Read My Lips by Jane Sigaloff

thank you im waiting

Chapter One


Holly moved through the open-concept cubicles of All Talk TV trying to exude the air of someone returning from a breakfast meeting as opposed to someone who was late. Even for the television business, 10:45 a.m. was late.
Shrugging off her coat as she reached her desk, she saw her voice-mail light flashing. She hoped David wasn’t in a disciplinary mood. Her boss firmly believed that making examples of employees’ wrongdoings was good for the soul or team building, or something. But she needed to keep her job. Someone had to finance her Starbucks addiction, provide her with free pens and notepads and keep her warm and dry during the day.
In a single movement, Holly slipped into her chair and turned on her computer. However, stealth employee she apparently was not. Her phone rang immediately, displaying Sarah’s extension number.
“You okay?”
“Nightmare. Overslept.”
The two girls whispered into their handsets in an attempt to make their conversation inaudible.
“I thought you were supposed to be having an early night.” Sarah’s cube was diagonally opposite Holly’s, everything but her hair was masked by a partition. Even with twenty-first century anti-frizz products, Sarah’s unruly curls lived at the mercy of humidity.
“I did, but apparently my alarm clock ran out of juice at 3:57 a.m., but I clearly hadn’t run out of sleep for another five hours. Then I picked the most uncomfortable bra I own, I left the book I still haven’t quite finished reading for our book group tonight on the subway, I can’t find my Softlips anywhere even though I always have one in my coat pocket and one in my purse, and I’m starving but can’t pop out for breakfast because I’ve just lied to David’s secretary, who caught me sneaking in, so I told her I was just back from a breakfast meeting.” Having shared her debacle of a morning with her best office friend, Holly instantly felt better.
“Okay, breathe,” Sarah said in a calming tone. “I have Oreos and rice cakes in my drawer, French Vanilla and Vitamin Enriched Softlips in my purse and, if you can find a minute to read today, you’re welcome to borrow my copy of Mr. Marriage.”
Couching the phone between her shoulder and ear, Holly freed her hands to log on and open her email account. “I am so lucky to have my own in-house Jewish mother.”
“Hey! Make that sister! A heads-up—David has requested a meeting with all the assistant development producers at 3 p.m.”
Holly scribbled a reminder on a Post-it note and added it to the collection framing her computer screen. She had only four hours to come up with a new idea for David’s latest project. His suggestion of a “talk show meets reality TV” had been given the thumbs-up by the network brass. Now the production team had to turn the pitch into real program ideas. Coming up with the perfect concept would make the positive impact she needed to get on the shortlist for a promotion. At this rate, she wasn’t going to get her house-by-the-beach lifestyle while she still looked good in a bikini. In career terms, she’d started out at the bottom and had only worked her way to the crowded middle. Booking and researching guests for talk shows was hardly going to win her an Emmy. But David was giving her a chance, letting her develop her ideas, and she had to make the most of it.
“Before you start panicking again, I think you’ve got some good ideas. David’s going to love them,” Sarah added.
“Thanks.” Holly smiled to herself as she caught sight of her printed proposal at the top of the pile of her inbox. Sarah never collected anything from the printer without reading it. “Gotta go. Other line is flashing.”
“Holly Frederick.” Holly started to scan the rest of her inbox for anything urgent.
“Hol, it’s me.”
“Will?” Holly’s vital signs went into free fall. Focusing on the facts, she managed to rein herself in. He was calling two days early. Which could only mean good news?
His voice didn’t sound upbeat. “I’m glad I caught you in person.”
Would he really have left his decision on her voice mail? Holly gripped the phone tighter.
Will cleared his throat. “I—I just wanted to say that I think it would be better if we ended it.”
No Hello. No How are you? No This is really hard on me. Maybe voice mail would have been gentler.
“I—I… You…” Holly had to force herself to complete a sentence. “I thought we’d agreed that we had until the end of the month.” She should’ve known that today was going to be The-Day-It-All-Went-Wrong. It wasn’t as if the day had started off well.
“Which gives us two more days, but I don’t see the point in making this any more drawn-out than it has been already.” Will’s voice was emotionless.
Powerless against the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, she tilted her head back fractionally to keep them in check, her nostrils flaring as she struggled to keep her breathing as normal as possible. “So, this is it?”
“There’s no need to be so dramatic.”
