Authors: Sally Koslow
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fashion Editors, #Contemporary Women, #Humorous, #Women's Periodicals, #New York (N.Y.), #Humorous Fiction, #Women Periodical Editors
Little Pink Slips (46 page)
idea. All mine."
The clapping started again, but Magnolia was no longer paying
attention. "I love those flowers." She started to cry and opened her tiny bag in search of a tissue. Fortunately, anticipating her reaction to
the film clip of the year's dead Academy members, she'd packed as
thick a wad as her tiny bag would allow. "I absolutely love them." Her
hands were shaking.
"I've missed you," he said, and sounded not one bit flip.
Say something, Magnolia. Say something that shows this man he's been in your dreams for the last year, that every day you've asked yourself whether you made the right decision. Do. Not. Blow. It.
"I've been kind of an ass," she said. It wasn't poetry, but it was
utterly from the heart.
"That you have," he said. "But I have always kind of liked your
ass—and I've been kind of an ass, too."
"Congratulations on your second book deal," she said. "I've read
about it everywhere." Now that Leo DiCaprio was signed to play the lead in
A Friend Indeed,
Cameron's advance for his next novel commanded a jaw-dropping sum.
"Thanks, but now I have to write it in one year, which is already
ticking away. Those advances you hear about—you only get a sliver at
the beginning. You've actually got to write the sucker to see any real
money. Imagine that?" As he smiled, he pushed up his glasses in that
little boy way Magnolia never got tired of seeing. "Congratulations
on your job, which, I guess, isn't that new anymore."
"With the shelf life of editors, ten months is a lifetime."
"Do you love it?" he asked. What he was really saying was
you better love it, fool, because look what you gave up.
Magnolia certainly didn't like analyzing the rising and falling
futures of celebrities as if they were pork bellies, and she hated to
think that at the end of her life, her finest accomplishment would
have been to have persuaded the movie-star-of-the-month to do a
Dazzle
cover. But all the standard editor hash—that she loved as much as always. She'd be lying if she denied it.
"I like it fine," she said, "for however long it lasts—but I have no
illusions about growing old in this or any job. Being editor in chief of
Dazzle
could last for twenty years—or twenty more minutes." "So it's right up there in security with writing books and screen
plays."
"Like trying to weather a hurricane in an inflatable kayak."
It felt good just to be talking to Cam, but the people around her
didn't see it that way. She realized she'd best cut to the chase.
"Are you coming back to New York?" she asked, and didn't care if
she came off borderline psycho for being direct. Cameron was here
next to her. Now.
He shrugged. "I'm house-sitting till May. After that, who can say?"
Don't expect too much,
she chanted to herself.
Enjoy this little moment, even if that's all it is. Y
et the editor in her was already writing the headline: MAGS AND CAM—THEY'RE BAAACK.
"Could you see yourself ever moving out here?" he asked.
"I'm the kind of bike rider who never likes to shift gears," she
admitted. She knew there was no way she'd give up her job.
"What do you say we just think about tonight then," he said. "That
is, if you don't have some fabled party to attend."
"I do," she whispered and ran her fingers up his arm. "But I heard
about this far more exclusive party. At the Four Seasons. Suite 492.
The champagne is ready, the room is full of flowers, and I can guaran
tee an enthusiastic showing of your fan base."
"Ah, the director proposes a Hollywood ending?" he asked.
"Too big a cliché for you?"
"Let's stay on point here. As the writer, I will consider the sugges
tion, but I have one immediate thought—a proper Hollywood ending
needs to include a kiss."
"Interesting," Magnolia said, softly. "Show me how you'd write
that."
He did.
From the front of the auditorium the nominees for Best Picture
were being announced. The room thundered. An entourage of win
ners ascended the stage and began thanking everyone from their
baby's nanny to their brother's chiropodist. Every eye in the theater
focused on the stage. All except four.
"Who
are
these people?" Magnolia asked, taking one last look at the stage before she put Cameron's hand in hers and nodded toward
the exit. "I have never been more bored with anything in my life.
C'mon."
Magnolia and Cameron looked at each other. "What the hell?" he
said, and standing up and wrapping his arm around Magnolia's waist,
he started leading her toward the door. "We've got work to do."
This was a job at which Magnolia had a feeling she would excel.
About the Author
Sally Koslow,
who was born and raised in Fargo, North Dakota, is the former editor in chief of
McCall's
magazine. Married and the mother of two sons, she lives in New York City.
Little Pink Slips
is her first novel.
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