She nodded.
“You got students from FIT who want to do a work study for Waverly’s Honey Shop?”
She nodded again. “Why not? They’re smart, eager, and willing to work for super cheap to get some experience in the business.”
“I guess I associate FIT and ‘the business’ with runway models and couture, not girly tees and tote bags.”
She smiled. “Don’t sell yourself short, Waverly. Once Jordan Brooke and Bella’s Boutique start carrying your stuff, a lot of people are going to be jumping on the Honey bandwagon.”
“You really think so?”
She nodded. “You’re a trendsetter, my dear.”
I laughed to myself as I thought of the chocolate stains on my pajamas. Trendsetter. Ha.
Paige filled me in on her plans for bringing down our production costs and streamlining the ordering system. As she neared the bottom of her checklist, I glanced at a clock on the wall. I’d have to leave soon to get ready for my next taping.
You have to say something, Waverly.
I knew I had to ask her about her weekend with Gary. If a friend goes away with a guy for the weekend for the first time, you have to ask about it.
When she was done with her list, I forced the words out.
“So how did it…go with Gary?”
For a second I thought I saw a look of distress in her eyes, but then it was gone, and she smiled.
“It was good. We had a really nice time.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing too exciting, really. We window-shopped, took long walks, went to dinner, your standard bed-and-breakfast weekend.”
“That sounds fun.”
“It was.” She smiled again, but I could tell something was off. She looked back at her notebook, as though she didn’t want to make eye contact with me.
Does she know he’s married? Does she know I know he’s married? And that I work for his wife?
My mind raced, searching for what to say next. I thought of Kristina’s advice to stay out of it, of Jake’s advice to stay out of it. Of my own desire to stay out of it.
Stay out of it, Waverly!
I knew it wasn’t my business. I knew I should just let it go.
But I couldn’t.
Not entirely. Not yet.
I watched her body language for a clue. Maybe she wanted to open up but needed a nudge to unlock the door. Maybe I could give her a key?
“So, um, do you want to talk about it?” I asked softly.
She looked up from her notepad. “What?”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “What do you mean?”
I studied the look on her face. If she knows he’s married, she must know I know too. Does she know? The thoughts were running around in circles inside my head, clamoring to get out.
One finally burst free.
“He must have told you I know,” I blurted.
“Know what?” She took a sip of her hot chocolate and made eye contact for a second, then glanced away.
“Paige…” I paused because I didn’t know what to say. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut, but I’d shown my hand.
She knew.
And she knew that I knew.
We sat there in awkward silence for a moment, and then she finally spoke.
“I don’t really want to talk about it, OK? I care about him and he cares about me, so let’s just leave it at that.”
She knows. Oh, my God. She totally knows.
“So you’re going to keep seeing him?”
She ignored me. “Listen, I don’t want to talk about it, OK? And I have to go now anyway. I’ll be in touch after the holidays. We’re going to have to hit the ground running when I get back.” She gathered her things and stood up.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no.”
“Are you sure?”
“Life doesn’t always go the way we planned, Waverly.”
I looked up at her. Why are you acting so weird? Don’t you know I care about you?
There were suddenly so many things I wanted to say, but I just sat there, silently stunned.
She gave me a quick hug before turning to leave. “I need to run now. Happy holidays. Have fun with Jake’s family.”
“OK, thanks.” My mouth hung half open.
She was nearly out the door when she stopped and turned to face me. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a set of keys. “Here’s your set. On January first, Waverly’s Honey Shop starts a whole new chapter.”
Before I could even respond, she was off again. She blended into the busy sidewalk outside, and I stood there, staring at the keys in my hand, thinking of the key I’d tried to give her.
Life doesn’t always go the way we planned.
I thought of the way Gary had grabbed my arm at the holiday party. He wanted me to stay out of it, and now Paige was telling me to mind my own business as well.
Paige. Sweet, smart, kind Paige, who deserved to be with someone who deserved her.
Someone who wasn’t already married.
I rubbed my fingers over the keys and wished they could unlock the hold he clearly had over her.
The week continued at its frenetic pace, and by Friday, I could barely keep my eyes open. And I wasn’t the only one. Early that morning, before yet another double taping in front of a live studio audience, we had our last staff meeting before everyone scattered for the holidays. The strain from the workload showed on everyone’s faces, but none more so than Wendy’s. Small bags were visible under her eyes, which looked a little bloodshot, and for the first time I could see tiny crow’s feet at the corners.
Scotty clapped his hands to start the meeting. “OK, people, I know it’s Christmas Eve, and I know everyone has been working double time to keep us covered over the holidays. I want you to know how much I appreciate all your hard work. Especially you, Wendy. Staying cheery for hours on end in front of the bright lights of a studio audience isn’t easy, but you’ve done a remarkable job of holding it together.”
Wendy nodded and chewed at her fingernails.
She looks awful, I thought. Did she find out about Paige?
“One more show, and then everyone is free for a few days. Do you have it in you?” He looked like a cheerleader up there. He should get a job at Southwest Airlines, I thought. Those people are always freakishly happy, no matter how crowded their flights are.