“We’ve been dating for five years, living together for two. I think that means I can be as friggin’ dramatic as I like.” Despite wanting to yell it at him, Holly kept her volume to a minimum. That’s as undramatic as she was prepared to get—and even then, it was only for the sake of personal privacy. She couldn’t believe how composed Will sounded and how ridiculously inside-out she felt at his pronouncement. It’s not as if she’d wanted to marry him.
“Look, you were right. We needed a break,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
Besides, she had wanted to be the one making the decision. The whole point of initiating a break was to make Will miss her like crazy and finally understand her point of view. Just because she didn’t get the white-dress thing didn’t mean she couldn’t love him.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking and from where I’m sitting there’s no going back. Too much has changed.”
“So we’re done?” Holly could fake pragmatism with the best of them.
“Are you okay?”
“Sure.” More like anything but. “I’ve got to go.” Hanging up, she grabbed her cell and walked to the bathroom as calmly as she could. This was shaping up to be the worst day of her entire life—and it wasn’t even lunchtime.
* * *
Holly splashed more cold water onto her blotchy face. Within minutes, despair had replaced shock, and now anger was settling in.
She’d planned to suggest they make one last-ditch effort before giving up on five relatively happy—okay, maybe four of them were relatively happy—years together, but she’d been so shocked to hear from Will before the deadline that she’d completely forgotten her well-thought-out argument. Besides, begging just wasn’t her style. What’s worse, Will was probably right, damn him.
And he’d changed.
Drying her face, she took a long look at herself in the mirror. Her hair needed highlighting, she could do with a tan—fake or otherwise, her mascara clearly wasn’t waterproof despite its advertising claims, and her horrible bra was giving her breasts an unnatural shape. That said, she knew she wasn’t unattractive. And she was going to be fine. She had several Destiny’s Child albums, an unopened tub of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food in the freezer and—Holly forced herself to take a deep breath—five people coming to her apartment for drinks and a book group discussion at 7 p.m.
If only Will had called her at home this morning:
a) She might not have overslept.
b) She could have invented a urinary tract infection, called in sick, canceled the book club meeting and been able to self-indulgently wallow in pajama-clad heartache.
She straightened her shoulders and forced a smile on her reflection in the mirror. A night with the girls was exactly what a newly-single gal needed.
The double-beep of her phone threatened her improvised positive attitude. With trepidation, Holly peered at the incoming text message.
PS NEED 2 HEAD 2 APT 2 FETCH SOME THINGS L8R THIS AFTERNOON HOPE IS OK SPK SOON W
The man was a coward. Holly resisted the urge to hurl her cell phone against the tiled interior of the bathroom, not least because right now she needed to call Laura and make plans. Thirty-one years old and she had just been dumped by her boyfriend. Time to call the same person she’d called every time she was dumped since she was thirteen.
* * *
Holly sprinted out of the elevator, through the minimalist lobby and out of the revolving door, straight into the other man in her life. David.
“Holly? Is everything okay?”
Steam snaked out through his Starbucks lid, its rich aroma reminding Holly that she still hadn’t had breakfast.
“Sure,” Holly lied.
“All set for the meeting this afternoon?”
“You bet.” Holly tried to appear as though she were rushing out on urgent business, despite the fact the only thing she carried was her cell phone.
“Great. Great. And I gather you had a breakfast meeting earlier…”
Holly could feel him studying her. She just held her lips in the same forced smile.
“Impressive.” David nodded. “And your work on last season’s show was terrific. But go easy. I don’t want you to burn out before the New Year.”
“Thanks.” Holly made sure she pressed Save on the moment. A compliment from David was as rare as finding a matching pair of shoes that fit in the sale rack.
Though his smile was kind, his eyes were searching hers for an explanation for her mad dash outdoors. Holly started to walk away. The last thing she needed right now was David Brooks being uncharacteristically interested in her every move.
Assertively, Holly marched away from All Talk’s office in Times Square, her cell clamped to her ear, preparing to sound as buoyant as possible and thanking the real estate gods for making the Palmers and the Fredericks neighbors in the ‘80s.
“Laura Palmer, please.”
“Who’s calling?”
“Holly Frederick.”
Relishing the feeling of cold air on her face but wishing she had her tweed coat for the rest of her, Holly headed east on 42nd Street and made straight for a bench in Bryant Park.
Laura’s sunny tones flooded through Holly’s cell. “Hi, gorgeous. I’m so glad you called—you must be psychic. You won’t believe what just happened to me!”

Chapter Two


Laura had just stolen Holly’s line— “you won’t believe what just happened to me” —although it sounded very much like Laura’s news was going to be a lot better than hers.
“Remember Christopher?” Laura’s energy was almost infectious.
