Beginning, Next Section
Reposted on 2/6/02
"Mr. Darcy?" William felt his mouth fall open and hastened to close it as he stepped aside to allow his visitor access to his spacious apartment.
"Come in," he said almost as an afterthought. She wasn't at all what he expected. It never occurred to him that the woman he had been exchanging emails and telephone calls with over the past week would be so young or so attractive. She walked ahead of William into the sunlit kitchen/dining area of the brownstone apartment and stopped to admire the space.
"Wow! You have a lovely facility here, Mr. Darcy."
"It's Will, and thank you. I always just thought of it as a kitchen, though," he smiled as he gestured toward the stools.
"Sorry. Professional terms creep into my language frequently, so if I say anything else that doesn't make sense don't hesitate to force a translation. And please call me Olivia."
"May I offer you something to drink, Olivia? I was just about to open a bottle of Domaine Corsin," William said as he rose and went around the counter. He raised a bottle of white Burgundy for her inspection.
"That sounds lovely, thank you," Olivia said. She picked up her bag and pulled out a folder, busying herself in an only partially successful effort to divert her attention from the handsome man before her. When she received William's first email proposing to engage her services she thought of him as just another client. But after hearing his rich, deep voice on the telephone for the first time earlier in the day, and now that she'd seen the man in the flesh, she had to force herself to concentrate on the task at hand. After all, he'd said something about arranging a party for a special woman. William handed Olivia a glass of wine and then came around the counter to join her again. Olivia took a sip of the wine and smiled her approval.
"Mmm, this might be the perfect accompaniment for the menu we spoke about," she said as she willed her heart to stop racing. "How many diners are we talking about again?"
"Two."
"Just two?" Olivia's heart slowed immediately. "You do understand that I have a minimum--." William nodded. Whoever he was involved with, he was seriously involved--very seriously.
"Yes, I did read that in the sample contract you sent over, and it's no problem." Olivia swallowed a sip of wine and nodded.
"Well, here's the menu. I always write it up for my clients. Sometimes they put them on display for their guests or keep them as a souvenir of a special evening." William accepted the handwritten menu, embellished in watercolors and gold ink.
"This is lovely. Thank you." They discussed a timetable for the meal service before William signed a contract. He then went upstairs and returned with a check for Olivia's services and a key so that she'd be able to let herself into the apartment to start the meal before he got home.
"Would you mind if I explored your facility--uh, kitchen--a little?" William gestured for her to proceed. She hopped off the stool and walked around the granite-topped counter. She was impressed by the rack of copper pots that hung over it, as well as the restaurant quality range that dominated the space.
"Would you like a tour?" Olivia smiled and nodded. William spent the next several minutes opening cupboards and locating items that Olivia would need in order to prepare her menu. Everything was top quality, and the pantry was stocked with a wide array of interesting ingredients.
"This is a fantastic kitchen...small, but very efficient and beautifully appointed. Tell me something, Will," Olivia asked when they'd returned to their seats, "Why do you need me? From the look of things, you are well-equipped to prepare this menu for yourself...or is all of this a sham?" she smiled cheekily.
"It's no sham. I do actually use most of this stuff, as time and talent allow. I love to cook, but I really have a lot to learn. Besides I'd rather spend tomorrow night on this side of the counter, if you get my drift." Olivia nodded curtly, her smile fading slightly. She told herself that smiling was futile; Will Darcy was a man in love. He was the dreamiest man she'd ever laid eyes upon, but he wasn't destined to dream of her.
"You know, a few cooking classes would give you the skills and the confidence you need to fully take advantage of this beautiful kitchen, heavy dates aside." William smiled.
"That's been a part of my plans since I had the kitchen redone, but I've been so busy at work lately that I haven't had time."
"Well," Olivia said as she began to put her papers back into her bag, "If you get some time, I'm going to be teaching at basic cooking class at the New School starting in a couple of weeks. If you're interested, I'd love to see you there." She handed William a flyer on her course and thanked him for the wine. When he closed the door behind her, Olivia smacked her palm against her forehead.
"I'd love to see you there? Smooth, Livy! The man is probably planning to become engaged tomorrow and you're throwing yourself at him." She shook her head as she descended the steps that brought her to street level and walked toward the avenue. "Just forget that you even thought it, girl. Forget that you haven't had a decent date in months, forget that he's gorgeous, and forget that...omigod! I have to meet Lizzy across town in ten minutes!" Olivia ran the rest of the way to the corner and flagged down a cab.
"So let me get this straight. We have 270 boxes to unpack and you want to cut out early so you can have dinner with Erin?" William smiled apologetically.
"You're the one who told me to wine and dine her, Richard."
"That was before we decided to relocate," his business partner retorted. "And before I met her," he added under his breath.
"Well, it took me a while to get her attention," William said as he strolled toward his office.
"It took her a while to acknowledge your existence, Will. It's hardly the same thing." Richard said to himself with a sigh.
"I'm having a personal chef come in and cook for us." William said as he returned to gather a few more boxes to carry into his office.
"What?"
"I've hired a personal chef. She comes to your place and cooks for you," William explained.
"Why didn't you just get takeout? Better yet, why not cook for yourself? You just spent $25,000 renovating your kitchen so you could hone your cooking skills. Seems like you have the perfect opportunity to show them off."
"I know, I know, but I want tonight to be really special," William called as he walked away.
"A recipe for disaster," Richard said, shaking his head.
"She's really nice," William said behind him, startling Richard as he came back and hefted another load. He stopped to frown at Richard, who was sitting on an office chair and toying with a computer he was about to install. "Wait a minute. I thought you wanted my help. Why am I doing all the heavy lifting?"
"You're carrying your own stuff, that's why. I hoisted my own and so did everyone else. It's the general office stuff I wanted your help with," Richard explained.
"Oh." William looked around and satisfied that he had gotten the last of his boxes, he went off to his office again. "Anyway," he began anew on his return, "She's really nice. Pretty, too--not at all what I expected. Beautiful eyes. Green, I think." Richard looked up.
"They're brown."
"Green."
"Have you gone blind, Will?" William plopped into a chair alongside Richard's.
"And are you psychic? You've never even seen Olivia."
"Who the heck is Olivia?"
"Olivia is the chef I was telling you about. Who are you talking about?"
"Silly me, I thought you were talking about Erin."
"You are silly," William said, rising to go sort out the remaining stack of boxes. "And yes, Erin's eyes are brown." Richard rolled his eyes. "And what stroke of genius made you send the entire staff out to lunch at once?"
"It wasn't my stroke of genius. You're the one who said we should all take lunch together," Richard said defensively.
"That's after we get settled in. I thought we might try eating communally once or twice a week, once we get our new kitchen fitted out. We can take turns cooking," William said enthusiastically.
"Or maybe you can have your green-eyed chef friend come in and cook for us," Richard teased.
"Well, not on a regular basis. Her services aren't exactly cheap. But we might want to consider hiring her to do our opening party."
"Why don't you see how your dinner with Erin goes first?" Richard said as William carried a box to the far end of the office. "You may lose all interest in food after tonight," Richard murmured as he stared at the screen. "This is going to hurt." William returned and Richard rose to help him to adjust the layout of the desks that sat in the middle of the large office shared space.
There were only a few private offices in the suite, and even those had glass partitions and only Richard and William's had doors. The new offices of Darcy/Fitzwilliam were housed in a spacious loft space in the Silk Stocking district of New York City, relocated from cramped quarters in a more traditional space uptown. The company's young staff had enthusiastically embraced the move, and soon returned from lunch prepared for an afternoon of hard work. Richard worked with a heavy heart, however. He feared that his friend was about to suffer a huge disappointment. Within twenty-four hours, his worst fears were confirmed.
