Authors: Maria Murnane
“Point proven.” He finished his drink and set it on the bar.
I frowned. Thinking about Wendy made me think about Gary, which made me think about Paige, which made me think about the looming collapse of Waverly’s Honey Shop. “This conversation has taken a depressing turn. Can we please change the subject to something a little happier?”
“Sure. Go for it.”
“How long is Lindsay going to be in school?”
“Her master’s program is two years, but to get licensed for private practice, which is what she wants to do, will take another three years or so after that.”
“So what about kids?”
“What about them?”
“Are you going to have them?” Davey and Lindsay were in their late thirties.
“No.” His answer was firm.
“No?”
“No.”
“Why not? You’d be such a great dad.”
He smiled and bowed his head. “Why, thank you, and you are probably correct. But Linds and I have discussed it up and down and all around, and in the end we decided that it’s just not for us.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “There’s no one reason in particular. We like to travel. We love quiet weekends. We enjoy being spontaneous. We already have nieces and nephews to spoil. Overall, it’s just not something we want to do.”
“Oh.” I nodded slowly, impressed by his conviction.
“What about you and Jake? Are we going to see any mini Waverlys in the future?”
I smiled. “I’m not sure. I’ll give you a definite maybe on that.”
“A definite maybe? What kind of answer is that?”
I laughed. “The only honest one I can give you.”
“I bet you’d be a great mom.”
I coughed. “You’re lying, but thanks.”
“Come on now, I’m not lying. You’re smart and organized and kind as all hell. Those qualities a good mother do make.”
“Thanks, Davey.” I looked down and interlaced my hands in my lap.
Would I ever know for sure?
“But if kids aren’t for you, that’s totally fine too. Just make sure you do what makes
you
happy. You’ll get yourself into trouble if you start living your life to make other people happy.”
I looked up at him. Paige had said practically the exact same thing to me at the hospital just a few hours earlier. Were all my friends conspiring to tell me something?
About an hour later his phone buzzed with a text message.
“Is your hall pass up?”
He laughed and gestured to the bartender for the bill. “You could say that. Lindsay just got out of class, so we’re meeting for a late dinner.”
“How romantic.” I crossed my hands over my chest.
He nodded. “Yet another perk of not having kids. Hey, speaking of Lindsay, her birthday is coming up. Can I get my hands on one of your canvas Honey Totes? I really like those.”
“Sure, which one?”
“How about the one that says
JUST SMILE
? She’d love it.”
I nodded. “Of course. Just tell me where to send it. I’ll overnight it, no charge.”
He pulled out his wallet and handed me a crisp new business card. “Nice. Send it to my office so she won’t see it.”
I looked at the card and sighed. “You know, my birthday is coming up too. As a present, can you ditch your new high-paying job and come work entirely on commission for me?”
He shook his head. “You know I’d love to, but alas, I don’t want to.”
I laughed. “Damn you, Davey Mason.”
“I’ve missed you too, Waverly Bryson.”
After my hopes of having Davey come work with me were dashed, I cranked the search into high gear. There had to be someone out there who could do the job. There
had
to be. After all, it wasn’t like I was hiring someone to run a nuclear reactor. Just a charismatic, smart, organized person with loads of retail experience. How hard could it be?
A week and several more disappointing interviews later, my renewed optimism was struggling to stay alive. Why was finding the perfect candidate so hard? As I waited for the last applicant of the day to arrive one afternoon, I wondered if my standards were simply too high.
Then I met Eunice.
She was about forty, with an impressive background in retail operations spanning nearly fifteen years. She was efficient, organized, and professional.
She was also boring.
So
boring.
And even more importantly: humorless.
“So what part of New York do you live in?” I smiled and hoped her personality might shine through if we talked about something other than work.
“Upper East Side.” No elaboration.
“What do you like to do for fun?” I tried to picture us going out for drinks.
“I’m very involved in my church.”
Church?
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in a church.
“What’s your favorite TV show?”
She shook her head. “I don’t own a TV.”
“Do you ever go to the movies?”
“Not really.”
“Do you like to travel abroad?”
“I’m not very adventurous.”
It was like pulling out my own eyelashes with pliers.
When it came to business, however, Eunice really knew her stuff. And despite my dream of maintaining the chummy culture of Waverly’s Honey Shop, at the end of the day, it was…a business.
Right?
Eunice was certainly all business.
“To the birthday girl.” Andie held up her glass and smiled.
“To the birthday girl.” Jake held up his glass and smiled.
“To wishing I’d brought a jacket.” I held up my glass and shivered.
That Friday the three of us were sitting at one of the crowded outdoor benches on Stone Street, a quaint cobblestone throwback located in the heart of the financial district. The tiny stretch was lined on both sides with pubs and wine bars, and all summer long it was packed with people and
pitchers
, German beer garden–style, and everyone drinking up a storm.
It was early October, but the day had been so warm that the bar owners brought out the tables, which quickly filled up with revelers. A few opted for wine, but the vast majority looked
like poster children for Oktoberfest: attractive, happy, and a little buzzed. Actually, that’s how the majority of Manhattanites looked on any given Friday afternoon. Or Saturday afternoon. Or Saturday evening. Or Sunday Funday, as people called it here. I never ceased to be amazed at the amount of alcohol consumed on this relatively small island.
My birthday wasn’t until Sunday, but we were celebrating early because Andie and I were headed to Florida the next morning. It seemed like everyone in Manhattan had left work early to soak up the last natural heat of the year. Unfortunately, however, the tall buildings of Lower Manhattan were blocking out the direct sunlight, and as the afternoon wore on, a chill had crept into the air, San Francisco–style.