“Your boss?” Holly suppressed a shiver and switched her cell phone from one ear to the other. It was a perfect New York City fall day: high pressure, clear blue skies, glorious sunshine, but breathtakingly cold. What’s more, her new tweed coat was currently keeping her office chair warm. The chair she was supposed to be sitting on instead of this bench. “Christopher with the apartment in TriBeCa, parents with a house at the beach?” Compared to Laura, Holly had clearly made it only into the Little League of dating so far.
“Exactly. He asked me out.”
“I thought you two have been having a thing for a while?” Holly sighed. She had called wanting her best friend to commiserate with her; instead Laura’s positivity was threatening to spoil the desolate mood. And, unfortunately, the faint annoyance in her voice was masked by the New York street sounds all around her.
“Okay, so there have been a few unofficial moments. And before you say it, I know it isn’t really ethical, but since I’ve been promoted I don’t report directly to him…and you have to admit, he’s such an improvement on some of the dates I’ve been on before. Well, I mean at least I’ve actually met him.” Laura laughed and Holly recalled her friend’s recent blind-dating and speed-dating disasters. Sex and the city wasn’t quite as easy as the television show claimed.
“Anyway, he sent me flowers this morning and then asked me out. And just when I thought there were no gentlemen left in Manhattan. It’s all I can do not to skip to the watercooler.”
“That’s great, Laura.” Placing her free palm over her eyes, Holly attempted to block out the rest of the world and her day. “Christopher is no less than you deserve.” Despite her genuine delight for her best friend, she knew that her enthusiasm sounded more wooden than Pinocchio. “Does he have a brother by any chance?”
“Holly? Are you okay?”
“Oh, fine.” Suddenly overcome by exhaustion, Holly wasn’t even sure she could dredge up the energy to explain. Except that if Laura didn’t know, it hadn’t really happened, since her childhood friend was privy to everything. “I mean apart from the fact that I overslept this morning, I’ve got a huge deadline and Will called me to tell me it’s over. He’s going to the apartment this afternoon to pick up some stuff.” She absently rubbed her now aching forehead. “Any chance we could meet for a quick drink or nine before the book club? Ha ha.” It was meant to be a laugh, and it had started well, but ended as more of a sob.
“Oh my God, Holly. Where are you? Never mind. I can’t leave work until the London financial markets have closed. Darling, are you sure you’re holding it together?” Even though Holly and Will had had nearly five good years together, Laura was no doubt wishing she had never introduced the two of them.
“Really—” Holly sniffed “—I’m fine. Absolutely shittily fine, but alive, kicking, in denial, relieved and distraught all at the same time. You don’t need to worry.”
“Of course I’m going to worry.”
“I just wanted you to know.”
“And here I am, going on and on about my new guy. You should have stopped me.”
“It’s great news for you.”
“Will must be insane to even consider letting you go. Can’t you dump work and go home? Maybe if you could talk to him face-to-face?”
“Uh-uh. I’ve only just got in, and I’ve got a big meeting at 3 p.m. Plus, I probably don’t need to watch Will decimate our CD collection.”
“So that’s it then?”
When Holly’s phone beeped in her ear for the third time, she decided she couldn’t continue to ignore the rest of the world. Peering at the screen, she saw that the number was blocked. Maybe Will was on someone else’s phone? Maybe he had lost his keys? Or maybe George Clooney had heard that she was feeling a bit down, was in town for the afternoon and wanted to volunteer to appear in a couple of her shows and then, of course, take her on the dream date of a lifetime.
“Laura, can you hold for a second?” Without waiting for a response, she pressed Send to accept the new call. “Holly Frederick.”
“Where are you?” Sarah whispered. “David’s looking for you.” A police siren drowned out her next words. “…outside?” Sarah couldn’t have sounded any more disapproving. “Have you started smoking again?”
“Of course not.” The idea did suddenly seem appealing, though. “Look, if you see him again, tell him I’ll be ten minutes, max.” What was it with him today?
Holly hung up and switched back to Laura. Clearly she should’ve checked her horoscope—or should that have been horrorscope? —this morning. Mars and Saturn must really be pissing Venus off at the moment.
* * *
Panting, Holly ran up the stairs up to her second-floor apartment. Not only was this day determined not to end, she was now late for her monthly book club meeting. At least she’d burned a few hundred calories during the rush home, which was good because she’d felt the need for two restorative shots of caramel in her non-skinny latte earlier. She’d been practically hallucinating about a bottle of wine since she’d stepped foot out of her cubicle. When the going got tough, this girl craved calories.