"...And his eyes! Lizzy, you would not believe how utterly gorgeous he was," Olivia said as she shrugged out of her jacket and sat down beside her roommate.
"I get the picture," Lizzy said, holding up her hands to stop the flood of praise. "And this paragon of manhood hired you for a party?" Olivia's smile faded.
"Yeah, a private party for him and his lady friend." She sighed dramatically. "But I don't really want him; I wouldn't know what to do with someone so perfect."
"Give me his address and I'd be happy to show you," Lizzy quipped. "Livy, do be careful not to drool into the sauce tomorrow night," she teased.
"Hey, I'm a professional. I'll pack a bib." A waiter arrived with their dinner, putting a temporary halt to their conversation.
"I'm glad we were able to find that rug," Lizzy said a short time later.
"Me, too. Of course, if you rejected this one I was planning to throttle you right in the middle of the showroom," Olivia teased.
"Can I help it if all your taste is in your mouth?"
"Very funny."
Shortly after seven the next morning, Olivia deftly pulled her little car into a parking space in front of a trendy gourmet food shop and hopped out to make her delivery. She opened the rear door of the car and pulled out a container. Closing the door with her foot, she entered the shop and headed straight for the baked goods section.
"Morning, Paul. A dozen of my best, still warm." The manager rubbed his hands in anticipation as Olivia opened the container and placed the large oatmeal cookies on a cake stand on the display counter. "I have a bonus for you," Olivia said as she handed him a bag containing three cookies.
"Mmm! What are they?" He opened the bag and took a whiff.
"I'm experimenting with ginger cookies. I thought it was time for a field test, so I made up a batch of samples. You can share them with your employees or try them out on the customers. Just give me your feedback tomorrow." Paul bit into a cookie and smiled.
"I can give you my feedback now. Awesome!" Olivia smiled. Paul gestured for her to follow him to his office where he paid her for the cookies. "These are really good, Livy. You know, you really should consider expanding your operations."
"You know I can't do that with my schedule. Maybe someday--if I can get a commercial kitchen and can afford to hire a staff--maybe then I'll be able to pull it off. Speaking of schedules, I've got to get uptown. See you tomorrow, Paul." She headed for the door as Paul followed.
"Any chance of your being able to increase our order? Your cookies all fly out of here and a lot of people are disappointed if they get here after they sell out."
"How many are we talking?" Paul shrugged.
"Why not say eighteen, and if that works out we can move it to an even two dozen eventually?"
"I can do that. Starting tomorrow?" Paul nodded. He and Olivia shook hands on the deal.
Several hours later, Olivia let herself into Will's apartment and placed two shopping bags and a box on the counter. She put her hands on her hips and looked around before she began unloading the bags. She placed the perishables in the refrigerator, except for the vegetables, which she dumped into the sink. She washed them carefully and left them to drain, then dried her hands and ventured out of the kitchen area. Olivia went over to the entertainment center and looked at the state of the art set up. After a few seconds she was sufficiently oriented to turn it on. She decided to see what her client's taste in music was so she hit the play button on the CD player. The room was instantly filled with the sound of Chopin and Olivia leapt back. The music seemed to be coming from everywhere. She quickly leaned forward again and turned down the volume.
"What the--?" Olivia started and looked up. William Darcy, clad only in a towel, was glaring at her over the balcony. Olivia quickly shut off the music.
"I'm sorry!" she managed. "I thought I was alone," she said, unsuccessfully attempting to ignore his physique.
"So did I!" Will replied with a smile. "You scared me half to death! Put it back on. I'll be down in a few minutes." Olivia smiled and did as she was bidden. She returned to the kitchen and smiled to herself as she chopped the fresh herbs for her vinaigrette. Will appeared a few minutes later, in jeans and a snug-fitting tee shirt.
"May I be your sous-chef?" Olivia nodded, and he reached for a knife and joined her at the counter.
Richard left the office and strolled over to the gourmet shop. His stomach was growling since he had skipped lunch to work on sorting out the computer systems. Figuring that he probably had several more hours of work ahead of him, he went into the shop for something to eat. Richard went to the sandwich counter and placed an order. While it was being made up, he walked further down the counter to the baked goods.
"No more oatmeal cookies?" Paul looked up and smiled.
"Are you kidding? Those things sell out before nine o'clock every day."
"Seriously? You ought to hold a few back for your afternoon customers." Paul laughed.
"Hah! I'd have a riot on my hands. I just increased the size of our order so there will be a few more around, starting tomorrow." Richard pouted as he went to get a cold drink to go with his sandwich.
"So what am I supposed to have with my coffee later? I've become completely addicted to those cookies in the course of two weeks."
"Anyone who's eaten one of those cookies becomes addicted. Hey, wait! I think I have something that might get you through the night." Richard went to the cashier while Paul went to the back room. He returned a moment later bearing a small brown paper bag. "Here, it's on the house. She's trying a new recipe. I think it's a winner."
"Thanks a lot," Richard said as he opened the bag and inhaled the spicy scent. He smiled all the way back to the office and, unable to resist temptation, consumed the ginger cookie before he ate his sandwich.
"I thought you weren't going to be home until six," Olivia said as she deftly trimmed the fat from a rack of lamb.
"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have. But I threw something in my back out after doing a lot of heavy lifting this afternoon and after listening to me groan for an hour, my partner took pity on me and sent me home," William replied as he trimmed the green beans.
"Partner? What do you do?"
"Oh, I'm one of two principals in a small architectural firm. We just relocated our offices and I spent the day moving boxes around."
"Architect, eh? That explains your apartment. Here, why don't you peel and chop some garlic while I work on the rest of the marinade."
"What about my apartment?" William asked, intrigued by Olivia's comment.
"It's fabulous! To tell you the truth, I was very tempted to give myself the nickel tour when I got here. Good thing I didn't," Olivia said with an impish smile. William smiled in return, revealing a set of dimples that made Olivia's jaw drop. "Forgot the bib, darn it."
"Excuse me?" Olivia smiled to herself but didn't reply. Olivia went to her tote bag and pulled out a timer. She calculated the precise moment that dinner service would start and started the timer on a countdown. She continued her prep work with William's occasional participation, chatting easily as she worked. Once she put the rack of lamb into the marinade and put it into the refrigerator, she washed her hands and went to look at the dining table.
"Shall I set the table now?"
"Oh, I'll do that," William said, as he reached into the cabinet and pulled out a few dishes. "Which one should I use?" he asked as he showed Olivia two different plates.
"May I?" William stood back and Olivia stood on her toes and peered into the cabinet. "Have you got a stepstool?" William shook his head and willingly pulled down whatever Olivia thought looked interesting. She selected an eclectic assortment of plates and serving pieces and William went and pulled out some linen. Olivia plucked things off the shelves that lined the dining area to adorn the table and William regaled her with stories of his travels.
"These candlesticks are from Brazil. I was there to oversee the building of a house for a client. And that bowl is from Nepal. I went there on vacation a few years ago." Olivia talked about her travels through France and Italy, where she spent a year after graduating from the culinary institute.
"I never wanted to work in a restaurant. I just love to cook, and I guess if I could figure out a way to do that and not be stuck behind the scenes all the time, chained to the stove, life would be perfect. This is as close as I could get." Olivia looked up as William opened the doors to the apartment's rear garden. She followed him outside and inhaled the intoxicating scent of roses.
"Why don't you have your cocktails and starters out here? It's a very romantic setting."
"You have an excellent eye, Olivia."
