Talk of the Town (6 page)

She
had written the gossipy note out of damn-the- consequences outrage.
She
was prepared to face the possible dire consequences of her choice. But she wouldn’t allow Kate to suffer.

If Tim does David Alan Sumner’s dirty work and fires anyone this Monday morning, he’s in for a real fight.

Chest heaving, Rebecca started to push through the
Daily Mail
’s door.

“Rebecca!” George’s shout stopped her. She twirled to find him racing across the street toward her.

Breathless, his cheeks flushed, and his thick dark hair slightly windblown, he bent to kiss her cheek. “Hi. I’ve got a meeting down the block in the Wrigley building. I hoped I’d catch you. I’ve been calling you for days.”

Rebecca forced a slow smile. After all, her raw nerves weren’t George’s fault. “Sorry, darling. I promise we’ll get together soon.”

He bent closer, his warm breath tickling her ear. “I’ll hold you to that. I’ll call you tonight.”

She waited until he safely dodged traffic across Michigan Avenue before she swung through the door into the lobby.

Pauline looked up with her usual sunny smile, and unshed tears of relief burned in Rebecca’s eyes.

“Everyone’s talking about your column. Joe Richards has a betting pool on about who the Soup Lady could be.” Pauline clasped her hands to her chest. “I wish you could tell me. I’m in for five dollars.”

“Would if I could, but I promised never to tell.” Rebecca laughed, suddenly feeling lighter and younger than she had in years. Well,
better
than she’d felt since this time last Monday.

“Wasn’t that George talking to you outside?” Pauline giggled. “He’s so handsome. He sorta looks like George Clooney. You’re not done with him already?”

“No. He’s sweet. Just too busy for him at the moment.” Rebecca waved. “See you later.”

This fabulous sensation of being lighter and younger carried her up the steps, through the chaotic newsroom, where she blew a kiss to Rose before sweeping into the relative quiet of Kate’s cubbyhole office.

Kate looked up, and as suddenly as relief had come over Rebecca, it fled in the face of what this column might still mean for both of them.

Rebecca didn’t flinch away from Kate’s long, piercing look. “I’m sorry to have put you in the middle of my messy situation with the new owner. Tim suggested I kick up the recipe column with my old Rebecca Covington touch, so I did. If it costs your job, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“No need to worry about Kate’s job.” Tim’s cheery voice startled Rebecca. Prepared to do battle if necessary, she whirled to confront him.

He positively beamed. “Our new owner thinks very highly of Kate’s work.”

“You mean David Alan Sumner?” Rebecca said, keeping her voice casual and light.

Color drained from Tim’s ruddy cheeks. “How did you find out? Damn, I hope the news isn’t all over town! If the
Courier
gets hold of this first, there’ll be hell to pay. David’s people are planning a big splashy announcement on Friday.”

“Remember when you
paid me
to know everything, Tim. Obviously the deal is done, since he’s calling all the shots. Isn’t he?”

Tim took a stab at looking stern. “Yes. Yes, he is. And brilliantly. Reader response was favorable to your Sunday recipe column. You will be happy to know he has authorized judicious use of your gossip notes.”

Blood rushed to her head, making her feel giddy.
I can’t let him see what this means to me.
As always, she tried to heed what her granny always said about people only knowing what she was feeling if she let them.

Rebecca shrugged as if this meant nothing instead of everything. “
Of course
he liked the column. We knew he would.” She glanced at Kate, hoping she’d play along, and she returned the look with absolute serenity.

“Yes, I thought he would be pleased,” Kate said briskly. “This morning, advertising informed me Rebecca’s column is already generating new income for the Home and Food section. One of the paper’s bigger clients, LuLu’s at the Belle Kay, ordered all its ads to be enlarged and placed directly under Rebecca’s recipe column on Wednesdays and Sundays. The revenue from that account has now doubled.”

Tim winked. “I told you David Sumner’s a brilliant businessman. But don’t push it, Rebecca. Judicious use of those gossip notes,” he warned again before strolling away.

“You were fabulous!” Rebecca gushed, in awe of how well Kate had played along. She should have known any woman who kept her bottle of Prozac next to her Pulitzer had to be unflappable.

Kate leaned forward across the desk and grinned up at her. For the first time Rebecca noticed a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. “You look shocked. No one here knows, but I’m a killer poker player. I plan to tell people we’re revolutionizing the Home and Food section, as well.”

