Farewell, Dorothy Parker (27 page)

A wave of anxiety gripped Violet, as she tried to imagine the trouble Mrs. Parker could get into. Worse, it occurred to her that she might never see her idol again. She held back tears. Did she have to lose yet another person in her life? It was so unfair.

“Are you okay?” Malcolm said. “You look a little ill.”

“Do you know where she went?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t say. Is there some kind of problem?”

Sandra showed up behind him. “If you find that woman, I want to have words with her.”

“You do?”

“Sixty dollars went missing from my wallet, and I think she took it.”

“She didn’t even step inside the house,” Malcolm said to his wife. Then he turned to Violet. “She just forgot what she spent it on.”

“I know what I spent!” Sandra said.

“So how do you suppose this woman stole from you?” he asked. “You think she went invisible when you weren’t looking?”

“What are you talking about?” Sandra said. “That doesn’t even make sense. If someone goes invisible, it doesn’t matter if you’re looking.”

“It doesn’t
have to
make sense,” he said. “People can’t
go
invisible.”

“I know that. You think I don’t know that?”

“So then why did you say—”

“I was just pointing out how illogical you are!” Sandra said.

“
Me?
You’re the one who thinks an invisible woman stole your money.”

Sandra growled. “He’s impossible,” she said to Violet.

“I…I have to go,” Violet said. “Are you sure you don’t know where she went?”

Sandra shrugged. “No idea. But I sure would like to talk to her.”

Violet said good-bye and turned to leave.

“Wait a second,” Malcolm said, “I just remembered something. She asked me if there was a train station in walking distance. I thought that was kind of odd. Doesn’t she drive?”

“Uh…no. She doesn’t.”

“I never heard of someone living out here without a car. Doesn’t she have trouble getting around?”

Violet swallowed against a lump in her throat. “Apparently not.”

Chapter 31

When Violet arrived at her office, Andi was already there—dressed in black boots, black tights, and a black miniskirt with a red-and-black-striped top—holding a steaming coffee cup. Violet stared at the girl, seething. How could she look so nonchalant after what she had done?

“Buck is looking for you,” Andi said.

Violet dropped her handbag onto her desk and took the coffee. “Of course he is.”

“And there was a woman here, waiting for you. I don’t know where she went. She was here yesterday, too.”

Violet was too angry to look Andi in the eye. She picked up the pile of mail that had been dropped in the middle of her desk and riffled through it. She felt like she might explode. “What woman?”

“A Mrs. Buchanan? Short lady with dark hair. Cool dress—very vintage.”

At least there’s that, Violet thought. At least her friend was looking for her and would probably turn up again soon. Still, it wasn’t going to keep her from getting fired. She threw the mail aside.

“Sit down,” she said. “We need to talk.”

Andi sat and tucked her blue-black hair behind her ears. “What’s up? Should I get something to write with?”

Violet felt like her heart might thump right out of her chest. How dare this little shit sit there and pretend nothing was wrong!

“You are one cold, calculating bitch,” Violet said. She didn’t measure her words. She didn’t worry about their power to harm. She was too furious to be frightened.

Andi blinked. “What?”

“A bitch,” Violet repeated. “A liar. A bottom feeder. A filthy, manipulating piece of garbage.”

Dorothy Parker was right. This was intoxicating. She deserved this anger.

Andi looked stunned. “I don’t understand.”

“Is that the tactic you want to employ right now? That you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“But I
don’t.
”

“That e-mail you sent to ABC,” Violet said. “Right after I told you to turn them down!”

“Violet…uh, Ms. Epps, I never—”

“Don’t lie to me! You’re making it worse.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I have irrefutable proof, Andi! They got an e-mail from you accepting the appearance on my behalf.”

“Not from me, from
you.
”

“That’s ridiculous,” Violet said.

“But it came from
your
e-mail account.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You told me to send them an e-mail turning them down, but when I checked my in-box, there was an e-mail from you to that
Good Morning America
producer saying you’d be delighted. You CCed me. I figured you changed your mind. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, because I know you get nervous about these things.”

“But I never wrote to them!” Violet insisted.

“Check your out-box.”

Violet turned on her computer and stared, waiting for it to boot
up. Her anger, a simmering cauldron, was now a confused and messy soup.

“I swear,” Andi said. “I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t. I know I can be a snotty little bitch sometimes. My mother says I get it from my dad, who’s a total prick. But I’m not like him. I just, you know, show off. I’m
not
a backstabber.”

Violet’s screen came to life, and she opened her e-mail. Sure enough, there was a message from her to the producer of
Good Morning America
:

“Oh, God,” Violet whispered, as she felt herself dissolve. She read the message again, but there could be no other conclusion. The language, the grammar, the meticulously placed semicolon—it all made one thing abundantly clear. Someone had indeed betrayed her, but it wasn’t Andi. It was Dorothy Parker.

But how had she done it? And when?

Then Violet remembered. Mrs. Parker had been buzzing around the office on the day she had given Andi instructions on how to handle the invitation. When Violet stepped out for a meeting, her wicked friend must have materialized and typed the message.

Violet put her head in her hands. Why had she ever shown Dorothy Parker how to send an e-mail?