"Thank you, Will." The timer went off and Olivia headed back to the kitchen. "Let's get this show on the road." Olivia prepared the appetizer that was to precede the main course while William tossed the salad. "You know, I feel like I ought to return part of my fee to you. I'm not used to getting this much help from my clients."
"Not at all. Think of it as a private cooking lesson. I bet you could be very successful doing that for a living." When the appetizers and potatoes were in the oven and all was in readiness, William left Olivia to watch things while he went up to change.
When William came downstairs he saw that Olivia had also changed. Her simple tee shirt was now covered in a crisp, professional-looking chef's jacket. She was opening a bottle of wine to let it breathe. William looked at his watch nervously.
"She should be here any moment," he said with a shy smile. Olivia smiled back and went outside to light a few candles and place them around on small tables. "Where did those come from?" William asked when she came back inside. He was staring at the cymbidium orchids that were laid across Erin's plate.
"Oh, I brought those. You'd be amazed what I carry in my arsenal," she winked before she returned to the kitchen. She pulled the potatoes from the oven and set them aside. "I think I'll wait until your company arrives before I put the meat in." William nodded absently as he sat down to wait for Erin to arrive. Before long he was on his feet again and pacing the floor. Olivia took pity on him and poured him a glass of wine. William accepted it gratefully.
"Thank you. I don't know what's keeping her. She's nearly twenty minutes late."
"Is she usually on time?" William shrugged.
"Thus far, I've usually picked her up." Olivia nodded and returned to the kitchen area, busying herself to keep out of William's way. Finally, Erin arrived. She was an attractive brunette, fashionably attired and coiffed. Olivia's immediate impression of her was negative, but for William's sake she gave her the benefit of the doubt. Erin swept into the apartment without a word of apology and promptly began to complain.
"Why did you want to eat here? I had a heck of a time finding a cab at this hour. It would have been easier if you had met me across town. Where's your bathroom, I need to fix my makeup." Olivia, who was on the verge of bringing a glass of wine to the new arrival, cringed and returned to the kitchen. "Who's she?" Erin asked when he spotted the retreating chef.
"This is Olivia Crenshaw. She's preparing our dinner."
"I didn't know you had help," Erin said with an appraising look at William. He seemed confused by the remark as he directed her to the bathroom, but Olivia inwardly fumed as she turned her attention to getting the rack of lamb into the oven. William left Erin and came down the stairs. Olivia slid the glass of wine toward him.
"This is for your lady friend."
"Thank you," William said tightly. The evening had gotten off to a rough start. Olivia felt for him as he took the glass and waited a brief eternity for Erin to return.
"You have a really nice apartment...a little too masculine for my taste, though." William rolled his eyes as he led Erin out into the garden. Olivia pulled the tray of hot hors d'oeuvres from the oven and arranged them on the plate. She grabbed a few napkins and headed for the garden, but as she approached she heard Erin's voice and saw the couple returning inside.
"It's too hot out here, and the bugs will eat me alive. Let's go inside and get into the air conditioning."
"I thought it was a rather nice evening," William said. "It couldn't be more than 75 degrees out here."
"Well, you stay out here, then. I'm going inside." With that, Erin came in, followed by a rather exasperated William.
"Would you like an hors d'oeuvre?" Olivia asked. Erin shook her head dismissively and walked past her into the living room. William's eyes met Olivia's once more and she sighed empathetically. He halfheartedly helped himself to one of the appetizers he had helped to prepare and followed his date to the living room.
The remainder of the evening was equally disastrous. Erin declared a dislike of lamb and could in no way be persuaded to try it and then spent several minutes picking all of the bacon out of the salad in spite of Olivia's offer to make her another one. To make matters worse, she seemed determined to put down all Olivia's efforts to accommodate her.
"You should have made a salad without all that fat in the first place. A lot of people don't like bacon or croutons." Olivia bit her lip as she placed the plate on the table and returned to the kitchen.
"I made the salad," William said evenly. He was seething with anger. This woman, whom he had coveted for weeks and had just begun dating, was turning out to be a total write off. The evening could not end fast enough for him, and after Erin refused to even consider dessert, he rose and took the dinner plates to the counter. When Erin made some comment about letting "the help" take care of the dishes, he'd had enough.
"Would you excuse me a moment?" William left the room and went upstairs. Olivia tried to be invisible as she cleared the plates of mostly uneaten food and packed it away.
"So how long have you been working for Will?" Erin asked conversationally. Olivia looked up, a bit surprised at being addressed.
"I'm only working here for the day," Olivia said evenly.
"What, you mean like a caterer?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Where'd you learn to cook?"
"The French Culinary Institute."
"I've never heard of it." Olivia was spared the necessity of a reply when William returned, keys in hand.
"Shall we go?" Both Olivia and Erin looked up.
"Are we going out?"
"I'm taking you home," William said decisively. "You've apparently had a miserable evening and I wouldn't dream of prolonging your suffering."
"I haven't had a--."
"Erin, you have done nothing but complain since you arrived. You've insulted me, my chef, my taste, and my home. I think we should end this evening now." He opened the door and the stunned woman went through it. William sighed and shook his head. He glanced at Olivia, who had turned her back and tried to be unobtrusive as he spoke, but she could feel William's eyes on her. She reluctantly turned to face him.
"I'll just finish cleaning up and let myself out."
"That's not necessary; I'll take care of it when I return."
"It's part of the deal, remember?" Olivia said with a small smile.
"I'll be back shortly, then." Olivia nodded and William left the apartment. As soon as she heard the door close she heaved a huge sigh and left loose a string of colorful expletives as she stacked dishes into the washer. When she was done there, she went into the dining room and cleared the table, putting each of William's treasures back in its original place. When she had finished, she peeled off her jacket and folded it into her tote bag along with her knives, timer, and other tools. She took one last look around and went to put out the candles and close the garden doors. She found a notepad in a drawer in the kitchen and left William a note saying that she'd call to arrange getting his keys back to him. Then she slipped out of the apartment and got into her car, pulling out just as William drove up. He unknowingly parked in the spot she'd just vacated and his disappointment was palpable when he realized that he had missed her.
"I should have had dinner with her instead," William said as he crumpled the note. He ran his fingers through his hair as he recalled the end of the evening. Erin had not said a word all the way back to her place, but had stared stonily out the window as he drove. When he reached her building, she got out of the car as soon as he brought it to a stop, not bothering to say a word.
"The whole evening was an unmitigated disaster," William murmured as he rose and went to the refrigerator. He found the bottle of wine he'd served with dinner (and was mildly intrigued by the stack of neat containers stowed beside it) and poured the last of it into a glass. He took it and went upstairs to the bedroom, where he rested the glass on the nightstand and picked up the phone. He punched in a number and listened to it ring as he shrugged out of his jacket.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Fitz."
"Will? Who died?" William flopped on the bed and picked up his glass.
"Good question. I wanted you to be the first to say I told you so." There were a few seconds of dead silence.
"That bad?"
"Worse."
"I'm sorry."
"No you're not. You despised Erin."
"That doesn't mean I wanted to see you hurt. What happened?" William related the events of the evening.
"At least I have some amazing leftovers for lunch tomorrow," he said with a wry smile.
"Always the optimist," Richard grinned. "Well, chalk it up to experience and move on."
"Isn't that my line?"
"That must be where I heard it," Richard quipped.
"How is your love life these days?"
"Better than yours, apparently. I don't have one." William laughed.
"I thought your grandmother was going to fix you up with the daughter of a friend."
"She did. Nice enough girl, but she's a business school graduate and I don't think I met her minimum bottom line."
"Did you tell her what you'd be worth when your grandmother kicks the bucket?"
"That's hard to work into a polite dinner conversation. Besides, I'd take a dim view of any woman who'd base our entire relationship on the probability of my grandmother's demise."