Embarrassed, Rebecca groaned. “You know about the stories I was spinning all along Oak Street. But I was serious about taking you shopping.”

The mischief faded from Kate’s eyes. “I think not at my present weight. It’s time to get back down to business. I do agree a conventional recipe for Wednesday would be best. Keep them wanting more.”

A thousand delicious ideas were dancing through Rebecca’s head. There was one
fabulous
gossipy note she was dying to use while the fire of rebellion against David Sumner was still blazing hot. For Kate’s sake, she’d rein in some of her giddy enthusiasm.

“I promise. But to celebrate, I buy us lunch tomorrow and then we stop at LuLu’s to thank Laurie for those huge ads. You’ll love the store. The decor is wonderful. You should do a story on it for
our
revolutionized Home and Food section.”

Her poker face on once again, Kate nodded. “All right, but no shopping.”

Barely containing her glee, Rebecca slipped around the ridiculously shoddy partition of the cubicle and slid onto her incredibly uncomfortable swivel chair.

The wisp of sadness about weight had been impossible to miss in Kate’s voice and in her eyes. Rebecca had read that mood-altering medication could cause weight gain. It was time for Rebecca to call a temporary cease-fire in her war with David Sumner and keep her vow to help Kate with fashion choices. She picked up the phone to tell Laurie they were coming for a makeover. Tomorrow there
would
be shopping for Kate. She deserved some fun.

The next day Kate followed Rebecca into LuLu’s at the Belle Kay, advertised in the
Daily Mail
as Chicago’s most extraordinary store of vintage clothing and accoutrements.

They fought their way through the door, past customers leaving, arms full of fabulous finds. Women stood three deep at the register to purchase one-of-a-kind vintage treasures.

Kate pushed her glasses high on her nose to study the enormous gilt-edged mirror and the oriental rugs partially covering the patina of the old wood floor. She ran her fingertips over an antique chest displaying vintage costume jewelry. “Very tasteful. You’re right, Rebecca. There is an article here for the Home section.”

Thrilled at Kate’s reaction, Rebecca urged her farther into the store.

Finally free of other customers, Laurie glanced up and saw them. She swept around the desk. “Rebecca, how nice to see you. This must be your friend.” She smiled toward Kate, giving her the once-over.

Without a doubt Laurie was already at work to make sure Kate would leave here with some treasure. Rebecca felt warm with gratitude. “Darling, we just
had
to thank you personally for your support.”

Laurie’s shrug was a grand gesture that flipped her straight black ponytail over her shoulder, making her gold hoop earrings swing provocatively and showing off her wrist full of gold bangles and the big oval ring set in pavé diamonds on her expressive hand. “You know me; I’m all about business. Why wouldn’t I move to your new section? Everyone will be reading your recipe column to see what you do. Besides, you’re a brilliant writer.”

All at once Laurie swayed backward, studying Rebecca the way Kate had the decor. “Normally I don’t do suits, but I’ve found the most extraordinary one with your name on it. You’re going to die when you see it! Absolutely no one will have anything like it. It would be perfect for a date with that gorgeous guy I saw you with at Gibson’s. Or better yet, for Dayson Cottington’s Handbag and Halo luncheon on Friday.”

Rebecca tried to surreptitiously signal Laurie to get on with Kate’s makeover, but she ignored the frantic gesture. She turned toward one of the beautiful built-in closets without doors that lined the walls.

Trying to buy time, Rebecca looked at Kate, who had suspicion in her eyes. “The luncheon Friday is a fund-raiser Dayson does for the Howard Brown Health Center.”

“I know. I read about it in your column,” Kate said quietly.

Of course
this
year Shannon would be writing about it instead of Rebecca, so there was no professional reason for her to attend. But she
wanted
to go, as she’d done for years. Would it make Shannon uncomfortable if Rebecca showed up?

Rebecca jumped when Laurie twirled back to them, a black broadtail suit in one hand and a black crepe dress in the other.

“I have this beautiful dress from the forties for you to wear, Kate. Very simple. Very elegant,” Laurie raved. “In those days the dresses were cut to make a woman’s body look phenomenal. Classic and chic. You can slip this on, while Rebecca tries on the suit.”

Kate appeared slightly dazed. With clothes and accessories, Laurie
was
a force of nature.

