, and a promissory note on the balance if they would sell her the diner. It took all of two minutes for Jack and Irma to accept her offer. Since they'd never had children and didn't think they'd have a chance in hell of selling the diner given the local economy, closing the doors had seemed their only option.
Lin laughed.
She'd worked her tail off day and night and most weekends to attract a new clientele, a younger crowd with money to burn. She'd applied for a liquor license and changed the menu to healthier fare while still remaining true to some of the comfort foods Jack's was known for, such as his famous meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Within a year, Jack's was booked every night of the week, and weekends months in advance. From there, she started catering private parties. With so much success, she'd decided it was time to add on to the diner. In addition to two large private banquet rooms that would accommodate five hundred guests when combined, she added three moderately sized private rooms for smaller groups. The remodeling was in its final stages when she'd left for New York the day before. She'd left Sally, her dearest friend and manager, in charge of last-minute details.
Lin quickened her pace as she saw that the line of taxis at the end of the block had dwindled down to three. She waved her hand in the air to alert the cabbie. Yanking the yellow-orange door open, she slid inside, where the smell of stale smoke and fried onions filled her nostrils. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "The Helmsley Park Lane." She'd always wanted to say that to a New York cab driver. Though it wasn't the most elite or expensive hotel in the city, it was one that had captured her imagination over the years. Its infamous owner, known far and wide by the well-deserved epithet the Queen of Mean, had been quite visible in the news media when Lin was younger, especially when she'd been tried and convicted for tax evasion, extortion, and mail fraud, and had died just over a week before.
Through blasts of horns, shouts from sidewalk vendors hawking their wares, and the occasional bicyclist weaving in and out of traffic, Lin enjoyed the scenery during the quick cab ride back to the hotel. New York was unlike any city in the world. Of course, she hadn't traveled outside the state of Georgia, so where this sudden knowledge came from, she hadn't a clue, but still she knew there was no other place like New York. It had its own unique everything, right down to the smell of the city.
The taxi stopped in front of the Helmsley. Lin handed the driver a twenty, telling him to keep the change. Hurrying, Lin practically floated through the turnstile doors as though she were on air. She felt like Cinderella, and the banquet would be her very own ball, with Will acting as her handsome prince. He would croak if he knew her thoughts. Nonetheless, she was excited about the evening ahead.
She dashed to the elevator doors with only seconds to spare. She'd lost track of time, and her salon appointment was in five minutes. They'd asked her to wear a blouse that buttoned in the front so she wouldn't mess up her new do before the banquet. She punched the button to the forty-sixth floor, from which she had an unbelievable view of the city and Central Park. Lin cringed when she thought of the cost but remembered this was just a onetime treat, and she was doing it in style.
She slid the keycard into the slot on the door and pushed the door inward. Overcome by the sheer luxuriousness, she simply stared at her surroundings, taking them in. Lavender walls with white wainscoting, cream-colored antique tables at either end of the lavender floral sofa. The bedroom color scheme matched, though the coverlet on her bed was a deep, royal purple. She raced over to the large walk-in closet, grabbed a white button-up blouse, and headed to the bathroom. This, too, was beyond opulent. All marble, a deep Jacuzzi tub, a shower that could hold at least eight people, thick, soft, lavender bath towels and bars of lilac soaps and bath beads placed in crystal containers gave Lin such a feeling of luxury, and it was such a novel feeling, she considered staying in the room her entire trip. She laughed, then spoke out loud. "Sally would really think I've lost my marbles." She'd discussed her New York trip with her, and they'd made a list of all the must-see places. If she returned empty-handed, Sally would wring her neck. She'd bring her back something special.
They'd practically raised the kids together, and Sally felt like the older sister she'd never had. And she'd bring Elizabeth, Sally's daughter, something smart and sexy. She'd opted to attend Emory University in Atlanta instead of leaving the state as Will had. Sally told her she was glad. Not only did she not have to pay out-of-state tuition, but Lizzie was able to come home on the weekends. She would graduate next year. Where had the time gone?
She hurried downstairs to the spa for her afternoon of pampering.