"I hadn't thought about it that way." Richard chuckled at William's serious response.
"How's your back?"
"It's still a bit sore, but it's my ego I'm worried about."
"Hey, show me one man who hasn't made a fool of himself over a woman at least once...well, a heterosexual one, anyway." William laughed. "Look, why don't you have a good cry, or a stiff belt, or whatever, and then go to bed. Come in early tomorrow morning and I'll bring you a treat."
"What kind of treat?"
"A cookie. I discovered a great little shop around the corner from the office while I was overseeing the renovations. It has the most wonderful oatmeal cookies on the planet. I'll bring you one."
"Thanks," William sighed, with a decided lack of enthusiasm.
"Hey, Will. She was just a woman who played hard to get well enough to make you think that there was more to her than there actually was."
"Either I've had too much wine or that was extremely deep," William said.
"I hope it was the wine. I revel in my shallowness." William smiled and rolled his eyes.
"Goodnight, Richard." He put the phone aside and drained his glass. Then he sat up and picked up the phone again and reached for his personal planner. He flipped through the pages while he waited for an answer. He placed an order and gave the customer service representative an address and credit card number. Then William rose, undressed and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he came out of the bathroom, it was only ten o'clock, but he climbed into bed anyway and spent the next hour staring at the ceiling before he finally dozed off.
"It was so humiliating to watch. I really felt for the poor guy," Olivia said as she came out of the bathroom in a pair of short pink pajamas and her hair in a towel.
"So what was her problem?" Lizzy asked.
"I have no idea. Will is such a great guy and he obviously bent over backwards to make the night special for her. She didn't even acknowledge any of it. From the minute she walked in the door she started whining and complaining. It was awful!" Olivia unwrapped the towel and reached for a comb as she sat on the edge of the huge ottoman in the center of the living room.
"I wonder if she was always like that?" Lizzy mused. "I can't imagine that she was, though, or else he wouldn't have put himself out for her the way he did." Olivia pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail and took the towel and comb back to the bathroom. She washed her hands and went into the kitchen. "Are you baking tonight?"
"Well, I thought I would actually bake in the morning, but I got home earlier than planned. I'll make up the dough and throw a batch or two into the oven tonight and do the rest in the morning.
"How are the ginger cookie trials going?"
"Well, Paul liked them, but I haven't heard the rest of the feedback yet."
"Paul has never met a cookie he didn't like," Lizzy quipped. Olivia frowned at her.
"What are you working on?" Lizzy set aside the file in her lap.
"I'm finishing up that piece about men who are getting cosmetic surgery."
"Ick. Would you date a guy with fake pecs?" Olivia asked from the kitchen, where she was measuring out flour into four huge bowls.
"That depends on what else on him was fake."
"Lizzy!"
"Well, when I first started my research, I was grossed out at the thought. But after thinking about it a while, what's the difference between a woman getting a nose job and a guy getting one?"
"But faking a physique? That's different."
"Two words: boob job."
"That grosses me out, too. It's so much easier to buy my cookies and produce the genuine article," Olivia laughed.
"So, are this Will's pecs real?"
"I'd say he was completely authentic."
"So what's his flaw?"
"Lousy taste in women?"
"You can say that again!" Lizzy said emphatically.
"Who was at the door?" Olivia called from the kitchen early the next morning. Lizzy came into the kitchen bearing a vase full of daisies.
"I take back what I said about your client's lousy taste in women," Lizzy said as she handed Olivia the vase and left the room.
"They're for me?" She looked at the card. It was from Will.
Sorry about last night. I'll call later.
"Sweet!" Olivia carried the vase into the living room and placed it on the coffee table.
"Don't put it there unless you're giving it to Squeaks for breakfast," Lizzy warned. Olivia quickly moved the vase to a more elusive location.
"Is this cat proof enough?" Lizzy nodded. "I'm off, then." Olivia went into the kitchen and came out with large plastic crate filled with smaller containers. She placed the crate on a luggage cart and strapped it securely.
"Goodness, Livy! How many cookies are you baking now?" Lizzy asked as she went ahead of her to hold open the apartment door.
"Six dozen for my four regular customers. I'll do more if the ginger cookies take off."
"You know they will."
"I hope so. But if I want to do much more, I'm going to have to get a commercial kitchen to bake in."
"Have any luck finding a place?" Lizzy asked as she walked Olivia to the elevator.
"I did, actually. It's an old restaurant in Chinatown. But it needs a lot of work, not to mention money I don't have."
"Have you spoken with your dad?" Olivia shook her head.
"Last time I talked to him, he still thought I should use that money to get a proper education." The elevator doors opened and Olivia piled in with her cargo.
"You'll get it. Somehow."
"Yeah, yeah," Olivia sighed as the doors closed. Lizzy went back into the apartment and went straight to the kitchen to get the cookie Olivia always left for her. She topped off her coffee mug and added a little milk before she went into the living room and sat down.
Well, that was smart, Lizzy. Throw the girl into a depression, why don't you? A large cat appeared and draped itself across Lizzy's lap. She absently stroked his head, her eyes on the flowers across the room. Well, Mister Wonderful, you'd better call Livy today and if you have any brains at all, ask her out. Sounds like you could both use a good night out.
"Livy, the ginger cookies were a hit. I split one among the staff and the verdict was unanimous," Paul said as he held the container for Olivia. She smiled as she put the glass top over the cake plate.
"That's two. What happened to the third cookie?" she asked as she gave Paul's abdomen a significant look.
"I gave it to a customer. He came in late in the afternoon looking for one of your oatmeal cookies. When I told him they'd long since sold out I thought he was going to cry, so I took pity on him." Olivia laughed as she looked at the crowded cake stand.
"Well, let me know what he thinks tomorrow. You know, I don't think all these cookies really fit well."
"Don't worry," Paul said. "They won't be there very long." Olivia followed Paul into the back office just as Richard entered the shop. He went straight to the counter and asked for two cookies. When Paul and Olivia emerged from the office, they heard two employees talking.
"Well, I don't think you should have given him two. Paul always says one to a customer."
"He never told me that."
"What's the problem?" Paul asked as Olivia headed for the front of the store. She stopped to get a cup of coffee and came face to face with Richard, who had filled two large cups and was working on a third. He looked up at her and smiled at her amused expression.
"I like coffee," he said. Olivia nodded and was surprised when he took the cup from her hand and filled it for her.
"Thanks," she said as he resumed filling his own cup. She poured in a dollop of milk and smiled at Richard before she turned and walked out of the store. Richard started to say something as he carried his three coffees to the front counter, where his cookies awaited him. The cashier noticed his distress.
"It's okay. She gets her coffee for free. That'll be $6.50." Richard frowned and pulled out his wallet to pay the cashier.
"How come she gets free coffee and I have to pay nearly five bucks for three cups?" he asked good-naturedly. The cashier eyed him saucily.
"I don't know. I'd give you free coffee, if this was my store. I hope that's decaf." Richard flashed a smile and picked up his bag as Paul approached.
"What's this about your trying to corner the market on oatmeal cookies?"
"Huh? Oh, well, I came in for my usual cookie, and I promised a depressed friend that I'd bring him one to cheer him up--did I break some sort of rule?"
"Well, normally, I try to sell one to a customer, but since we got in extra this morning it's not a problem. By the way, how'd you like that one I gave you yesterday?"
"It was excellent! That bakery puts out an amazing product."
"It's not a bakery. It's a one-woman operation."
"You're kidding!"
"Nope. She's the best cookie maker in New York, in my humble opinion."
"Well, you aren't alone there," Richard replied.
