Part 3 (1/2)
”OK...”
”And then the next day he sent me a text message...”
”OK...”
”Actually, it wasn't really a message.”
She raised her eyebrows.
”It was a photo. Just a photo. No message.”
She kept her eyebrows raised. ”And?”
”The photo was of himself...no s.h.i.+rt on...with one hand holding the camera...and the other hand...down his underwear.”
Her eyes got big. ”No way.”
I nodded.
”There's no way that really happened.”
I pulled out my phone. ”Oh yes it did.” I scrolled through the photos and showed it to her.
”No way.” She said again as she looked at the picture. ”That's totally his package. I can't believe it.”
I laughed. ”Yep, right there for the whole world to see through a thin layer of cotton.”
”Did you reply?”
I shook my head. ”Before I got a chance to do anything, he sent me another text.”
”Another photo?”
”No, this one was a message that said *Wanna see it?'”
”He did not.”
I laughed. ”Oh yes he did.”
”What did you do?”
”I replied that no, I did not want to see it.”
”Wow, that's off the charts, Waverly.”
I grinned. ”I know. Did I win?”
”I think you just did. She pulled her own phone out of her purse and looked at it. ”And I can't play this game any longer because I've really got to run now, or I'll be late.”
”Good luck. I hope your date tonight doesn't make our list.”
”I hope not too. It was so nice meeting you. I'll be in touch soon about the Honey products, OK? I promise to take good care of you.”
I smiled. ”Sounds good to me. I'm so glad to have you to help me with this.”
”Oh gosh, it's my pleasure. Plus, if I do my job right, we'll both make out like bandits.” She put the binder and Honey Tote back inside her bag and slung it over her shoulder. ”Welcome to New York, my new friend. We're glad to have you.”
She gave me a quick hug and was gone.
I pulled out my phone as soon as she left and was happy to see a timely new text from Jake: Back in Atlanta, but wish I were still in Brooklyn I smiled at the message. I'd certainly come a long way from the guy with one hand down his boxer briefs.
a a a When I'd come to New York in the past, I'd always taken cabs, since my company was paying. But truth be told, I'd also been a bit overwhelmed by the sheer enormity and complexity of the subway system. Now that I was living here, though-not to mention paying for my own transportation-I was determined to master it. So, on the morning of my first meeting at Love, Wendy, I anxiously followed the ma.s.ses down into the Court Street stop.
At Union Square in Manhattan, I stepped off the train and stood on the platform for a moment, taking in the madness. Then I looked overhead and studied the signs to find the correct uptown route before I plunged into the swarming crowd. Along the way, I strolled by an eight-person jazz band and what appeared to be a fully functioning police station. Underground. On the final leg of my journey, I avoided the scary smiles of a few The World Is Ending pamphlet pushers, steered clear of a couple of sleeping/pa.s.sed out people, and finally descended another stairway to reach the correct uptown platform, which was teeming with commuters moving in all directions. In the middle of the chaos, a man with dreadlocks down to his waist calmly played a Jamaican steel drum.
It wasn't even nine o'clock.
As I waited for the connecting train to arrive, I wondered if anyone actually lived in the subway. It certainly seemed possible. I figured it was only a matter of time before someone made a reality show out of it.
a a a I arrived at NBC with time to spare. Scotty had been traveling the entire week before, so we hadn't connected more than briefly by phone. That meant I was essentially walking into my first day blind-and desperately hoping I wouldn't crash into anything.
I checked in with the receptionist at the front desk, who directed me to HR to fill out some paperwork before I was to join the team at ten o'clock. When I was done with that, I still had time to kill, so I played with my phone for a while and pretended to look busy. Finally, I decided to make my way to the conference room. As I walked down the crisp hallways, I half expected a security guard to appear out of nowhere, grab my elbow, and escort me from the premises.
I couldn't believe how nervous I was.
I arrived at the meeting about five minutes early. There was only one person seated at the huge table, and he looked about seventeen, so I figured he was an intern. He appeared to be playing a game on his phone. I smiled at him and sat down at the opposite end of the table, wondering if he was an executive's kid. I pulled out a notebook and looked over at him again. He didn't raise his eyes from the screen.
OK, then.
A few minutes later, the room began to fill up. People arrived in pairs or threes, chatting among themselves. No one paid me much attention, so I focused on breathing deeply and trying not to sweat too much. Then Scotty walked in.
Thank G.o.d. A familiar face.
As soon as he saw me, he trotted over to give me a big hug. Apparently, it's OK to hug at the office in the world of TV.
”Waverly! It's so great to see you. Welcome to NBC. Welcome to New York!”
”Thanks, Scotty. It's great to see you too. I can't believe this is really happening.” I kept my voice low.
”I'm so excited to have you on board. You're going to do just great.”
”I'm totally nervous,” I added in a whisper.
He squeezed my shoulders tightly. ”Don't worry for a minute. Let's grab coffee after this, OK?”
I nodded and sat down as he walked to the front of the room. ”Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce the newest member of the Love, Wendy team, Ms. Waverly Bryson.”
Everyone looked at me. I smiled and tried to make eye contact all around, but it felt a bit forced. I hoped no one noticed how uncomfortable I felt.
”As you may already know, she'll be hosting a new segment called Honey on Your Mind, based on a popular advice column she wrote for the San Francisco Sun. It's going to be a fun addition to the show.”