“Are you okay?” Andi asked.

“No.”

“Do you need anything?”

Violet shook her head. “Just leave. And shut the door.”

“But Buck is—”

“Waiting for me,” Violet said, without looking up. “I know. Tell him I need a few minutes.”

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

“Just go. Please.”

Andi left and closed the door behind her. Alone, Violet put her head down on her desk and wept. Dorothy Parker had been her mentor. She was supposed to help her…to make her better, braver. Instead, she had wrecked her chances with a man she was falling in love with, put her career in jeopardy, and, worst of all, nearly obliterated any chance she had of gaining custody of her niece.

“How could she!” Violet cried.

Don’t be so dramatic. It was for your own good.

“Huh?” Violet looked up, and there, in the chair where Andi had been sitting, was Dorothy Parker. “Where did you come from?” she said.

Mrs. Parker pointed to the floor beneath the credenza. Violet leaned forward and saw it—the large Macy’s box containing the Algonquin guest book. “I’ve been here the whole time,” the legendary writer said. “You did a hell of a job chewing out that ghoulish girl.”

Yes, she had been vicious. Brutal. This was what happened when she finally uncorked. “Poor Andi,” she said. “What have I done?”

“It was quite amusing.”

Amusing? She thought this was
amusing
?

“I should close that damned guest book and bury it!” Violet said.

“You’ll wind up thanking me.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“You were actually quite good on that television program, once you settled in.”

“You saw it?”

“With that awful couple. I knew you would need reassurance, so I materialized, picked up the box, and left. I considered taking your advice to visit my mother’s grave, but I knew that could wait, as she’s likely not going anywhere. So I came straight into the city to look for you.”

“Did you steal sixty dollars from the Webers?”

“More than that, I would think,” Mrs. Parker said.

“So you were here yesterday, in this office?”

“For a short time, then I left to wander the city. Never did make it back to the Algonquin, though I long to see the old girl. But I learned quite a bit about the modern world. Did you know there’s not a bar in Midtown that lets a lady have a cigarette?”

How could she be so casual when Violet wanted to scream? “Did
you
know I’m about to get called into my boss’s office to get fired? I’m sure you don’t think that’s any big deal. Hell, you probably
wanted
me to get fired. I bet that was your goal. You think it’s character-building or some bullshit.”

“It most certainly was
not
my goal. But now that you mention it, I don’t think it would be the worst thing in the world. One day, you might even find an amusing way to talk about it.”

“This is my life!” Violet shouted. “It’s not some colorful anecdote destined to become cocktail-party chatter! It could be the end of my career and a very sorry day for a little girl who deserves a chance to come home.”

“Oh, come now—”

“Don’t!” Violet said. “Don’t you dare try to convince me I’m overreacting! There is nothing adorable about your mischief. You are a reckless and dangerous woman.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Spare me your glib comebacks.” Violet put her head in her hands again. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re taking this awfully hard.”

“Shut up.”

“You don’t even know if you’re going to get fired. Why don’t you save your hysteria for—”

“I said,
shut up
!”

“Not in my nature, dear. But here’s a thought. Perhaps I could spy on your boss before you go in there. Certainly, it would help if you knew what he had planned.”

Violet’s phone rang, and she ignored it. “I don’t want any more of your ‘favors.’ ”

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

Violet snatched her phone from the receiver. “Hello!”

“Hi, Aunt V.”

“Delaney. What’s the matter?”

“What time are you picking me up today?”

“Picking you up?” Violet asked.

“For the screening.”

“That. Oh, God. I’m sorry, hon, we can’t—”

“But you promised!”

“I know. It’s just a very, very bad time.”

“Did you forget? It sounds like you forgot.”

“There’s a lot going on here right now.”

“We had a deal!” Delaney said. “You can’t back out. You
can’t
!”

“I’m sorry.”

“I knew this would happen! I knew you would forget about me!”

“Delaney, I could never forget about you. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

“Liar!” Delaney said, her hysteria mounting. “If I was so important, you’d take me like you promised.”

“Honey, look. There’s a lot of trouble here right now. It’s serious.”

“What do you mean? Like at your job?”

“Yes, at my job.”

“Are you getting fired or something?” the girl asked.

“I don’t know, sweetie. Maybe.”

Delaney started crying.

“It’ll be okay,” Violet lied. “I promise.”

She paused for a response, but all she heard was sniffling.

“Delaney—”

“Second-period bell,” she said. “I have to go to class.”

“Are you all right?”

Silence.

“Delaney?”

She was gone. Violet hung up the phone and looked up. Dorothy Parker was gone, too.

Chapter 32

Dead man walking.

As Violet moved through the corridor toward Buck’s office, she remembered the Sean Penn film that had so effectively conveyed what it felt like for a death-row inmate to take that final walk toward his ultimate fate.

Violet pictured Buck’s somber face as he delivered the news. His hands would be folded on his desk.
I’m sorry,
he would say.
Not my decision.
He would throw around phrases like
current environment
and
skittish advertisers.
He probably even had another reviewer waiting in the wings to take her job. Maybe, in the final twist of irony, it would be Andi. How perfect. Would they expect Violet to pack up and leave today? Would he be willing to give her a letter of recommendation?