"I'll give her your compliments." Richard nodded, wished Paul a good day, and headed around the corner to his office. He unlocked the doors and entered the suite. It was just after seven and he thought he could make some headway into the unpacking before the rest of the staff came in. Will appeared minutes later, with the same thought in mind.
"Morning, partner," he said as he passed by Richard's office.
"I bought you a coffee." Richard called out. William returned a moment later, having removed his jacket. He rolled up his sleeves as he took a seat.
"Why didn't you just make some?"
"No power in the kitchen. The electrician's coming in today to work on a few things left on the punch list."
"You could put the coffee maker somewhere else," William reasoned, as he opened the container and took a whiff. "Although, if this stuff is available locally, who needs to brew his own?" Richard smiled as William took a sip.
"If you think that's good, try this." He pushed a bag across the desk toward William.
"The cookie?" Richard nodded and waited for William's reaction. It didn't disappoint.
"Oh man, this is good!" William said. "Where did you say this came from?"
"From the shop around the corner," Richard said. "Apparently, the guy who runs it has found a very talented woman to bake them for him." William was reminded of Olivia at that moment and rose to his feet.
"Speaking of talented women, I have a phone call to make." He was about to leave the office when Richard stopped him.
"At this hour?" William looked at his watch. He smiled sheepishly and reclaimed his seat.
"You're right. She probably isn't even up yet."
Lizzy arrived at the coffee shop and smiled when she saw that Jane had already arrived and claimed a booth.
"Hi, Lizzy!" Jane said as Lizzy slid into a seat. Lizzy returned the greeting with a smile. "I'm so glad you thought of this. I haven't been out of the office in ages."
"What, are you sleeping there now?" Lizzy quipped as she perused the menu. She immediately regretted her words. She knew that her friend was going through a difficult divorce and in all likelihood was spending a great deal of time at the office to keep herself from thinking about her rapidly eroding home life. Lizzy laid the menu on the table and took Jane's hand. "How are you holding up, Jane?"
"I'm fine. It's gotten easier since..." Jane smiled awkwardly. "I've begun dating again." Lizzy's mouth fell open.
"Really?"
"Nothing serious yet, but yes. I have met someone." Lizzy smiled.
"Jane, I'm very happy for you." Then Lizzy frowned. "Geez, you're going through a divorce and you've got a better love life than I have," she pouted. Jane smiled reassuringly.
"Oh, come on, Lizzy. You're a gorgeous, intelligent, witty, talented woman!" Lizzy sighed.
"Maybe I should have that tattooed across my forehead."
"Put your phone number up there, too. It'll save time," Jane giggled. The waiter came and the two friends ordered breakfast.
"Let's get to work before I become totally depressed," Lizzy said. "Here is the hard copy of the article. I sent the file to you this morning with the changes you asked for."
"Great," Jane said as she put on her glasses and went into editor mode. She quickly scanned the article. "So what's next?" she asked without looking up from the page.
"I don't know," Lizzy pouted. "I'm growing tired of doing fluff pieces for women's magazines." Jane pulled off her glasses and regarded Lizzy for a moment.
"Lizzy," she began. She received a warning look in return. "Why not? You're ready, and you know it."
"Yes, but I have to eat, too, you know. I'm doing very well right now as a freelancer, but I haven't got enough put by to take off the six months or a year it would take to write a book. And I couldn't ask Livy to support me. She's doing really well right now, too, and although she's offered to let me take some time off to write, she's got dreams of her own. And right now, she's better positioned to realize them than I am."
"So maybe you should take turns. Let her go first and then you get to write your novel. But you need to make a schedule, Lizzy. You can't just keep putting this off forever."
"Yeah, yeah," Lizzy sighed as the waiter appeared with their food.
"Marc is still willing to help," Jane said gently. Lizzy knew it pained her to speak of her soon to be ex-husband, a publishing executive who'd left Jane shortly after she'd become pregnant with their son.
"I know, but I haven't even got a treatment written. I have nothing to show him." The two turned their attention to their food. They ate in silence for a few minutes, until Lizzy asked after her godson, Jeremy. Jane smiled, and spoke of her son with maternal pride. Lizzy smiled as she watched Jane's face; in spite of all she had been through of late, the one anchor in her life was her son, and she always radiated happiness when she spoke of him.
"Oh! Lizzy, I have just had a brilliant idea!" Jane said, as a smile of a different sort crept over her face. There's a new magazine due to hit the stands in the fall. It's called Urbanand it's a lifestyles magazine for young, upwardly mobile twenty to thirty-somethings who want to be on the cutting edge of the latest trends in art, décor, and restaurants...you know the demographic. Anyway, when the magazine was first announced a while ago I sent them my resume, but with all the upheaval in my life over the past eighteen months I decided that changing jobs was one thing I didn't need to deal with. But I know for a fact that they are still looking for people. It'll be published out of Atlanta, but they need a contributing lifestyles editor based in New York. They had someone but she bailed for a better offer. They asked me, but my contract doesn't permit me to freelance. I think you'd be great for the job." Lizzy frowned.
"A contributing editor? Me? Jane, I'm a writer!"
"Oh, and that means you're incapable of writing a column once a month and editing a few submissions every now and then?" Jane challenged. Lizzy shook her head.
"I don't know..."
"Lizzy, it would be part-time. It won't pay all your bills, but it would get you out of the fashion magazine rut you're in, and you could do a little freelancing if you need to. But the best part is that you'd have a steady income and you may find the time to do a little writing as well. At least consider it, Lizzy." Lizzy bit her lip.
"All right, I'll think about it."
"Good. Send me your resume."
"I said I'll think about it, Jane!" Lizzy repeated. Jane smiled benignly. "All right, I'll send you my resume."
"I'm so glad we got together today," Jane grinned.
"I don't like broccoli." Olivia sighed and continued to chop the dreaded vegetable into chunks.
"I hate it!" the second of her client's two children declared.
"Who asked you?" Olivia spat back. She playfully stuck her tongue out at the ten-year old boy.
"So what are you going to do with it?" his younger sister asked. Olivia smiled enigmatically.
"I'm making something yummy, but only to grown-ups. Of course, since you two won't eat broccoli, the chances of your ever becoming grown-ups is fairly slim," she replied.
"What do you mean?" the boy asked suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing... Are you done grating the cheese?" Olivia asked. This morning would be devoted to preparing a week's worth of reheatable meals for the children of the two neurosurgeons who'd employed her for the past two years. Olivia was very familiar with the children's complaints about vegetables, but she'd always ignored their pleas and they invariably ate what she prepared, much to the delight of their parents and nanny.
"Mmm, macaroni and cheese," the little girl squealed as she scattered the cheese into the large steaming bowl of pasta. Olivia dumped the parboiled broccoli into a colander to drain. She waited for the boy to grow bored with cooking and as soon as he'd left the room she dumped a generous amount of broccoli into the macaroni and cheese concoction.
"Oops!" she said dramatically.
"Oops!" the little girl repeated with a giggle.
"It looks like you two might become grown-ups after all," Olivia smiled as she stirred in the broccoli. She poured the macaroni and cheese into small ramekins and with the aid of her young assistant she placed them in the oven to bake. She went on to her next task, tearing up slices of bread for bread pudding. Her assistant measured out raisins and cranberries, and the little boy came back to beat up the eggs. Olivia checked her watch, wondering when the nanny would return from the market. She needed a few things she'd put on the nanny's list. The phone rang and the little boy reached into Olivia's tote bag to retrieve her phone.
"Can I answer it?" Before Olivia could reply, he expertly opened the phone. "Good afternoon, Olivia's phone," he said cheekily. Olivia put her hand on her hips.