Three hours later, Lin returned to her room to dress for the banquet. The hairstylist had talked her i
nto a pedicure and a facial. After an afternoon of being catered to, she felt like royalty. Of course, it all came at a price, one so high she didn't dare give it another thought, or she'd have such a case of the guilts that she'd ruin the evening for herself and Will. No, she reminded herself again, this was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. As she had explained to Will, it wasn't every day that he went away to college. Besides, she wanted to look her best at the banquet, knowing there would be many well-to-do parents attending with their children. No way did she want to cause Will any embarrassment just because she was a small-town hick who ran a diner. Her accomplishments might mean something in Dalton, but here in New York City she would just be seen as a country bumpkin trying to keep up with the big-city folk, even though her net worth these days could probably match that of many of New York's movers and shakers.
Discarding her self-doubts, Lin took her dress out of its garment bag. She'd ordered it from a Macy's catalog four months ago. She slid the black, long-sleeved silk dress over her head, allowing it to swathe her slender body. Lin looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. With all the skipped meals and extra work at the diner, she'd lost weight since purchasing the dress. The curve-hugging dress emphasized her tiny waist. She twirled around in front of the mirror. Not bad for an old woman, she thought.
"Shoot, I'm not that old." She cast another look in the mirror and slipped her feet into her ruby red slingbacks she'd been dying to wear since she'd purchased them two years ago. Lin remembered buying them on a trip to Atlanta as a prize to celebrate her first million. On paper, of course, but still it was monumental to her, since she'd clawed her way to the top. It hadn't been all rainbows and lollipops, either.
Clipping on the garnet earrings Sally and Irma had given her for her thirtieth birthday, she returned to the mirror for one last look before heading downstairs.
Five-foot-three, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, Lin scrutinized her image. The stylist had flat-ironed her long blond hair, assuring her that it was the current style, and, no, she was not too old to wear her hair down. Her face had a rosy glow courtesy of Lancome and a facial. The manicurist had given her a French manicure, telling her it, too, was "in vogue." After leaving the spa, she returned to her room with a few makeup tricks under her belt. Plus, her hairstylist had sashayed back and forth, showing her the fashionable way to strut her stuff so that she'd be noticed when making an entrance. While that was the last thing on her mind, she'd had a blast with the women, more than she cared to admit. Lin had confessed that she hadn't had time for such things as a girl, but she hadn't explained why.
She glanced at her watch. Six-fifteen. It was time for Cinderella to hail her carriage.
"Get off it!" If she continued thinking along those lines, she would have to commit herself.
Lin visualized her mental checklist. Purse, lipstick, wallet, cell phone, and keycard. All of a sudden her hands began to shake, and her stomach twisted in knots. It wasn't like she would be the only parent there. Unsure why she was so jittery, she shrugged her feelings aside, telling herself she simply wanted to make a good impression on Will's professors and classmates. Plus, she wasn't on her own turf, and that in and of itself had the power to turn her insides to mush.
Instead of exiting through the turnstile doors, Lin allowed the doorman to open the door for her. Discreetly, she placed a twenty in his hand and hoped it was enough. Sally told her you had to tip everyone for everything in the city. Lin calculated she'd be broke in less than a year if she remained in New York.
"Thank you, ma'am," the elderly man said as he escorted her to a waiting taxi.
Okay, that was worth the twenty bucks. She would've hated to chase down a cab in the red heels.
The inside of the taxi was warm. Lin offered up a silent prayer of thanks that there were no strange odors permeating the closed-in space. She would hate to arrive at the banquet smelling like cigarettes and onions.
More blaring horns, shouts, and tires squealing could be heard. Lin enjoyed watching the throngs of people on the streets as the driver managed to weave through the traffic. Lord, she loved the hubbub, but she didn't think she could tolerate it on a daily basis.
Poor Will. She smiled. Not poor Will. After the slow pace of Dalton, he would welcome this. It was one of the many reasons he chose to attend NYU in the first place. He'd wanted a taste of the big city. Lin thought he was about to get his wish and then some.
Twenty minutes later, the cab stopped in front of the building where the banquet was being held. She offered up two twenties, telling the driver to keep the change.
"Do you want me to pick you up later?" the driver asked as he jumped out to open her door. Lin thought the tip must have been a tad too generous.
"Uh, I'm not sure. Do you have a card?" she asked.
