by Meg Cabot
So. Dish. What’s the verdict? Don’t let me down, darlin’, I got a fifty riding on this. . . .
Tim
* * *
To: Tim Grabowksi
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: Mitchell Hertzog
Could you be more gay? Actually, he apparently came in to have a little powwow with the T.O.D. She looks pretty upset about it, so it must have been about Ida Lopez. You know she’s been getting grief about that from the 25th floor. In fact, she’s on the phone right now, probably to her fiancé, complaining about his brother’s cavalier attitude.
Mitchell just came out of her office and bumped into Kate, who was on her way to the copier. They are exchanging pleasantries.
Will that win you your fifty? Wait, were you for or against?
ComputerGuy: SPILL! What’re they saying now?
Sleaterkinneyfan: Tim! Is that you?
ComputerGuy: Who else would it be? No time for pleasantries. Of course I couldn’t be more gay. I AM gay. Now what are they talking about? Has he asked her out yet?
Sleaterkinneyfan: Oh my God. You computer people have no life. Okay, wait, let me just lean over here a little. . . .
She’s apologizing for the lobby scene. He’s saying, “You mean guys don’t show up in your lobby bearing roses and singing love ballads to you every day?”
ComputerGuy: Ooooooooooooo. Is it true he’s over six feet tall and has a full head of hair?
Sleaterkinneyfan: Yes. And I should add, he’s quite buff. For a lawyer.
ComputerGuy: WHY ARE ALL THE GOOD ONES STRAIGHT?????????
Sleaterkinneyfan: Now Kate’s laughing. Oh, God, she’s nervous as hell. She keeps tossing her hair.
ComputerGuy: Hair tossing is good. What now?
Sleaterkinneyfan: Shit! Kate’s 4:30 appointment just walked in. Dolly Vargas.
ComputerGuy: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
Sleaterkinneyfan: Oh, yes. Like a heat-seeking missile, Dolly’s already got Mitchell in her sights . . . she’s centering on him . . . oh yes, and going in for the kill.
ComputerGuy: Abort! Abort! Don’t just sit on your ass, Sadler! DO something!
Sleaterkinneyfan: What am I supposed to do, Tim? Dolly’s the Style Editor. She’s wearing stiletto boots with a freaking Prada leather trenchcoat, and knowing Dolly, I can’t promise you she has anything on underneath it. The guy is going down. . . .
ComputerGuy: Our fair Kate will prevail! Because she is modest and cares about others. . . . Aw, hell, because Dolly’s pushing 40 and starting to look it.
Sleaterkinneyfan: Wrong! He’s leaving. With Dolly.
ComputerGuy: No!!!!!!!! Has a date with our fair Kate been secured?
Sleaterkinneyfan: Ew, Dolly’s taking his arm. She is escorting him to elevators!
ComputerGuy: HAS DATE BEEN SECURED?
Sleaterkinneyfan: Can’t let you know till after Kate’s meeting with Dolly. . . . No . . . wait . . . Kate’s looking this way. She’s signaling. . . .
ComputerGuy: WHAT?????? DON’T LEAVE US HANGING HERE.
Sleaterkinneyfan: Negative. That’s a negative. He did not ask her out. Repeat. He did not ask her out.
ComputerGuy: The horror. Oh, the horror.
Sleaterkinneyfan: Hey, we tried, okay? We’ll get him next time, champ.
ComputerGuy: Next time? I can’t go through this again. Oh, God, I need a Campari.
I am actually moist beneath the pits.
Sleaterkinneyfan: Dolly is returning from elevators. She has a sly, cat-who-swallowed-canary look on her face. . . .
ComputerGuy: Are you surprised? We all know she swallows.
Sleaterkinneyfan: Ew! This conversation is over.
Sleaterkinneyfan: logged off
* * *
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Dolly Vargas
Re: You
Katie, sweetie, it was LOVELY seeing you this afternoon. I didn’t know you were friends with Mitch Hertzog. Isn’t he a lamb? He helped me out of the most horrendous jam with one of my exes. . . . I met him at a benefit for heart disease. Mitch, not the ex. Hertzog Senior’s a longtime Heart Association benefactor . . . although more, I think, because he’s hoping to benefit from the research himself more than because he actually wants to help others. Mitch is the black sheep of the family—a major disappointment to his parents, from what I understand. You know, he worked for a few years as a public defender. He tried very hard to give all manner of horrible people the vigorous defense they so badly needed but could not afford. Something about giving back to the community.