"Who is it?" she asked.
"May I ask who's calling?" he said into the phone. He made a face at the reply and handed it to her. "I think it's your boyfriend. He sounds all romantic and mushy." Olivia turned red, in spite of the fact that she didn't have a boyfriend, and put the phone to her ear, cognizant of the fact that her caller had in all likelihood heard every word the precocious child had uttered.
"Olivia Crenshaw," she said with forced calm.
"Hello, Olivia. This is Will Darcy." Olivia blushed again and was very glad that he couldn't see her at that moment.
"Hello, Will," she managed.
"Who's your young friend?"
"He's the son of a client, and he's extremely fresh," she said as she shot the boy a look. "How are you, Will?" she asked seriously, recalling the expression on his face the last time she saw him.
"I've felt better. I must admit, you were witness to the worst date of my life," he said with an uneasy chuckle.
"I hope so," Olivia replied. "I mean...I certainly hope you've had none worse."
"What could be worse?" Will countered morosely. Olivia could practically feel his pain. "I take it you're working," he said, remembering himself. "I won't keep you, then. I thought...well, I thought I should apologize for last night. Regardless of what transpired between Erin and myself, there was no reason to put you through such an ordeal."
"Thanks, Will, but I'm all right. Quite frankly, I was far more worried about you." Will was silent for a moment.
"I'm okay." Both he and Olivia knew that he was lying. "Anyway, I need to get my keys back."
"Can I just drop them by later?"
"Only if it's convenient. There's no need to make a special trip."
"I don't mind. Oh, but I don't have them on me," Olivia realized. "How about tomorrow?"
"That's fine with me, but I won't be home until late in the evening. I'm supposed to attend some function or other," Will said as he flipped through the pages of his planner.
"How about if I drop them by your office?"
"I'm downtown on 18th Street. Would that be out of your way?"
"Not at all! I have to be in that area in the morning," Olivia said. "Why don't you give me your address?" Olivia reached for a pad and paper and jotted down the information. "Cool. I'll be just a few doors away. What time do you get in?"
"Around eight, usually."
"Excellent. I'll see you tomorrow, Will."
"Goodbye, Olivia." He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. Richard walked past his door and caught a glimpse of Will's glum expression. He shook his head and moved on.
Olivia looked up as the nanny returned with the groceries. She busied herself with the bread pudding as she thought about how depressed Will sounded. By the time she was done with her cooking and was wrapping up the ramekins of macaroni and cheese, the bread pudding and the dozens of chicken legs she'd baked earlier, she had an idea for cheering him up.
The next morning at the shop, Olivia spied Richard reaching for a quart of milk as she strolled over to the coffee machine. She bit her lip and reached for a cup as she saw him approach.
"My turn to pour," she said as she handed a cup of coffee to Richard. "How many?" He smilingly lifted one finger. "Only one?"
"I'm trying to cut down," he quipped. He bit back an urge to tell her that he wanted to make sure he could sleep that night so he could dream about her and headed for the counter. Olivia watched him go, admiring his deep blue eyes and winning smile. She reached for her container and waved goodbye to the manager. She found herself slowing her walk as she passed him by on her way to the door and could feel his eyes on her as she reached for it.
"Have a good weekend," she heard him say behind her. Olivia turned and flashed a winning smile of her own. She didn't stop smiling as she made her other deliveries in the area. It was a bit before eight when she was done so she sat in her car and waited. Thoughts of the handsome stranger's smile danced before her eyes. She regretted that she'd have to wait until Monday to see him again and wondered where he worked that he came into the shop so early.
"Hello, Richard," Will said as he passed his friend's office. He saw that Richard was deeply involved in a telephone conversation, so he merely nodded in acknowledgment and Will went into his office and dropped his bag. He emerged immediately and went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Richard had brewed up a pot when he got in, and Will poured out a cup as he looked around the finished space. It was a nice little kitchen, well appointed, but totally lacking in equipment. I ought to plan a shopping expedition this weekend and get a few things, Will decided. It's not as though I have any other plans. Will returned to his office and sat down at his desk. He flipped on the radio and put up his feet as he savored his coffee. A moment later, Richard appeared in the doorway.
"I'm on my way uptown," he said. Will frowned. "They need me on site today. I thought I told you about it yesterday." Will nodded as he vaguely recalled their chat at the end of the day. "Are you okay, Will?"
"I'm fine," he insisted. He was quickly growing weary of being asked that. Richard nodded patronizingly and went toward the elevator.
"Hello," Richard said from somewhere down the hall. William leapt out of his chair to see who had arrived, nearly colliding with Amy as he stepped out of his office.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly.
"No harm, no foul," the young woman said. She went to her desk, which was situated in the open area between the offices of the two men for whom she served as secretary. She looked up at Will, who was simply standing in his doorway. He came out of his reverie and retreated to his office and closed the door. A few minutes later, Amy knocked.
"Will, there's someone here to see you." Will rose as Olivia entered the room.
"Hi, Will," Olivia said as she extended her hand. "Before I forget, here." Will smiled and asked her to be seated. She handed him his keys and sat down. "Your offices are lovely."
"Thank you. It's kind of a professional necessity, you know--we have to convince our clients that we know a thing or two about architectural design," he said lightly. Olivia smiled as she saw his point. "Actually, I can't really take credit for the offices; it's my partner's work. I tend to specialize in new construction."
"Oh. Well, then, please pass on my compliments."
"Actually, there is one part of the suite that I had a hand in. I'd love to show it to you," he rose and Olivia eagerly accompanied him to the kitchen. "What do you think?" he asked as they entered the room.
"Sweet!" Olivia exclaimed as she immediately began to look around. "You have a real eye for kitchen design, Will."
"I'm considering getting my certification as a kitchen designer," he said, realizing that he was genuinely smiling for the first time in two days. "But it would never be a large part of my practice. I like designing the entire building." Olivia opened a cabinet, and then another. She opened a drawer. All were empty.
"You know, kitchens work better with stuff," she said archly. Will's smile expanded.
"Well, we only moved in a few days ago. Our priority this week has been the working offices. Besides, there was a bit left to do in here yesterday," he explained as Olivia opened the refrigerator. She saw the quart of milk and was instantly reminded of Richard, who had been holding an identical container when she encountered him earlier. "I was just thinking that a shopping trip was in order for the weekend. I need to stock the kitchen for staff use and also be able to cater small events for about fifty people on site." Olivia recommended a restaurant supply house in the area.
"But I doubt that you need help finding good sources," she said as she glanced at her watch. "Oh, my! I need to get uptown. I have an appointment with one of my regular clients to plan a party." William escorted her back to his office so she could get her bag. Olivia reached into it and pulled out a tin and handed it to Will.
"What's this?"
"Cookies. I thought you deserved a little pick-me-up, not to mention the fact that I owe you something for completely forgetting to thank you for those beautiful daisies." Will smiled and thanked her. He walked Olivia to the elevator and said goodbye. She stepped into an elevator and just as the door closed another opened and Richard stepped out.
"What happened?" Will asked.
"I was on my way to the subway when I got a call. There's some sort of job action among one of the trades and the meeting's been postponed," Richard said exasperatedly. "What have you got there?" Will looked down.
"Cookies. Want to try one?" Richard nodded as he went into the kitchen and poured out a cup of coffee. He opened the refrigerator and reached for the milk.
"Where'd they come from?" he asked as he reached for a small, nut-studded chocolate chip cookie.
"Olivia came by to drop off my keys." Richard was about to ask for an explanation, but he was distracted by the incredible flavor permeating his senses.
"This is the third amazing cookie I've eaten this week!" he said. Will looked at him in surprise. "You know, I think I'm going to really like working down here."
