Page 62 of Love Her

“How much longer can you make it?” I asked her.

“As long as it takes,” she said, picking her head up, and giving me a sad smile.

“I’ve got you, little girl, I swear.”

I watched her set her shoulders and softly nod.

“Go to sleep. I’ll watch over you,” I said, and hung up—then did as I promised, waiting as she walked into view and out again, putting on pajamas and presumably brushing her teeth, before tucking herself into bed, where she waved at me.

I sent herGoodnight,as a text, and then watched her sleep, working the angles on speeding up my plans, until I also fell asleep, in my chair, at my desk.

32

LIA

Idid my own make-up for the New York Chronicle’s Notable Knot page, seeing as no one ever looked good in newsprint—and I met their current editor, Tammy Rosenfeld, at a posh coffee shop to talk behind seventeen-dollar lattes by nine.

“It’s really great to meet you!” she said, handing a manicured hand over for me to shake. I did, and we both sat back down. She’d found us a sunny spot, and had a pad of paper and a Graf von Faber-Castell Perfect Pencil out—an accoutrement I assumed I’d never see again, after boarding school—along with her phone, sitting between us, where I figured it would be a recorder.

“Thanks, I’ve really been looking forward to this,” I told her, and that, at least, was true.

Because she’d taken over Isabelle Selvaggio’s old job, and I was wondering how much she knew about her predecessor.

“Shall we start?”

“Sure.”

She asked me about our venue—a place I’d never seen, but that Arnold had shown me pictures of—and where I’d bought my gown—Maison Aurielle, which was true, we’d put a downpayment on it, like literally, the thing was almost worth as much as a car, yesterday.

“And your colors?”

“White, black, and gold,” I told her.

“Timeless classics,” she said, with a grin. I looked at her hands, and didn’t clock a ring on her finger.

“What will yours be?”

She flushed. “I—haven’t thought that far ahead, really. Dating in the city is hard.”

“Tell me about it,” I said with a rueful laugh, then patted the air between us. “Sorry, no—I wasn’t on the open market for long.”

“And you all met at a business meeting?”

“My father runs in all sorts of circles. And when Marcus set his eyes on me, I just…knew,” I said, trying to exude the caliber of soulful joy a real bride ought to be feeling at being interviewed by one of the preeminent wedding pages in the country.

“And did he know? Or did he require some convincing?” she teased. “You know, he was supposed to be here today?—”

“I know,” I said, faking a wince. The truth was I hadn’t known that—but it was also just as well. “You know, we’ve been talking about this engagement for awhile now, ever since we met practically, and I toldhimwe should hold off until after the election, because I knew he’d be too busy to help me. But then he offered me a diamond the size of a quail egg and a black Amex card, and I figured, “Okay!”” I said, throwing up my hands, showing off said-ring, and laughing. “I think the thing is, that after he wins the election, he wants to get straight to work, helping the people of our amazing state—and he doesn’t want any distractions, so it’s better to get this out of the way.”

Tammy’s head tilted. “And your thoughts on that?”

I inhaled and stared past her for a moment to compose myself. “Do you know I’ve been reading this section of the paper since I was a kid?”

“Really?”

“Yes. I lost track of it for a bit when I was out of the country though—what happened to the woman who had this page before you?”

“Oh,” Tammy said, with a brief headshake, and turning off her recording app, like we were discussing state secrets. “She died. Super tragically. On the way back from her baby’s anatomy scan—she was hoping for a boy.”

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