Still, in spite of that little lapse in judgment, he’s yummy. SO unlike his loathsome older brother. Did I tell you Stuart Hertzog once nearly got into a fistfight with a city councilwoman at a Trent (of the Park Avenue Trents, darling—Stuart and Mitchell’s sister is married to one) fundraiser? A FISTFIGHT, darling . . . something about the New York City school system, I can’t remember what. I think Stuart felt like, since he didn’t have kids, why should he pay so much in taxes for upkeep of the public school system? So the councilwoman told him because the schools were educating today’s children to be tomorrow’s doctors, and didn’t he think he’d need healthcare in his old age, and Stuart said over his dead body would he ever go to a doctor who’d received a public-school education. Well, you can see why she wanted to hit him).
Anyway, darling, why didn’t you TELL me that you and your scruffy little musician had broken up? I feel just awful, regaling you daily with stories of my own romantic conquests, never knowing that you were sitting there the whole time with your poor little heart all broken to bits. Is it true he caused that ruckus in the lobby today? I thought at the very least we’d had a bomb threat. But how perfectly ROMANTIC (if what I hear is true) that yummy Mitchell came to your rescue! Well, Mitch and the paper’s crack security staff, anyway.
And what is this I hear about you sleeping on various people’s couches since you left the little parasite—I mean, Dale? Sweetie, you’re insane. Come stay with me and Peter! We have plenty of space—there’s a guest room and everything. And you needn’t worry . . . Peter’s hardly ever there. He’s got shared custody with the kiddies from the first wife . . . or maybe his second . . . well, anyway, he’s only in our little pied-a-terre a few days a week. The rest of the time, he’s in Scarsdale with the junior Hargraves. It’d be a THRILL to have a roomie. We can have oodles of girl talk, order in horrible fattening foods, and watch Candida Royale videos all night long. . . . Oh, say YES!
You can move in tonight. Peter’s got some school function to attend with one of the kiddies. Let me know when you’ll be coming by, so I can tell Xavier (the doorman, sweetie).
XXXOOO
Dolly
* * *
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Tonight
Listen, DON’T GET UPSET, but Dolly Vargas has invited me to stay at her place for a few days, and I think I’m going to take her up on it. You and Craig deserve a break from houseguests. I mean, from what I saw in the kitchen the other day, you guys really need some privacy. . . .
I’ll come home with you to pick up my stuff, then be out of your hair by 9, I SWEAR.
Kate
* * *
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: Tonight
Are you INSANE? You’re moving in with DOLLY VARGAS???? Jesus, Kate, I know our couch isn’t all that comfortable, but aren’t you going a bit overboard? I mean, the woman was wearing a MINK VEST the other day. INDOORS.
I can understand your being tired of all the Ramen and wanting some lobster bisque, but really, Kate. Do you honestly think she’s going to let you sit through an entire episode of Charmed without asking
you a half million times if she looks fat in whatever new outfit she’s planning on wearing to whatever fabulous party she’s attending that night?
At least I let you get your daily dose of Alyssa Milano without interruption.
Come on. Stay. I know East End is tempting, but really, everybody here on West 83rd loves you, too.
J
* * *
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Nice Try
Come on. You know having me constantly underfoot is putting this total crimp in your baby-making. And I am perfectly aware of the fact that it’s NCAA championship time, and that all Craig wants is his couch back.
Besides, maybe if I’m not there, Dale will stop, you know, terrorizing every delivery man who walks into your vestibule. And Dolly’s got a doorman, so even if Dale finds out where I’m staying, it’s not like he’s going to be able to get into the building.
Really, Jen, it’s just better for everybody, all around.
Well, except maybe for Dolly.
Is the T.O.D. still crying? Has anybody figured out what Mitch said to her?
Kate
* * *
To: Craig Sadler
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: Tonight
Oh my God, you have got to do something!!!! Kate is threatening to move out! She’s throwing herself on the mercy of the paper’s Style Editor, Dolly Vargas. Dolly Vargas, who is sleeping with the founder and CEO of the paper I work for. While I’d like to think she’s moving in with Dolly in order to subtly hint to Hargrave that he should hire back Ida Lopez and can the T.O.D., I can’t help feeling she’s doing it because our couch sucks so much.
E-mail her and tell her she’s NOT getting in the way and that you want her to stay.
PLEASE?
J
* * *
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Craig Sadler
Re: Kate
Um, why would I want to do that? Convince Kate to stay, I mean? Don’t get me wrong, I like Kate—of all your freaky friends, she is the ONLY one I could stand sleeping on my couch for the past four weeks.
But, Jen. It’s been a month. I know Kate doesn’t have much money and the NYC real estate scene is crazy. I am not blaming Kate AT ALL for not having been able to find a decent place to live. But I would really, really, really, really like to have my couch back.
And our privacy.
Come on, Jen. We’re trying to make a baby here.
And frankly, this stuff with Dale? Getting REAL old, Jen. I mean, I had limited patience with him back in school, when he was always leaving those pizza boxes lying around and scratching his balls in front of everyone—like because the guy’s a musician, he has some right not to act like a civilized human being.
