April 10
I doodled on the first page of my empty notebook. A few flowers and raindrops. As if that would take my mind off the task at hand. What else to do in a waiting room wallpapered with glossy photographs of castles, vineyards and cocktail parties? I had already flipped through the latest magazine issue featuring spa getaways and tossed it back on the coffee table. I exchanged awkward glances with the new receptionist and then turned my attention to the pages that would soon be filled with my rapid drawings.
Once again, I had followed Blanche's advice. I sketched her face, with that authoritative expression I knew too well. So there I was, nervously waiting for Liz to appear at the door and lead me through the familiar newsroom. I hardly had enough for any kind of decent story pitch, but I would figure something out. What choice did I have? Sure, I had finally opened the envelopes from Gwen to discover checks adding up to a couple thousand dollars. But I couldn't live on that. I refused to rely on Paul or my sister or anyone else for that matter.
Paul. I drew the annoyed expression that often looked back at me. Disapproval was surrounding me lately. And I had only returned to New York five days ago. Oh, I guess you could say things fell into place easily enough. Paul welcomed me with open arms. I settled back into our apartment and not a word was mentioned about the real reason behind my absence. I hadn't sought out Will, and he hadn't appeared at our doorstep either. No word from Sam. No word from Destiny. No word from Gwen.
"Kat, how are you?" With her silver bob bouncing gracefully, Liz rushed into the room and took my hands. "Come on in. Sorry, I'm running late as usual!"
As I followed her, I nodded at those who maybe vaguely remembered me from better days. Back copies of the magazine, various newspapers, notebooks and gym bags littered the desks and floor. A recorded version of the latest Academy Awards show was playing on the flat screen along the far wall, and most eyes were turned in that direction.
I sank into the beanbag chair facing Liz's desk and took a deep breath.
"I shouldn't have dropped out of sight like I did," I said. "I had some health issues to deal with."
"Kat, I know," she said in her most discreet voice. "We saw how thin you had become."
I felt my face go hot. Had I truly thought I could hide my problem? I mean, going from 130 pounds to 85 isn't something people don't notice. The thought only occurred to me now, making me feel silly. I looked down and tried to regain my composure.
"You don't owe me an explanation," Liz continued. "I'm simply glad to see that you're doing well. So, let's get down to business. You have a story idea, I suppose?"
"Yes, and no... I mean... It's complicated." I felt flustered, but my voice took over where my courage faltered. "I was staying at this rather odd hotel in London this winter and observed a few strange happenings—noises in the hallway, unexplained laughter coming from nowhere. There's this woman named Destiny who has these fancy parties and spends a lot of time around the hotel—but during the night. Now the place is for sale, and they say it's going to be difficult. Apparently, I'm not the only one who's noticed something unusual."
I handed her a copy of the newspaper article.
Liz read it and looked at me over the rim of her rimless glasses. Then she took them off and placed them on her desk as she usually did when she had to mull over a problem.
"I like the idea, Kat, but there isn't enough meat to it. Maybe it would be something to monitor and come back to if and when they find a buyer. I'm sure the new owner would make some changes, so we could have a snazzy piece on what's being done. Some before and after shots, perhaps? We'll have to think about it..."
"But the mystery behind it is the most interesting element, Liz! I'm sure I could find guests to interview about what they've seen and heard...and Destiny's parties..."
"That should be part of it, of course, but we don't have enough for the moment, Kat. Our issues have been so full lately that only an outstanding story would be reason to bump something we already have planned. I'm sorry."
I nodded, trying to hide the disappointment of defeat.
"Let's talk again soon," Liz said, leaning forward and patting my arm. "I might have a few short pieces you could take on if that interests you."
I nodded again.
"Call me in about a month, then." She flashed a wide smile that did nothing to soften the rejection that had smashed my spirits.
I thanked her and slipped out of the newsroom before anyone could stop me for an unwelcome chat.
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