Page 31

THIRTY

Alex can’t find any oat milk, but she does stumble on a box of something far back inside one of the kitchen cabinets that claims to be flavored like a French vanilla cappuccino. Regina will hate it, Alex is sure, but it will have to do. She puts a coffee pod in the machine and presses the button.

While she waits for it to brew, Alex walks back and forth across the tiny kitchen already overwhelmed by the morning she’s had. On the bulletin board behind the coffeepot, Francis Keen looks out from her front-page obituary photo, a wry smile on her face.

Alex unpins the obit from the bulletin board. The newsprint is already fragile after less than a year. It’s interesting about newspaper, how brittle it becomes. She flips the paper over, to look below the fold where Francis’s obituary is written.

Alex hasn’t read the obituary since it came out last year. Her chest is tight as she rereads the details of Francis’s life: her devotion to the column, her love of gardening and animals and long walks. Alex feels a kinship with Francis all over again. She wishes that Francis were here now to help her through this. Of course, if Francis were here, Alex would be sitting at the Bluebird right now ready to drag herself back to her apartment to write copy for the drug company.

As she keeps reading, something makes her breath catch. She goes back to the beginning of a quote from Howard Demetri and rereads it: “Francis could be impatient at times. She suffered no fools, as my mom always says. But she also had this innate sense of wisdom. She really listened. It was never about placating. If someone was struggling, there was no pity; she always said pity was a waste. There was only empathy with Francis. You really felt like she was living your struggles with you.”

She turns the words over inside her head. Didn’t she just hear them somewhere? They are there, just over the horizon of her memory. If only she could see who was saying them.

“Alex,” Jonathan hisses from the doorway, his eyes wide and panicked. “She’s waiting.”

“No luck finding Howard?” Alex says, hoping he doesn’t notice as she quickly pins the obit back on the board. He shakes his head.

“I am one hundred percent fucked,” he says, his eyelashes fluttering like he might pass out.

“Howard will understand,” Alex assures him. “Besides, it’s not like it’s your fault he’s missing. What are you supposed to do?”

“It’s not Howard I’m worried about,” he says, his eyes darting over his shoulder. “You know Regina’s dad owns this whole company? This whole building! She could have me fired quicker than it takes for her to pick up that black pebble-leather Birkin.”

Alex did not know this. She scrambles to fix the coffee now, for herself as much as for Jonathan, pouring it into a nicer cup and putting it on a saucer.

“Alex, can you just keep her company for a minute? While I go look for him, again?” He looks desperate.

“I don’t think she’ll really want to hang out with me, but I can try.”

“Thank you, Alex. I don’t want her digging around in his office and getting me into trouble.” A sheen has started on his forehead. What is in Howard’s office that could possibly get Jonathan in trouble? She gives him a quick nod. He looks like he might actually hug her for a second, but changes his mind and runs out into the newsroom to search for Howard.

When Alex brings the coffee to Howard’s office, Regina is sitting in his chair, her legs stretched out in front of her. Makes sense now, Alex thinks, that she’d choose his chair and not the one facing his desk that’s for visitors. No wonder Regina acts like she owns the place. She actually does.

Alex takes a deep breath, clenches her teeth into her most gracious smile, and pushes through the glass door. Regina’s perfect face falls when Alex walks in, clearly disappointed she is not Howard or anyone important. “Are you new?” Regina asks derisively, giving Alex a curt once-over as she places the cup before her on the edge of Howard’s desk. “I don’t remember you.”

“Yes, I’m Alex, the new Dear Constance columnist.”

Regina’s face snaps up now, studying Alex. “You’re an interesting choice for a replacement,” she says, leaning back in the chair and looking amused. Regina gestures to the chair across from Howard’s desk. Her ring is hard to miss, a diamond cut to nearly the width of her finger, its facets cleaner and clearer than glass. Alex wonders if Regina knows her husband is no longer wearing his own wedding band.

Not wanting to, Alex drops into the chair. “Thank you?”

Regina narrows her wide-set eyes and gives Alex a tight smile. “You truly came out of nowhere, didn’t you? You walked into this building and went straight to a corner office. Not exactly a conventional career path.” Alex smiles uncomfortably. Regina reminds her of a snake, waiting and watching for her to make a wrong move so that she can strike.