"I think so, too," Will concurred. "I'm going to like it very much, I think."
"What time do you get here in the morning?" Will asked Richard one day a week later. "I keep trying to get in early to get caught up on things but no matter what time I show up you're already here." Richard took hold of the cookie he'd been holding in his mouth and rested it on a napkin.
"Around seven. Got a problem with that?"
"Seven? Man, we have got to do something about your lack of love life." Richard laughed.
"Look who's talking! You aren't exactly setting any hearts aflutter, you know."
"I beg to differ," Amy muttered, although both men clearly heard her. Realizing that, she quickly pretended that she was talking to herself as she put away her bag in her desk drawer. Richard smiled at Will, who rolled his eyes and pushed the door closed before he continued.
"You're right Richard. We are in a rather pathetic state. We spend all our waking hours in here instead of out there," Will said as he gestured toward the window. "We should be out there meeting people." Richard might have contradicted his friend, but remained silent as he nibbled on his cookie. "I admit, after my last date with Erin I was left feeling a little too raw to put myself back on the market, but what's your excuse?" Richard looked up quizzically.
"What? I go to the market every day." Will eyed Richard oddly.
"Maybe we should get out and do something. Go somewhere where we can meet people," Will continued.
"Women, you mean."
"Precisely."
"What did you have in mind?" Will shrugged.
"I was hoping you'd have a few ideas."
"Sorry, not a one. But Grandma Bess always told me that you can find the perfect woman anywhere if you just keep your eyes open."
"I thought you hated her advice about women?" Richard smiled enigmatically.
"I'm beginning to see the wisdom in it."
"You've met someone," Will accused, "I can tell by that look in your eye."
"No, not exactly..." But I have seen someone...every morning for the last four days. Richard rose to his feet and opened the door. He headed for the kitchen with Will at his heels. "Will, my boy, there are thousands of beautiful, incredible women out there. Just open your eyes and look. They're everywhere!" Richard said as he poured coffee into the large cardboard cup he'd carried into the kitchen.
"Why don't you use a mug?" Will asked as he opened the cabinet and pulled one out.
Richard thanked him and transferred the hot liquid to the mug. "And why do you still buy coffee every morning and then come in and make more?"
"It's great coffee," Richard said cryptically. "And it's become part of my morning ritual." Will shook his head and reached for the pot. "Anyway, as I was saying, there are some incredible women around and--."
"Did someone ask for an incredible woman?" Caroline Bingley, the sister of the office's business manager stepped into the kitchen and approached Will with a predatory smile on her lips. She handed him her empty mug; he tried not to grimace as he filled it.
"What brings you here, Caroline?"
"Charles wanted me to see the new offices. I must say I love what you've done with the place, Will. You have an excellent eye for--."
"It was Richard's design and execution," Will interjected.
"Oh," she replied, with barely a glance of acknowledgment to Richard. He frowned at her back and left the kitchen, leaving Will to fend for himself.
"I heard that things didn't work out between you and Erin. I might have warned you..." she pouted. "She's known as something of a man eater."
I guess it takes one to know one, Caroline. Will stepped out of the kitchen but he loitered in the reception area. He didn't want Caroline to follow him back to his office.
"Really, Will, you should put that dreadful experience behind you and start fresh. I'm having a few friends over tomorrow night--."
"I'm sorry, but I can't make it," Will said with a smile. "I've already made plans." Caroline took this revelation rather stoically, forcing herself to smile.
"Well, why don't you bring your friend along to my party?"
"I'll have to take it up with Richard," Will responded, and watched Caroline's lip curl into a distasteful sneer. That's it. From now on, before I ask out any woman I'm going to expose her to Richard. If they don't get along, she's off my list. I don't know how he'll feel about being my mine canary, but it sure beats facing another night like the one I had last week.
"Where have you been?" Lizzy asked as Olivia walked into the living room and flopped onto the couch. Squeaks leapt onto her lap and settled in before she had a chance to reply.
"Didn't I tell you that my doctors were having a dinner party tonight?" Olivia asked as she stroked the cat's soft fur. "I've been at their townhouse all day."
"Oh, that's right. How did it go?"
"Well, tonight's dinner party was a lot less eventful than my last one, I can assure you."
"Any men?" Olivia laughed.
"A lot less of that, too. I mean there were men there, but the only bachelor was a scary looking proctologist." Lizzy looked at her doubtfully.
"I kid you not! Marion was really nice about introducing me to her guests and explaining what I do and a couple of people asked for my card, so I might get more business out of the deal. They asked a lot of questions."
"Did the proctologist ask for a card?" Lizzy teased.
"Strangely enough, I ran out," Olivia laughed. She hefted the cat and transferred him to Lizzy's lap as she rose and went into the kitchen. "So how did you spend your evening?"
"I got a new job." Olivia poked her head out of the kitchen.
"What did you say?"
"I got a job. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I did." Olivia put the kettle down and returned to the living room.
"Details."
"Well," Lizzy said as she sat up, causing Squeaks to huff and abandon her, "Last week Jane told me about a new magazine that was looking for someone to contribute articles to a monthly column. I wasn't very enthusiastic, but she told me to send her my resume and think about it. Well, I sent off the resume, but to tell you the truth, I completely forgot about the whole thing until I got a phone call this morning. It seems that Jane sent the editor in chief my resume along with a few of my articles. So I got this call, and I answered, assuming that it was you, or mom, or someone else I knew, and it's this guy offering me a job."
"Sweet!"
"We talked for a while and then we teleconferenced with a handful of other people, and before I knew it, I was named the New York region lifestyles editor of Urban magazine!"
"Well, this calls for a celebration!" Olivia, who believed in always keeping champagne on hand for emergencies, went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle and two glasses. She popped the cork and poured. It wasn't until she handed her roommate a glass that she became fully aware of Lizzy's slightly glazed expression. "What's wrong?"
"I'm an editor," she sighed. She clicked glasses with Olivia and took a sip. "And I haven't got anything to edit."
"Oh." Lizzy sighed once more.
"I need something to write! "
"What's the problem?"
"Well, when I wrote for Jane's magazines I was given topics to write about. Now I have to come up with my own ideas."
"You're full of ideas," Olivia smiled.
"I was, until I became an editor." Lizzy sighed again.
"Well, what's a lifestyles editor supposed to write about?" Lizzy shrugged.
"Anything and everything hip, trendy, and interesting, according to my new boss."
"Well, let's go out and find something! Yeah, let's go out tomorrow night and find something worth writing about!" Olivia said enthusiastically. "Lord knows we can use an airing." Lizzy laughed and shook her head.
"You can say that again! But I'm not sure that our having fun will translate into an article. "
"Well, it'd be a start. If you want to put your finger on the pulse of the city, you have to get out there and find it first." Lizzy smiled and raised her glass.
"Livy, I like the way you think."
The following morning was a disastrous one for Richard. First he overslept by twenty minutes--having sat up late the previous night to read, then he broke a glass and subsequently cut himself while cleaning up the mess. As a consequence, he left his apartment later than he'd been used to, and his bus ran smack into a detour due to a water main break on Madison Avenue. By the time he got off the bus it was nearly 7:20, and he was in a surly mood. Nothing had gone well for him since he'd gotten out of bed, and to top things off, he'd missed his daily meeting with Olivia. He was so annoyed, he briefly considered skipping the trip to the shop altogether, but lured by the thought of a nice comforting oatmeal cookie, he strode the short distance down the block. If there aren't any cookies left, I'm going straight home and back to bed, Richard decided, as he entered the shop.