Laura greeted her at her own front door.
“I’m so sorry, Laura.” Holly tried to even out her breathing, and peeled off several layers as her body did its best to regulate her temperature. “Only David would delay a meeting by two hours and then expect everyone to be available. Thanks for coming early to let everyone in. I owe you big-time.”
“How was the meeting?”
“Not bad. To be continued tomorrow. Too many ideas to get through.”
“Which can only be a good thing, right?” Laura was a banker. Ideas in her office were reserved for what designer items to spend your bonus on.
“I guess.” Holly hung her coat on one of the hooks next to the front door. “So, is everyone here yet?” She could hear the murmur of voices coming from the living room.
Laura nodded before enveloping Holly in the sort of bear hug reserved for best friends in a crisis. Just as she felt her emotions begin to surrender to the stress of her day, Holly wrestled herself free.
“Not now.”
Laura took a step back and pretended to fix her hair instead. “Got it.”
Holly glanced at her best friend. Something was different. “What’s going on with your chin?”
Reflexively hiding her chin with her fingers, Laura blushed. “Can you still see it?”
“They might be a little on the puffy side today, but I still have eyes.”
Laura giggled sheepishly.
“Is it an unidentified dating injury?”
“I guess my sensitive skin just isn’t used to Chris’s five o’clock shadow.”
Holly smiled. “The rest of you, on the other hand, looks fabulous.” Her best friend was glowing.
“So,” Laura hedged, “please don’t take this the wrong way—I mean, you look amazing all things considered, but you’ve looked better.”
Holly nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve felt better, too. Although I can’t help feeling that after months of uncertainty and emotional yo-yoing, at least we can now both move forward.”
“That’s my girl.”
“I just wish I’d been the one to break up with him. That said, I don’t want to tell everyone yet. Well, not tonight at least.”
“You don’t?” Laura asked.
“Not really. I’m not sure I’m ready to have my relationship picked apart by everyone yet.”
Laura nodded but looked distracted. No doubt thinking of her own situation.
“Look, I may not be entirely myself this evening but deep down, I know it’s not the end of the world. It’s definitely for the best. I mean, I could have married him two years ago when he asked.”
“Except it’s not what you wanted. And you don’t believe in marriage.”
“It’s outdated. I’m not interested in belonging to anyone.”
“Holly Frederick, superfeminist.”
“Or at least I’m not interested in belonging to Will,” she admitted aloud for the first time.
Laura nodded. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“Never say never, and all that, but I just can’t see myself doing the aisle thing.”
“Maybe if you meet the right man…”
Holly smiled at Laura’s new date-related optimism and applied a fresh coat of Softlips before entering the arena. If only her life could be as reliable as her lip balm.
“Meanwhile, just think of the money you’ve saved. One white dress equals a hell of a lot of footwear.”
Holly let out a genuine laugh for the first time that day. Laura had always managed to find a silver lining in everything. She squeezed her best friend’s arm gratefully as she prepared to make her entrance. “Thanks for being you, Laura.”

Chapter Three


“To Holly.” Katie stood, brandishing her glass of white wine so assertively that the upward force almost caused the wine to splash over the rim.
“Holly.” The other members of the book group joined in the toast.
Ambushed in her own living room. As Sarah handed her a glass of chilled wine—the only remedy she hadn’t been able to procure from her desk drawer at the office—Holly resisted the overwhelming urge to glare at Laura.
“Because you’re much better off without him.” Ella, Holly’s upstairs neighbor and founding member of their book group, couldn’t have been more enthusiastic. “Just think you’ll never have to watch another Vin Diesel film.”
Holly was slightly surprised at her fervor. Ella had always seemed to get along well with Will. Two struggling artists in an unjust world.
“Or the Mets.” Katie was a die-hard Yankee fan. Or at least she preferred their logo. “Or order deep-crust pizzas, or listen to Nirvana.”
Her designer glasses propped atop her head to keep her long blond hair off her face, Katie seated herself in the armchair and started flicking through a magazine as Holly reminded herself that her little sister was only trying to help.
“We could always leave the discussion until next month. You know, if you think it might be too hard on you.” Mona’s concern was wide-eyed. Her messy short dark hair the only clue that she had two small children, she looked immaculate in fashionable jeans and a sweater, and her manicure was the best in the room.
“No, really, I’m fine.” Holly knew Mona less than the others and yet her empathy was tangible and threatened to send her over the edge. “I’m much better when I’ve got something to do.”