Wendy smiled and nodded. “I have it in me. Just let me stop by makeup, and I’ll make the audience fall in love with me.”
I looked at her. You’re totally right. Bizarre as she may be behind the scenes, Wendy was the consummate professional before an audience. She was full of charisma, and her fans adored her.
“Waverly, you’re on this afternoon’s show, right?” Scotty said.
I looked up at him. “Excuse me?”
“You’re doing a studio appearance on the show today, right?”
“Huh?” I definitely didn’t remember that.
“On the two o’clock taping. Wendy said we’d scheduled you to talk about Honey on Your Mind, sort of a holiday-themed wrap-up?”
I looked at Wendy. “Did we schedule that?” I knew I certainly hadn’t. If I had, I wouldn’t have booked a four o’clock train to Boston. My suitcase was all packed and ready so that I could leave for Penn Station right from the office.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Waverly, we did.”
I opened my mouth but didn’t speak. Huh? Although I had zero recollection of scheduling anything with her, with everyone in the room staring at me, I caved. “Um, I’m sorry; I must have forgotten to make a note of it.”
Scotty gave me a look that made it clear he didn’t know what to believe but didn’t have time to get into it. “OK then, Waverly, looks like you’ll be joining Wendy in makeup.”
“You could use it, my dear,” Wendy sai
d under her breath.
• • •
I called Jake as soon as the meeting broke up, but he was already on a plane to Boston from Atlanta, so I had to leave a message about my change in plans. If the taping ended on time, which was never a guarantee, I might get out of the studio by three-thirty. That would probably give me enough time to catch my train.
Wendy was already in makeup, so I settled into an empty conference room to prepare for my appearance on her show. What was I supposed to do at the last minute? If I’d had proper notice, I would have pulled together a fun montage of my favorite clips with a soundtrack and graphics, but there was no time for that now. Clearly, I just was going to have to wing it and talk. About what, I had no idea. I wondered why Wendy hadn’t told me about this earlier. Was she trying to ambush me again? Was she more upset about the holiday party than she’d let on?
Scotty had already left, so I couldn’t check in with him. I scribbled a few notes and tried to think of what to say on camera. This could be a Honey on Your Mind segment on its own, I thought. “So what’s on your mind, Waverly? Wondering how to deal with a lunatic boss, that’s what.”
I chewed on a pencil and stared at the page in front of me.
I am so screwed.
I let out a loud sigh and put both my hands on my head.
Ugh.
“You doing all right, Waverly?”
The sound of a voice startled me. I looked up and saw the skinny intern standing in the doorway.
“Are you OK? I heard that sigh all the way down the hall,” he said.
I offered up a weak smile. “Oh, hi, Ben. I’m fine, just preparing for the show this afternoon.” I covered the sheet of paper with my hand, not wanting him to see that it was nearly empty.
He laughed and pointed to my hand. “It’s OK, I’m not going to steal your answers to the history midterm. Or is it the SAT?”
I looked at the paper and laughed too. “Sorry, I have no idea why I did that.”
He sat down across from me. “Let me guess. You’re brainstorming ideas for what to say on the show…because you didn’t prepare anything…because Wendy never told you about it?”
I pointed at him. “Bingo.” This was the most I’d ever heard him speak.
“Why not read some of those hilarious e-mails you’ve shared with us in the staff meetings?”
I chewed on my pencil again. “You think so? You like those?”
He nodded. “I love them. They keep me from falling asleep when Wendy starts droning on about her latest shopping spree on Fifth Avenue.”
I laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that. What a great idea.”
“I think the audience would really enjoy it.”
“Thanks so much, Ben, really. You may have just saved me from completely humiliating myself on national television.”
“My pleasure, Waverly. Happy holidays.”
As he sauntered down to the break room, I ran to an empty workstation and logged on to my e-mail account. It wasn’t a video montage, but within seconds, I had a pile of potential material staring back at me.
Score one for the intern.
• • •
“Waverly, it’s so nice to have you join us on the set like this. It’s been awhile.” Wendy beamed at me from her plush chair.
I smiled back and shifted slightly in my intentionally not-as-plush seat. “Thanks, Wendy. I’m glad to be here.”
She clapped her freshly manicured hands together and looked out at the audience. “So, my friends, I know you’ve all enjoyed Waverly’s Honey on Your Mind segment, so I thought it would be fun to invite her on stage for a little behind-the-scenes gossip.” She turned to me again. “Waverly, can you share with us some of the moments that didn’t make it on camera? It would be a hoot to see some bloopers.”
Like a seasoned politician, I deflected her question to focus on the answer I had prepared. “Actually, I thought I’d do something a little different.” I looked out at the audience. “What do you all think? Mix it up a little?”
As a small cheer erupted from the crowd, I could feel visual daggers coming from Wendy’s direction. At least I was ready for them this time. I turned to face her with a forced smile. “Does that sound OK to you, Wendy?”
Her own phony smile was even bigger than mine. “Why suuure, Waverly. That sounds wuuunderful. What did you have in mind?” Wow, she’s a genius at being fake, I thought.