Jake put his arm around me. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“Enjoy the breeze, because it’s going to be hot as hell in Florida,” Andie said.
I thought about the weekend ahead. I still hadn’t packed, and I also hadn’t come up with a good excuse for why I wasn’t going to be wearing my engagement ring.
Ugh
.
“So Waverly, I know you’ve been interviewing like a madwoman to find someone for the Honey Shop. Have you found anybody good?” Andie asked.
I sighed. “In the past week alone, I think I’ve interviewed ten people. With one exception, if I saw any of them walking down the street I would probably hide under this table so I wouldn’t have to face them. That’s how awful they were.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly. One of them wasn’t bad, though, a woman named Eunice. Her personality didn’t make me want to sing in the shower or anything, but her résumé is stellar, and she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.”
“Could be a fair compromise,” Jake said.
I nodded. “That’s what I figured. Beggars can’t be choosers, so I think I’m going to ask her to come back to meet Tasha and Beth.”
“The you and me from ten years ago?” Andie said.
I laughed. “Exactly.” Then I turned to Jake, who had a confused look on his face. “Our interns remind me of Andie and me when we were younger.”
Andie picked up the pitcher and refilled our beers. “She means they are smart, super hot, and amazing. And the sassy one of the two is me, of course.”
Just then my phone buzzed with a text. I read it, then set my phone on the table, stood up, and clapped my hands high above my head. I jumped up and down a few times, my arms still in the air.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” Andie said.
“That was Davey. He’s here but can’t find us in the crowd.”
“So you’re scaring away everyone else to clear his line of vision?”
I pointed to him. “See? He just spotted me from way over there.” I waved to Davey, then took a seat and calmly picked up my beer.
“I’m so embarrassed for you,” Andie said.
Jake looked at her. “So, Andie, how are you liking New York so far?”
She grinned and raised her cup in the air. “It’s amazing, Jake. I love it love it love it. I adore San Francisco, but I could totally live here too.”
I looked at her.
But what about Nick?
Jake nodded in the direction of her building. “That place of yours is off the charts. I’d probably never leave my apartment if I had a view like that.”
“I know, isn’t it amazing? Totally makes up for the cheesy décor,” she said.
He scratched his eyebrow. “I didn’t think the décor was that bad, actually. Given the way Waverly described it, I expected at least a waterbed or zebra-print sheets or something.”
Andie laughed. “Touché. It’s a bit gauche, but it could be worse. You’ve got to give it up for the porcelain dogs, though. What is
that
all about?”
Jake nodded. “The dogs, I’ll give you.”
I squeezed Jake’s thigh under the table and tried not to laugh. On our way out of Andie’s apartment earlier he’d hung back, saying he was going to use the restroom, but what he’d really done was dress Blanco and Whitey in
BROOKLYN NETS
T-shirts and hats. When he whispered later what he’d done, I was tempted to head straight to city hall and marry him right then and there.
Now, that would be nice
, I thought.
“There’s the birthday girl.”
“Davey!” I stood up and gave him a hug. “Thanks so much for coming.” I turned around and gestured to the bench. “This is my good friend Andie, and this is Jake, my, um, my fiancé.” I stumbled awkwardly over the introduction.
He shook their hands and laughed. “Let me guess. That’s the first time you’ve used the word
fiancé
to introduce him.”
I blushed. “How did you know?”
“Everyone trips over it the first time.” He looked at Jake. “Have you introduced Waverly to anyone as your
fiancée
yet?”
Jake shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Davey nodded. “It will be awkward, trust me.”
I poured him a beer. “Thanks for skipping out of work early to join us. That must have been hard, now that you’re
the man
and all.”
He shrugged. “Actually, being
the man
made it quite easy. I left, and no one asked where I was going, and now I’m here.”
Andie laughed. “I like you. So you used to be Waverly’s boss?”
He took a sip of his beer. “Not technically. I was her client.”
“So basically,
yes
,” I said to Andie. “Don’t listen to him.”
“Waverly told me about your new job. Congratulations,” Jake said to Davey.
Andie reached for the pitcher. “What job?”
“He’s running global marketing for Blush and Company,” I said.
Her jaw dropped. “No way. I
love
that company.”
Davey smirked at Jake. “It hasn’t been long, but if I had a dollar for every time some chick said that to me…”
Jake laughed too. “I hear you. Try working for the NBA. It gets a little old.”
Andie nodded. “Seriously,
all
my makeup is Blush. Look.” She opened her purse and started pulling out an arsenal of pink products with the Blush and Company logo. Mascara, lipstick, powder, and, of course, blush. She lined them all up on the table. “See?”
Davey looked impressed. “What’s your favorite? I’ll hook you up with some free samples.”
Andie’s eyes got big. “Really?”
“Sure thing. We have tons at the office.”
She looked at me. “Why did you quit your PR job again? Who wouldn’t want to work with
this
guy?”
I laughed. “That’s not quite how it went down, but yes, Davey is great to work with. I even tried to get him to come run Waverly’s Honey Shop, but he shot me down.”
Davey gave me a sympathetic look. “Have you found someone yet?”
I nodded. “I think so. She’s not
you
, but she’ll do.”
“You sound far from thrilled.”
I shrugged. “I’m just trying to be realistic.”
I got the impression that Davey was going to say something, but before he could speak, Andie interjected.
“Hey, babe, want a beer?”
I was about to reply when I realized she wasn’t talking to me.
I turned my head to see who she
was
talking to, and there was Morgan.