Richard went to the bakery counter and ordered his cookie, and glanced at the coffee machine wistfully as he walked over to the refrigerator case to get a container of milk. A moment later, he frowned and retraced his steps. He paused to look at the coffee station. There was a lime green Post-It note affixed to the front of the large coffee urn. The message on it was succinct--what should have been a smiley face was frowning back at him. No, Richard concluded immediately, Not frowning; it is a pouting face. I'll bet she's adorable with a pout. He peeled off the note and carried it to the front of the store, where he paid for his cookie and milk.
"No coffee today?" the cashier smiled. Richard shook his head with a sad smile. He picked up his package and headed for his office. When he reached his desk, he pinned the note to the board over his computer and went off to make a pot of coffee.
"So where are we going tonight?" Lizzy shrugged and Olivia laughed. "This is an auspicious beginning. We're so out of the loop we don't even know where to go."
"Well, there's your first column. You can talk about the difficulties of being young, single, and hopelessly out of the loop."
"Great, Livy! And after that?"
"After that, you have to come up with ways to get back in the loop: where singles can meet besides singles events and blind dates. Millions will sing your praises," she giggled.
"Yes, but you're forgetting one thing. I don't have any answers to share with the millions awaiting enlightenment," Lizzy sighed.
"One step at a time. Let's make a list," Olivia said, reaching for a pad and pencil. "By the way, I expect full payment for my services."
"Well, I hope you're willing to accept it in the form of cat hair, because if I cannot find something to write about soon I'll be out of a job."
"Will you stop being melodramatic? And I was thinking of taking payment in the form of something as inexpensive, if not as plentiful, as Squeaks' fur."
"What?"
"Words." Lizzy's brow creased in confusion. "Well, my cooking class is due to start soon, and I was thinking...well, you know how you're always talking about my need to engage in a little shameless self-promotion..." Lizzy arched an eyebrow.
"Go on."
"I was thinking...maybe you'd want to do an article about my class. Just to get my name out there."
"And publish it where?" Olivia shrugged.
"I'd leave that up to you--hey! I just had a brilliant idea!"
"Like us going out tonight?" Lizzy smirked.
"You want to hear it or not? This is truly brilliant!"
"I can hardly wait," Lizzy deadpanned.
"Why not write about my class for Urban magazine?" Lizzy frowned.
"Come again?"
"Well, you want to write about places where singles could meet. Why not a cooking class?"
"Let me get this straight: you want me to write about your cooking class as a way to meet people?"
"Why not? A cooking class is a great place to meet people."
"And exactly how many singles are in your class?" Olivia hesitated.
"I don't know yet, but half of my last class was singles and there were a couple of hook ups."
"A couple of hook ups--."
"The idea of a cooking class is to learn how to cook, Lizzy, not to find a husband--at least not in class. But it's a great place to meet members of the opposite sex without the pressure of the social scene. Like going to the library."
"Excuse me? You meet men at the library?"
"Yes! I met Jon at the library remember? I'm always meeting interesting men there." Olivia frowned. "You're not writing, Lizzy."
"What am I supposed to be writing?" Olivia looked at her pointedly. "Oh. I'm supposed to be capturing your brilliance for posterity."
"All right, laugh at me. Ignore me." Olivia rose from the couch and headed for her bedroom.
"Livy!" Lizzy rose and followed her to her room. "Only you meet men in libraries. Men flock to you everywhere. Of course, the fact that you're a hopeless flirt has something to do with that..." Olivia smiled.
"There, another idea for a column: How to Flirt Shamelessly. You can interview me for my techniques."
"What techniques? Men simply look into your eyes and swoon."
"Well, there's a little more to it than that, Lizzy!"
"Oh? Do tell!" she cried, throwing herself onto the bed, her pencil poised above the pad. In spite of her joking manner, Lizzy was truly interested.
"Well, for one thing I smile at people, unlike you, who would just as soon glower at anyone who crosses your path."
"I do not!"
"And I also speak to people. Just last week I met a man at Paul's."
"Really? Then why are you spending Friday night with me instead of him?"
"We haven't really met, silly. We've just been flirting. He fixes me a cup of coffee every morning."
"Sounds serious," Lizzy deadpanned.
"It's just a bit of fun. I see him every morning--well, except for this morning--and we chat for a few seconds. Makes my day."
"Who is this guy?"
"I don't know, but he's gorgeous."
"And you accept coffee from him every morning? Olivia, has it occurred to you that this guy might be a serial killer, an escapee from a lunatic asylum, or worse--married?"
"He doesn't wear a wedding ring," she said thoughtfully. "Come on, Lizzy lighten up! It's just a harmless flirtation!"
"Yeah, they always talk about those on 'America's Most Wanted.' Be careful, Livy." Olivia rolled her eyes. "Whatever happened to your handsome architect?"
"He isn't my handsome architect. And I haven't heard from him since I took him those cookies. I invited Will to sign up for my cooking class. Maybe he'll take me up on my idea and I'll see him there."
"And if not, you're just going to let him get away?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Go flash your eyes at him, woman! He's available, you're available, he's hot, and..."
"Yes?" Olivia challenged. Lizzy rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
"And none of this is getting me anywhere! What are we doing tonight?"
"I've just decided. We're going to Soho."
"So you want me to go where?" Richard asked.
"I thought we should at least stop in, after all I designed the space. We can eat dinner first, stop by the opening, and then go on from there."
"Where?" Richard asked dubiously. Will shrugged.
"Anywhere but Caroline's party."
"Agreed."
"Who's Albert Frank?"
"He's an artist friend of mine; he used to work as a waiter to make ends meet at a restaurant I worked in. He's opening an exhibit at a new gallery in Soho and I got an invitation. It'll be fun. If nothing else, we can scout out the downtown scene." Lizzy sighed and returned to her bedroom and looked in the closet.
"Soho gallery--this calls for black, edgy, a little tight...and I haven't anything that fits that description," she pouted as she pushed garment after garment along the pole in a fruitless search for the perfect outfit. Finally, she came to a short black dress she hadn't worn in some time. "This will have to do." She took in out and put it on, then found a pair of shoes. She was fussing with her jewelry when Olivia came into her bedroom.
"Nice duds, Bennet! You don't look out of the loop at all!"
"Well, it's nice to know I can fake it," she laughed. "Livy, you look amazing! I knew I should have bought a pair of those when you did," she said as she admired Olivia's leather pants.
"Well, I did warn you," Olivia said as she dug into Lizzy's jewelry box and auditioned several necklaces to wear with her dusty lavender top. She selected one and held it up. "May I?"
"Be my guest."
"Thanks. In return I'll let you wear my shawl. It'll be the perfect accessory to that dress." She went to fetch the shawl and the two were soon off to Soho.
Richard stared distractedly out of the restaurant window. Will tried to figure out what had been bothering him all day. He had asked, but Richard had vaguely denied that anything was amiss. His face suddenly appeared to brighten as Will looked on. Richard appeared to be looking at someone or something out of the window. Will turned to see what Richard was now craning his neck at, but whatever or whoever it was, he missed it. When Will turned back, however, Richard appeared to be his normal self.
"What was that all about?" Will asked.
"What?"
"What were you looking at?"
"Oh. I just thought I saw someone I recognized."
"Was it her?"
"How did you--? I think so," he smiled.
"Who is she?" Will persisted.
"I don't know." Richard turned his attention back to his meal. Will frowned.
"How does one recognize someone he doesn't know?"
"Well, you know how it is--you see someone everyday, without ever meeting her. Her face becomes familiar," Richard said off-handedly. Will nodded and resumed eating.
"So why is Caroline throwing a party, anyway?" Will grimaced.
"Please, Richard...I'm eating."