I sat up a little straighter and turned back to the audience. “Great. Well, as you know, on my segment I talk about things that are on my mind as well as on the minds of people on the streets of New York.”
Wendy nodded, as did the audience.
“However, I also receive a lot of e-mails from viewers across the country who like to share with me what’s on their minds.”
More nods.
“So I thought it would be fun to share some of the, um, more colorful ones, with you today.”
Wendy raised her eyebrows and tilted her head slightly to the side. “That sounds like it could be a little…shall we say…dangerous.” She turned to the audience and winked. Everyone laughed.
I laughed too. “This is true. I definitely get some e-mails that aren’t fit for public consumption. However, the majority of them are very entertaining.” I held up a piece of paper and looked out at the audience. “I’ve got some fun ones here. Anyone interested?”
“Yes!” the audience shouted.
“Well there you go,” Wendy said with a smile that could melt steel. “Let’s hear them.”
“OK, here goes.” I cleared my throat and began to read:
“Dear Waverly, I just saw a lady pushing a dog in a baby stroller. A dog. No baby in sight. What the hell? That’s what’s on my mind, why people are such idiots.”
Laughter from the audience.
“Hi, Waverly, you know what’s on my mind? Bumper stickers. I’m of the opinion that the number of bumper stickers on a person’s car is roughly the same as the number of days that person goes between showers. Just thought I’d share.”
More laughter.
“Dear Waverly, why is there never enough parking in Chicago? It drives me crazy. I even saw a sign in front of a church the other day that said, THOU SHALL NOT PARK HERE. At least God is laughing with us, not at us.”
More laughter.
I glanced over at Wendy. She was nodding and smiling and truly seemed to be enjoying herself. This is going really well.
I kept reading.
“Hi, Waverly, here’s what’s on my mind: I’m recently divorced and decided to give the online dating thing a try. The first woman I had a conversation with seemed nice, so I asked her out to dinner. She accepted, but then immediately sent me another message that said, and I’m quoting verbatim here, ‘You do make more than $400K a year, right?’”
The audience totally cracked up at that one, so I felt good as I entered the homestretch.
“Dear Waverly, I could stand to drop a few pounds, so ever since college I’ve been joking about how I need to ‘lose my baby fat.’ Now that I’m in my thirties, I’ve unfortunately realized that I can’t do that anymore. The last time I said it, the person I was speaking to asked me, ‘How old is your baby?’”
“Oh my,” Wendy said, putting her hand over her heart.
I laughed and looked at her. “I know. Brutal, huh?”
“Oh yes, just awwwful. Actually, that reminds me, Waverly, wasn’t having a baby on your mind?”
I looked at her.
What?
I hoped my jaw hadn’t visibly dropped.
“I’m sorry?” I said.
“Weren’t you talking about having a baby soon?”
I didn’t reply. I wanted to, but my mouth was frozen.
What?
Before I could speak, Wendy put her hand on my arm and laughed. “I’m just joking, my dear. I know you’re not even close to being married.” She held up her ring finger and kissed it. “True love like mine doesn’t come around every day, but maybe o
ne day your prince will come. I’m holding out hope for you.”
I still didn’t say anything. I willed my brain to kick into gear and come up with a clever comeback, but all I kept thinking was, What?
As I sat there like a stone, Wendy smiled out at the audience. “Well, I’m sorry to say, folks, but it looks like we’re out of time. Waverly, luuuv, thanks so much for visiting us. You were veeery entertaining, as always. Ladies and gentleman, let’s give a big round of applause for Waverly Bryson!” She put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a little squeeze, then clapped her hands enthusiastically.
The audience erupted in applause.
• • •
As soon as the director cut the scene, I stood up and yanked off my microphone with such force that I nearly broke it. Is she kidding me? I couldn’t bring myself to look at Wendy, who was still seated on the couch with a strange grin on her face. What is her problem? The audience, clearly enamored despite her psychotic behavior, was already lining up for autographs (hers not mine). I just hoped I wouldn’t get caught up in the traffic as I tried to make a gracious exit. If I was going to make my train, I needed to sprint out of there faster than the lifespan of a celebrity romance.
No such luck.
“Waverly, Waverly!”
Frick.
I turned my head and saw two women waving frantically at me with huge smiles on their faces. They looked so excited that I couldn’t just ignore them, much as I wanted to. Then I remembered that fans were the only reason I had my job, so I decided to stop for a minute and be friendly.
I smiled and turned in their direction. As I approached them, I realized they looked familiar, but I had absolutely no idea where I’d seen them before. I smiled and put my hands on my hips. “Well hello there, did you enjoy the show?”
The shorter of the two held out her hand. “Waverly! It’s Marge and Evelyn, from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin? Do you remember us?”
Chippewa what?
She squeezed my hand. “We met you in Chicago, remember? We were at the scrapbooking convention?”
Suddenly it clicked. How could I forget Marge and Evelyn? How could I forget Marge’s banana clip? I stole a glance at their fingernails, which were still pink, acrylic, and square. How could I forget pink, acrylic, square fingernails? The two of them looked like they’d been cut and pasted from a Sears catalog, but they were so friendly that it was impossible not to like them.
Honey on Your Mind Page 16