“I just wish we’d picked a different book now.” Laura grinned, as if hoping to disperse some of the tension.
“I think it’s pretty fitting, actually.” Holly suddenly felt very up to discussing the book. “Maybe the battle of the sexes has really gone full circle. Now that women have realized the extent and the diversity of their abilities, maybe they don’t want to limit their potential by settling down to look after a man. I, for one, don’t blame them.”
Ella, still single at forty-two, whooped approvingly, the bangles on her wrist jangling as she punched the air. “You go, girlfriend.”
As Holly took her place on the couch, she couldn’t help but notice the others watching her every move. “Hey, we were already on a break and things hadn’t been good for a few months. And if you were wondering, yes, Laura has a very red chin because she’s been kissing a new man…” Diversion tactics seemed the best course of action at this point—and they had the added bonus of reaping some revenge for blabbing.
Mona giggled as Laura blushed. Katie replaced her glasses to peer at Laura’s chin before rummaging in her bag and silently handing over her Touche Éclat. To Holly’s amusement, Laura took it gratefully.
“I’d just let it breathe.” Sarah, ever practical, was the first with real advice. “Until you next see him, of course. You should also seriously consider buying him one of those extreme razors for Christmas.”
“I’d make it Thanksgiving. I’m not sure your chin is going to make it until the end of December.” Ella laughed heartily at her own joke. She seemed to be even more high-energy and louder than usual, something Holly hadn’t considered possible.
“Thanks for the advice. Now, can we please move on?” Laura poked Holly’s arm just a little bit too hard for it to be merely an affectionate gesture.
“You didn’t think you were going to get away keeping any secrets with Ella in the room, did you?” Holly grinned. “I just thought I’d get in there before she did. Besides, read-my-lips,” she enunciated slowly, “I’m fine.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re so upbeat.” Mona raised her glass to Holly. “Relationships can get pretty messy.” She took a sip before continuing. “At least Will never got your name wrong when you were in bed together.”
“What?” Ella’s voice stretched the one-syllable word into an octave.
Suddenly shy, Mona studied the floor, nervously twirling the hair at the nape of her neck. “It only happened one time. Joe and I hadn’t been together for that long and you should have seen the look on his face when he realized he’d shouted out the wrong name. But I guess everyone makes mistakes.”
“There are mistakes and there are mistakes.” Clearly shocked, Sarah was still doing her best to be diplomatic.
“I would have walked out.” Katie shook her head incredulously. Like all college students before her, she was sure her generation was the most assertive yet. “What are you, some sort of martyr? Where’s your self-respect?”
“Hey, easy there,” Ella cut in. “Life’s complicated sometimes.” Holly had always thought that Ella would have been the perfect Oprah if Oprah hadn’t gotten there first. Instead, she did voice-over work, assistant-managed a bookstore and performed the occasional bit part in off-Broadway plays, eternally waiting for her big break.
Holly kept silent, grateful to Mona that the attention was no longer solely on her. Turning toward the kitchen, she noticed an enormous and beautiful bunch of flowers dwarfing the breakfast bar. Probably from Laura. Plus enough ******s and bottles of wine to replace any heartache with a heart attack. She was surprised “I Will Survive” wasn’t playing in the background. Despite herself she was grateful not to be alone. There’d be plenty of time for that, starting tomorrow. And there really was no time like girl-time.
“It sure is.” Mona said, sitting up straighter.
“And there are always two sides to every story,” Sarah said, empathetic as ever.
Katie made a retching noise. “Oh, puh-lease. Surely you would be out of there in a flash if you had any self-respect.”
“Hey, this is my life you’re talking about. Wait until you’ve been around the block a couple more times.”
Katie examined her cuticles in a gesture of tacit apology. Holly wished her sister would just come out and say sorry, but Mona, apparently satisfied, continued. “It wasn’t cut-and-dried,” Mona said in her own defense. “Sarah’s right. Plus, we have children. And marriage is for life, not just for Christmas.”
Holly decided to break up the witches of the Westside before it got nasty. None of them knew Mona well enough to be playing judge or jury. “Don’t forget, men are simple creatures. We all know they can only concentrate on one thing at a time. I mean Will couldn’t even chew and change the TV channel simultaneously.” This breakup ordeal was looking better and better all the time.
Mona flashed her hostess a grateful smile as the group shared a laugh.
“Jonathan can’t read the paper if the radio is on,” Sarah said with a grin, “whereas I have been known to mentally write a shopping list while having sex.” She looked as if she wanted to take them back as soon as the words left her mouth. Despite being only in her late twenties, she was the most prudish of the group, and they all knew it.
