Once the story was out, more women came forward, along with more aliases that he had used. It turned out that in his earlier relationships, he had managed to work them without love letters.
But then he’d upped his game, trying to work more than one woman at a time, using the letters to keep whoever he wasn’t actually with, interested. The ironic part was that Rita, who claimed to be his real girlfriend, had never gotten a letter or even a love note. It was anyone’s guess if he really would have married Cocoa. She thought he would have, though reluctantly admitted that he’d asked her for a large amount of money in advance of their wedding with the same story he’d given Laurel.
The love letters I wrote became part of the story and I thought it would ruin my business. But there’s that saying about no such thing as bad publicity. The letters captured people’s imaginations and suddenly the idea of a real piece of paper with caring thoughts became a thing. I had a flurry of business as letters from me had a certain cachet. People didn’t even want to pretend they wrote them.
Sara knew about the engagement party on Saturday night. She even gave her approval to my attire. I’d splurged on a ballet-length black dress that was cut on the bias. But she had no idea that I even had an escort, let alone who it was.
She opened her door as I went down the stairs and smiled as I opened my coat to reveal the dress. I’d left my hair loose and gone full makeup. She gave me a nod of approval. ‘Wow, even mascara. You look great. All you need is someone to appreciate it,’ she said. I offered her a Mona Lisa smile in return.
Ben had parked the Wrangler and was leaning against the passenger door when I came outside. He straightened as I came down the stairs and I got a full view of his appearance. He looked perfect in herringbone sport jacket, blue dress shirt and gray slacks and I did my impression of a wolf whistle.
‘You clean up well,’ I said, walking to the car.
‘I could say the same.’ He stepped away and opened the car door, offering his arm to help me to manage the high step to get in.
The party was at the fancy downtown hotel where both of the couple worked. It was elegant and I was given a special toast as the fairy godmother who’d brought them together. It was a nice reminder of how my love-letter writing could turn out for the good.
I was glad that Ben and I had worked things out so he could be my plus one. We ate, danced and socialized. I got a number of leads for different writing projects and the evening seemed like it had been a success until I remembered our original plan. ‘We forgot,’ I said in a panic to Ben.
‘Forgot what?’
‘The body language. So we’d seem like a real couple and not just friends.’
He laughed and pulled a photo out of his pocket. ‘When you were in the ladies’ room, the photographer dropped off the picture he took of our table.’ He held it out to show me. Ben and I were sitting with our shoulders touching and our heads angled toward each other in the perfect couples’ pose. ‘Personally, I think we nailed it,’ he said.
‘You’re right.’ I looked at the picture and smiled. ‘Do you think it means something?’
He leaned toward me, recreating the pose. ‘Maybe that it’s real.’
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It was such fun working with my editor Carl Smith. I loved all his comments while I went through the edits. Once again his suggestions were all right on. Thank you to my agent Jessica Faust as there wouldn’t have been this series without her guidance.
I enjoyed writing about Chicago and my Hyde Park neighborhood. It gave me a chance to look at it with a fresh eye. Though thanks to the pandemic, only at a distance. It helped to have the amazing shots that David and Leslie Travis posted on Facebook to remind me just how beautiful the Point and Lake Michigan are at sunrise. William Vandervoort posted wonderful pictures of the area right around where Veronica lives. I am grateful to the whole Hyde Park Classic Facebook group for all the photos of the past and present, along with lots of background stories on my neighborhood.
Writing about Veronica’s buildings stirred up a lot of emotions. I know her condo only too well and it’s filled with memories of my family. I met Penny Fisher Sanborn and Pam Fisher Armanino when I was two and they lived on the first floor. It’s nice to say that we’re still friends and they’re my backup memory.
Thanks to Burl and Max for sharing your Chicago experiences.
Writing a Wrong Page 24