He laughed. "No card, lady, but if you want a return ride, you gotta ask for it."
"Of course. Midnight. Be here at midnight." Now she was starting to sound like Cinderella.
"Will do."
Her transportation taken care of, Lin stepped out into the cool night air.
A SPECIAL INTERVIEW WITH FERN MICHAELS
QUESTION: With so many novels of yours published--many of which are New York Times best-sellers--did you ever imagine you would have such a prolific and successful career as a writer? How did you first get started? What put you on the path to becoming an author?
FERN MICHAELS: Never in a million years did I imagine I would be where I am today. I think I knew someway, somehow, that I was going to write something someday in the fourth grade when I wrote a story about a tadpole and the teacher gave me a big red A. What put me on the path to writing years and years later was when my youngest son went off to kindergarten and my husband told me I had to get a job. Being a wife and mother did not qualify me to go into the outside workforce. Plus, and most important, I didn't have a car to get to and from work. So I thought I would try my hand at writing a book. It was that simple. What was even more amazing was that the storytelling came easy to me. Please note, I did not say the writing came easy--it was the storytelling part that worked for me.
QUESTION: Razor Sharp marks the fourteenth book in the Sisterhood series. When you started the series with the first seven books, did you ever think it would become so successful, and you'd still be writing about the Ladies of Pinewood so many years later?
FERN MICHAELS: I've kept the series going because so many fans wrote and asked me to continue. But even I had withdrawal from the Sisterhood when I finished what I thought was the last one with number seven [Free Fall] and had a long break before finally starting to write Hide and Seek. I lived with those characters during the first seven books for so long they were part of me. The bottom line was, those wonderful characters were not ready to ride off into the sunset, and I made the decision to continue because there were so many more stories in my head that needed to play out.
QUESTION: What is it about the characters in your Sisterhood novels that allows for you to connect so deeply with readers, and how did you first conceive of these women on your pages? Is there any thread of you in any of these characters?
FERN MICHAELS: I have a lot of friends and meet a lot of people, and as women do, we moan and groan about injustices we see and experience along the way. One would say, boy, if I could just get even in some small way, or, somehow that guy/gal shouldn't be able to get away with this or that! Then I would sit down and plot all these different revenge theories that maybe would work or maybe wouldn't, but since it is all fiction, these gals could do whatever, and I could control the outcome. The "Sisters" all kept reminding me I was a storyteller. In the end, I was convinced that the woman hadn't been born yet who didn't want some sort of revenge in her life. I just ran with it. The seven women of the Sisterhood and the new characters that I developed along the way are composites of those same friends, family, and to some extent some of my neighbors. Even the guys. Is there any thread of me in those characters? Oh yeah! In every single one.
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sp; QUESTION: To the disappointment of many fans, Final Justice was going to be the "second end" to the Sisterhood series. But to everyone's delight, the stories keep coming. When will you decide to end this successful series, and what have the reactions of your fans been?
FERN MICHAELS: To end the series after Final Justice was my original intention because twelve books is a lot in a series. But...remember now, I am a storyteller and I still have more stories swirling around in my head. When I sent off Final Justice to my publisher, I stood at the FedEx place holding the box and felt physically sick. I thought I was going to cry. It was like saying good-bye to a group of my best friends that I was never going to see again. I went home in such a funk I made a pot of coffee and drank it all...black. Then I was so wired up I didn't know what to do. When I don't know what to do, I write. I posted a letter to my readers on my website and let it run for ten days. I asked my readers if they wanted me to end the series. I got over three thousand replies. All but twenty-two wanted me to continue it. Of the twenty-two, eleven of them said no only because they thought I wouldn't write other books. But I assured them that I am still writing non-Sisterhood books, including Mr. and Miss Anonymous, the upcoming Return to Sender, and of course the Christmas novellas I do for Zebra's anthologies every year. You know what they say: it isn't over till the big lady sings.
QUESTION: While many people know you through your writing, not many people are aware of your charitable work, which includes buying bulletproof vests for police dogs and creating day-care centers set up for the needs of single mothers. You also created the Fern Michaels Foundation, which grants scholarships to needy children. How did you get involved in these projects, and why is philanthropy such an important part of your life?
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