“I wasn’t sure what Howard was doing hiring you at first, but he seemed dead set on it. Strange, really.” She laughs humorlessly. “I’m a bit envious, honestly. I’ve been pestering him to introduce me, and now here you are.” She picks up the coffee and leans back, looking at Alex coolly.

“No. It’s definitely not conventional,” Alex admits, trying not to squirm. “But then again, I’m not sure an advice columnist ever has a very linear career path. I think Howard wanted someone with respect for the column, someone who could grow with it, who could start fresh.”

“So new and with such insight into the mind of the editor in chief.” She smirks like she knows something Alex doesn’t. “You know my father has to approve everyone Howard hires. He’s the reason Howard has this job at all.”

Alex says nothing. Despite her new suspicions about her boss, she has seen glimmers of the man everyone else raves about. His career can’t be entirely due to nepotism.

“It was quite the feat Howard pulled off, convincing my father you were the right one for the job. He didn’t believe Howard that you’d be a good choice.” She shakes her finger at Alex like she’s teasing, but Alex can tell she is not. “You really can write, though. I’ll give you that. Maybe better than Francis could. So far you’ve proven Daddy wrong.”

“I’m so glad,” Alex says humbly. Why is Regina power-tripping and praising her? This whole interaction is feeling like some sort of test. One she isn’t sure she can pass.

Regina laughs bitterly. “Don’t be. He hates to be proven wrong. But don’t you worry. When you succeed, they’ll find a way to take all the credit. That’s just how men are.”

Now her irises dart toward the newsroom, scanning for Howard. She’s nervous, Alex realizes. She wonders how close of a tab Regina keeps on her husband. Is she trying to maintain control over something she’s afraid she’s lost? She probably isn’t used to Howard not being right where she can find him. Regina regains her composure in an instant, becoming hard and confident again.

“My great-grandfather made this the greatest newspaper in the country,” Regina says, glancing around the office smugly as if she had built it herself.

“That’s quite the journalistic legacy for us all to live up to,” Alex says carefully.

Regina snorts, a surprisingly unrefined sound coming out of her perfectly straight little nose. “Oh, please. It wasn’t because he cared about journalism. This is a business first and foremost. He’d have sold it for scrap if he thought that would be more profitable to him, to our family. It’s in our blood, business, negotiation. My husband has benefited from it, and now so have you.” Regina crosses her long legs, leaning back in the chair, enjoying the power dynamic.

“You know, this was actually going to be my desk at one time,” she says, running her hand along the polished mahogany. “At least, I thought it was what I was told.”

“What happened? You seem like you’d be a very formidable boss,” Alex says, surprised.

“Thank you,” Regina says, clearly taking it as a compliment. Looking at her in that chair, who could deny that she has the look of someone destined for power? But there is something cold about her. Regina is too calculating to do much to inspire. And Alex gets the feeling it isn’t bringing people the news that drives her.

“Daddy couldn’t picture a woman overseeing a newspaper. He literally couldn’t imagine it. He never actually said it that way, not out loud. Of course, this was back in the nineties.” She smiles hollowly.

“That must have been hard,” Alex says, feeling a tug of pity for Regina. All the money in the world couldn’t buy her a father’s approval, or a place at the head of the table where she clearly saw herself.

“Oh, I think I made out all right, don’t you?” she snaps, clearly uncomfortable with Alex’s sympathy. “Besides, that’s why I married Howard. I knew he would do a good job. And he has. So I don’t mind, most of the time. What’s that old adage, ‘behind every good man’ and all that crap?” Is she saying she married Howard to keep the family business in the family?

“We all have to make our compromises, don’t we, Alex ?” she says, emphasizing the name. “Brave choice for a girl. Family name, I assume?” Regina feels vulnerable, Alex thinks. She has shared more than she wanted to—Alex has that effect on people. And now Regina is turning the tables on her once again. Still, Alex’s throat goes dry as she tries to formulate a response. She is saved at the last second by Jonathan, who appears leading a chagrined-looking Howard Demetri hustling back toward his office.

Thank you, Jonathan mouths at Alex, who gives a grateful nod.

“Oh, look, here he is,” Alex says eagerly, standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure you have a lot to sort out.”

“Lovely,” Regina says. She doesn’t give Alex another glance as she too stands up, her fingers trailing along the desk as she moves to the other side, relinquishing Howard’s chair.

As Howard approaches his office, Alex watches the color drain from his face.