Page 33

LIA

I did my own make-up for the New York Chronicle’s Notable Knot page, seeing as no one ever looked good in newsprint—and I met their current editor, Tammy Rosenfeld, at a posh coffee shop to talk behind seventeen-dollar lattes by nine.

“It’s really great to meet you!” she said, handing a manicured hand over for me to shake.

I did, and we both sat back down. She’d found us a sunny spot, and had a pad of paper and a Graf von Faber-Castell Perfect Pencil out—an accoutrement I assumed I’d never see again, after boarding school—along with her phone, sitting between us, where I figured it would be a recorder.

“Thanks, I’ve really been looking forward to this,” I told her, and that, at least, was true.

Because she’d taken over Isabelle Selvaggio’s old job, and I was wondering how much she knew about her predecessor.

“Shall we start?”

“Sure.”

She asked me about our venue—a place I’d never seen, but that Arnold had shown me pictures of—and where I’d bought my gown—Maison Aurielle, which was true, we’d put a down payment on it, like literally, the thing was almost worth as much as a car, yesterday.

“And your colors?”

“White, black, and gold,” I told her.

“Timeless classics,” she said, with a grin. I looked at her hands, and didn’t clock a ring on her finger.

“What will yours be?”

She flushed. “I—haven’t thought that far ahead, really. Dating in the city is hard.”

“Tell me about it,” I said with a rueful laugh, then patted the air between us. “Sorry, no—I wasn’t on the open market for long.”

“And you all met at a business meeting?”

“My father runs in all sorts of circles. And when Marcus set his eyes on me, I just…knew,” I said, trying to exude the caliber of soulful joy a real bride ought to be feeling at being interviewed by one of the preeminent wedding pages in the country.

“And did he know? Or did he require some convincing?” she teased. “You know, he was supposed to be here today?—”

“I know,” I said, faking a wince. The truth was I hadn’t known that—but it was also just as well.

“You know, we’ve been talking about this engagement for awhile now, ever since we met practically, and I told him we should hold off until after the election, because I knew he’d be too busy to help me.

But then he offered me a diamond the size of a quail egg and a black Amex card, and I figured, “Okay!”” I said, throwing up my hands, showing off said-ring, and laughing.

“I think the thing is, that after he wins the election, he wants to get straight to work, helping the people of our amazing state—and he doesn’t want any distractions, so it’s better to get this out of the way. ”

Tammy’s head tilted. “And your thoughts on that?”

I inhaled and stared past her for a moment to compose myself. “Do you know I’ve been reading this section of the paper since I was a kid?”

“Really?”

“Yes. I lost track of it for a bit when I was out of the country though—what happened to the woman who had this page before you?”

“Oh,” Tammy said, with a brief headshake, and turning off her recording app, like we were discussing state secrets. “She died. Super tragically. On the way back from her baby’s anatomy scan—she was hoping for a boy.”

“Oh,” I said, letting my demeanor fall. “I’m so…sorry.”

Tammy pressed a gentle hand to her chest. “I didn’t really know her, but the whole office was in mourning when I stepped up. She was really loved.”

And that was something I could agree with—because Rhaim wouldn’t have gone to the cemetery every Sunday for five years if he hadn’t.

“I wish I hadn’t brought it up then,” I said, blowing air through pursed lips.

“But the reason I did was this—I read all those pages, about all those couples, on the eves of the most beautiful day of their lives…and, while I used to dream about things like that, now I realize, I don’t care so much about the ceremony itself.

I just want all the things on the other side. ”

“Oh my gosh,” Tammy said—turning her recording app back on. “Can you repeat that?”

“Certainly,” I said, and did, and then she pressed for more.

“Like…kids?”

“Oh—oh no,” I said, shaking my head quickly. “Senator St. Clair already has two amazing boys that we’re both proud of to death,” I said, knowing that when Wes or Zane read it, it would be like a shiv between their ribs. “And I think he’s going to be too busy in the legislature to manage a toddler.”

“Well!” Tammy said, definitively turning her phone off. “I think we have it—was there anything else you’d like to add?”

“No, thank you. But you’re welcome to ask me questions up until the column prints!”

“You mean tomorrow?” she laughed. “Your fiancée didn’t really give us too much time!”

“His job is important to him,” I said, then gave her a conspiratorial wink. “And my job is keeping him happy.”

I was walking back to my driver’s car when my phone beeped—and I wondered which of the surrounding buildings Arnold had set up his surveillance on. It was all too easy to imagine him somewhere, looking through a sniper scope, reading my lips and shouting, “Use more adverbs!” into the wind.

So I didn’t pull it out until I was settled in the backseat—and what I found was one of my old appointments on a different calendar from the IPO.

Corvo was having a board meeting.

Without me.

My fingers clenched around my phone.

I wasn’t on the board yet, so of course they were—but no doubt the room was full of men, patting themselves on the back for doing fuck-all for the company, other than throw wads of money at each other and sound good, whereas here I was, suffering for it, paying in humiliation, agony, and tears.

“Go to Corvo.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and the driver hung a left hand turn.