Kate shook her head and perched on the edge of the cream settee in the middle of the room. “No, thank you. I’ll wait while Rebecca tries on the suit.”

“No, Kate, I don’t want to keep you waiting while I try on clothes.” Rebecca looked pleadingly at Laurie for help.

“Go!” Laurie demanded. “I’ll show Kate some accessories while she’s waiting for you.”

Behind the heavy rich brown velvet curtain, Rebecca slipped off her clothes and carefully put on the black broadtail suit. She peeped out to make sure Laurie was still at work.

She was holding up a beautiful vintage rhinestone brooch and earrings to the crepe dress. Kate’s face lit up with interest.

Laurie’s right again. If Kate feels too heavy to buy new clothes, she can always accessorize.

Unable to stall a moment longer, Rebecca stepped out to stand before the gilt mirror.

Laurie gasped. “Your body looks amazing in that!” She expertly pushed the collar up to frame Rebecca’s face. “There! Wear your pearls. Black heels. Carry one of your fabulous Nancy Gonzales bags in some color that will pop the outfit.”

She’d had absolutely no plans to shop today, but she had to admit the way the jacket nipped in at the waist and the skirt slid over her hips made her look sexy but still chic.

Good battle gear for Friday.

She met Kate’s approving eyes in the mirror. “What are you buying?”

“The beautiful rhinestone brooch and earrings. They are signed Eisenberg Original pieces.”

“Good. Then I’ll take this suit.”

“It will be fabulous for Friday’s luncheon,” Laurie declared.

In the mirror Rebecca saw a flash of concern sharpen Kate’s features. “It is a beautiful suit for any occasion,” Kate agreed and stood to pull a credit card out of her shapeless jacket pocket. “Now we need to pay and get back to work.”

Rebecca changed as quickly as she could, still eavesdropping as Laurie urged Kate to reconsider the forties dress.

It
was
perfect for the Allen’s opening in a few weeks. Rebecca fully intended to drag Kate to it, regardless of protests. Kate was entirely too serious. She needed to smile more.

Rebecca would tackle
that
problem after she confronted Kate’s obvious concern about Dayson’s party. She knew why Kate looked so worried, but she’d reassure her. Rebecca had no intention of interfering with Shannon doing her new job. Well, maybe just the tiniest bit, but she vowed not to embarrass either one of them.

Just as Rebecca stepped out of the dressing room, she saw Kate reverently stroking the black crepe dress Laurie still held out. “You’re right. It is quality fabric and workmanship.” Kate sighed. “Perhaps some other time.”

Encouraged, Rebecca scribbled a note for Laurie to hold the dress before she paid her bill.

In the cab Rebecca was painfully aware of the prolonged silence between them and Kate’s fixed stare straight ahead. Obviously Rebecca needed to level with her immediately.

“Kate, I know you’re concerned about my attending the Handbag and Halo luncheon on Friday, but you don’t need to be. I always receive a personal invitation plus the press invite.” Did Rebecca hear a shadow of defiance in her own voice? She tried to soften it. “People would think it odd if I didn’t attend, since I’ve supported the charity for years.”

At last Kate turned, a searching expression on her face. “If you are attending Dayson Cottington’s benefit because you believe in the charity and wish to personally support it, then I agree, you should go. But I can’t help believing your real motive is to prove your worth to David Sumner so he will be forced to admit he made a mistake in choosing Shannon over you.”

Rebecca shifted in her seat, wanting to avoid Kate’s unflinching eyes, but her pride wouldn’t let her. She knew clever, tough Kate had pierced her facade in a vulnerable spot.

David Sumner had rejected Rebecca because he thought she was too old and stale to do her job, and it hurt no matter how she spun it. She refused to accept
this
rejection without a damn good fight.

She respected Kate so much, she wanted to be completely honest. “I know my motives are flawed. I know I might not be playing this hand the way you believe I should. But you should know I’ll do whatever it takes to get my identity back.”

“Your identity isn’t gone, Rebecca. Only your job as Chicago’s most notorious gossip columnist. They are not the same,” Kate warned.

Afraid, Rebecca did look away. Her facade was so thin Kate might see the truth.

You’re wrong, Kate. For years, even before Peter discarded me, my job was my identity, the armor I put on every day. I need it back to feel safe.