The constant phone calls, notes slid under our door, harassment of our neighbors until they buzz him in, and, though you and Kate were at the movies at the time, his singing “Ice Weasels Gnaw My Brain” from the street at the top of his lungs? Not cute, gifted musician or no.
Let her go. Maybe she’ll be able to convince this Hargrave guy to give YOU the T.O.D.’s job. Kate can be very persuasive, when she pulls that corn-fed Kentucky farmgirl thing.
Kate moving out is a GOOD thing, Jenny. Remember that. It’s a GOOD thing.
Craig
From the Desk of
Kate Mackenzie
* * *
Hi, Amy. Your phone seems to be on send all calls. Tried knocking, but you didn’t answer. Just wanted to let you know that I met with Dolly Vargas re: the Hector Montaya thing, and she’s agreed to go through the sexual harassment workshop one more time. Hopefully third time will be the charm, and it will stick!
Hope you have a good weekend, and see you on Monday. And I’m so sorry, again, for what happened in the lobby this afternoon. I promise it won’t happen again. At least, I don’t think it will. Well, I hope it won’t.
Kate
Kathleen A. Mackenzie
Personnel Representative, LZ
Human Resources
The New York Journal
216 W. 57th Street
New York, NY 10019
212-555-6891
[email protected]
* * *
To: Mitch Hertzog
Fr: Dolly Vargas
Re: Kate
Well, darling, it’s all settled. She’s coming over tonight. I feel positively giddy with self-congratulation at how easily I managed it. The girl is simply desperate for 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.
I guess a month in someone’s living room can do that to a person.
So tell me the truth—you owe me that much, because you know it isn’t every day I open my doors to a human resources representative, even if she is a perfect treasure, with her “you all’s” and “fixin’ some suppers”—are you in love with her? Because I understand you only just met her, so maybe things are moving a little fast, even for me.
On the other hand, I perfectly understand the attraction. There’s nothing a big hulking man like you finds harder to resist than little damsels in distress like our own Mayberry miss. Speaking of hulking . . . You’ve been working out, haven’t you, sweetie? Don’t try denying it. Are you still on that paraplegic basketball team, or whatever it is? The one where you pretend like you’re in a wheelchair and play ball with all of those boys who really are in wheelchairs? Well, let me just say, it’s working, you’ve got some real upper-body definition going on under that Tweety Bird tie or whatever it was you had on. I wish you’d ask Peter to join your little team, or whatever it is. He needs a hobby, poor thing.
And God knows, he could use the workout.
God! This is so FUN! Promise you won’t break her heart, though. Because that would be a real buzz kill. Kind of like when Peter brings his kiddies over.
Oh, God, I’ve got the Prada show. Ciao for now.
XXXOOO
Dolly
* * *
To: Dolly Vargas
Fr: Mitch Hertzog
Re: Kate
There is no licentious motive behind my request that you offer Ms. Mackenzie a place to stay. She merely seems like a person who needs a helping hand . . . and whose hands are more competent than yours, Dolly?
Thanks again.
Mitch
* * *
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Stuart Hertzog
Re: Amy
Just what are you trying to do, anyway? You had no right to go to Amy’s office today and attempt to intimidate her like that. She is a sweet young woman, not one of those hardened criminals you’re used to dealing with. She will schedule an appointment with you for pretrial discovery when I say she can . . . and that will be when she is good and ready to, and not before.
And what is this letter you keep going on about? Amy keeps impeccable records, so whatever this letter is you keep nagging her about, I’m certain it’s in that pie lady’s file.
God, you are SUCH an asshole. I really thought Stacy might have been able to get through to you, but I see now that you’re too far gone.
Which is a pity. You had real potential.
But now I know you’re just as depraved as those pimps and murderers you helped put back out on the street.
Stuart Hertzog, Senior Partner
Hertzog Webber and Doyle, Attorneys at Law
444 Madison Avenue, Suite 1505
New York, NY 10022
212-555-7900
* * *
To: Stuart Hertzog
Fr: Mitchell Hertzog
Re: Amy
That’s funny. I thought you were the deprav
ed one. After all, aren’t you the one who made your fiancée fire a woman, merely because she wouldn’t give you a piece of pie?
Ms. Jenkins seems to be somewhat nervous concerning her case against Mrs. Lopez. I understand that while a verbal warning was issued, a written letter of warning, however, was not. I believe that, according to her collective bargaining agreement, the delivery—and acknowledgment—of such a letter is necessary before steps toward permanent dismissal can be taken.
But Mrs. Lopez says she never received such a letter. Strange, isn’t it, that she was fired anyway?
And not to spoil your illusions, sporto, but your “sweet young girl” can fight her own battles. She has a mouth on her like a longshoreman. She actually called me a fucker, if memory serves. . . . Oh, and wait, it does, since I taped our brief but oh-so-illuminating conversation in her office.