Holly came to her rescue. “Life indeed seems to be less of a rich tapestry and more of a patchwork quilt. But I guess that’s what keeps it interesting.”
“Right.” Ella, group member with the loudest voice and the clearest diction, waded in to get their evening back on course. “Has everyone got their copy of the book with them?”
Four dog-eared copies of Mr. Marriage were pulled from bags around the room. Sarah moved closer to Holly so she could share her copy.
Mr. Marriage had shot straight to the top of the New York Times bestseller list and stayed there. A MANual for the twenty-first century, it claimed that men were now keener than women to tie the knot. Speculation over its anonymous author had prompted debate from coast to coast, shore to shore, book club to book club. Its distinctive red-and-blue cover could be seen everywhere.
“Well, I really enjoyed it,” Sarah started. “And it was pretty accurate, too. Jonathan was dying to get married long before I was and we were only twenty-five when we did.”
“Freaks,” Katie half muttered to herself as she eased off her Ugg boots and tucked her feet underneath her. At twenty-one years old, her longest relationship had lasted five months. Holly knew she couldn’t imagine volunteering to spend a lifetime with someone until she was at least thirty. And that was forever away.
Ella glared at her then focused on Sarah. “Why do you think you and Jonathan decided to get hitched so young?”
Sarah shrugged. “Wanting to have a family before we’re thirty, wanting to enjoy being married before we had kids, plus, both our parents married young.”
“Do you think we all base our expectations for marriage on our parents?” Ella looked thoughtful.
Laura was the first off the mark. “Definitely. Mine are divorced and I no longer look at marriage as the be-all and end-all. I figure if you’re married for ten to twenty years that’s pretty good.”
Mona nodded. “My parents’ divorce made me more determined to make my marriage work. But I think the author makes some very valid points. Marriage isn’t high on most women’s agenda anymore until their early thirties, when they start thinking about having children. With guys, it’s like they have a checklist of accomplishments and a wife is one of them. If they’re falling behind their friends, they start to panic.”
“Until, of course, another beautiful woman comes along.” Holly couldn’t help it. She and Katie had watched their father lust after women throughout their parents’ marriage while her mother, trapped and resolutely determined to be a good mother, had pretended not to care. Men might want to be married, but did they really want to be faithful?
A thoughtful murmur rippled through the group. Holly paused for effect before continuing as Mona started to fiddle with her watch strap.
“And men are definitely keener to have children earlier, probably because they don’t have to actually do anything except have sex. If men had to give birth…well, for a start they’d want danger pay and a maternity leave that rivals Sweden’s.” Holly downed what was left in her glass.
“So…” Ella seized control of the discussion as Sarah refilled everyone’s glasses. “Do we think the author is a man or a woman?”
“I think she’s a woman.” Laura was emphatic. “There’s a lot of emotional intelligence in the book.”
“But why bother keeping your identity a secret?” The concept of anonymity was clearly wasted on Katie. Growing up in the era of celebrity overexposure, she felt it was her right to know everything about everyone in the public eye—preferably with a selection of revealing photos alongside, too.
Laura was the first to offer a reply. “Keeping the author anonymous was great PR. Look how fast it’s selling.”
Mona shook her head. “I don’t think it’s about PR. I think it’s a matter of hurt pride. If you’d been rejected several times and had bared your soul on paper, do you think you’d want to admit to it? Maybe writing the book was the author’s way of dealing with what had happened to him. I think it’s got to be a man behind it.”
Laura shrugged her shoulders, unconvinced. “Even more reason to come out and tell all. Unless…” Laura had a new theory “…it was written by a public figure.”
“Most public figures can’t get enough publicity.” Katie might have been the youngest there, but she definitely understood celebrities and media frenzies.
Holly zoned in and out of the discussion. As her gaze flitted around the room, she realized her apartment was intact. The bookcases were still overflowing; the CD collection was still towering precariously next to the fireplace. The only things that seemed to be missing were a few photos, and their absence was bound to be due to tactful tidying by Laura and Katie. Holly bet Will hadn’t noticed them for months before he’d moved out for their break.
The discussion paused mid-sentence as a familiar noise, initially barely audible over the lively debates, caught everyone’s attention. The telephone. To pick up or not to pick up—that was the question. There was no such thing as a quick call with her mother and anyone else could probably wait or would call her cell. After the fourth ring, the answering machine kicked in and seconds later, Will’s voice filled the apartment.