Honey on Your Mind Part 11

Gary laughed. "I like you, Waverly from San Francisco. You've got s.p.u.n.k."

I smiled and held up my gla.s.s to his. "I like you too, Gary from Nashville."

a a a The next morning, the entire Love, Wendy crew had a planning meeting at NBC. Wendy attended it, but arrived a few minutes late, looking a bit disheveled. That woman had never looked disheveled in all the time I'd known her, but today she just looked...off. Even her helmet hair was droopy. She sat down next to me at the far end of the conference table. I briefly took in her unusual appearance, and then turned my attention back to Scotty at the front of the room.

"So the powers that be at NBC have chosen December twelfth, at the lovely New York Athletic Club on Central Park South. If you have a conflict, that is unfortunate, because I believe the contract has already been signed, sealed, and delivered. Correct?" He gestured toward the intern, who nodded his confirmation without looking up from his phone. I think that thing was surgically attached to his hand.

"What's he talking about?" Wendy whispered to me.

"Holiday party. It's for all the daytime shows," I whispered back.

"Oh, yes, of course. I knew that." She seemed distracted, even a little dazed. What was that look in her eyes? Despite the typical power play of stating that of course she knew the party date ahead of time, she didn't look as, well, as evil as usual. I'd long ago abandoned my efforts to figure out what made her tick, but I was still curious.

Scotty kept talking. "Details to be announced, but it's going to be fun and fancy and full of famous people, so start shopping for that perfect outfit now." I adored Scotty, and so did everyone else, except Wendy. How could you not love a male boss who actually cared about what anyone was going to wear to the company holiday party?

"Also, I have another announcement. A big one," Scotty said.

We all looked at him.

"The bosses upstairs have decided to let us partic.i.p.ate in the New Year's Eve show."

We all raised our eyebrows.

"You mean the live show?" I said, swallowing. Live? As in the one with the ball?

"Yes and no. We'll film it live from Times Square, but it will be aired at our regular time slot the next morning."

"So...still basically live?" I said, feeling hoa.r.s.e.

He nodded. "Exactly. We expect enormous ratings for this because they're going to promote it on the regular live New Year's Eve show, so this is our chance to really make a name for Love, Wendy."

A wave of energy engulfed the room as everyone began chatting excitedly about the pseudo live broadcast. Amid the mayhem, I glanced up at Scotty, who looked at me and nodded slightly. This opportunity was a big deal for all of us, and I knew the pressure was on.

Yikes.

a a a After Scotty went over the logistics for the New Year's Eve show, he dove into the normal planning meeting. Soon, Wendy snapped out of her haze and returned to her old self. I flinched when she suggested we do a show on...child beauty pageants.

You can't be serious.

"I mean, I think that would make for a wuuunderful show, don't you agree?" She batted her eyelashes and looked around the room. As usual, no one disagreed...everyone was too afraid of her. Scotty wasn't intimidated like the rest of us were, but he rarely challenged her opinions either. I wondered whether that could be because he really didn't care. After all, he had plenty to think about with the Today show, the darling of the network. Normally, I didn't care all that much either because my contribution to the show was taped separately, but this new idea of Wendy's was too much for me.

I cleared my throat. "Um, don't you think that might be a little offensive to some people?"

She turned and looked at me. "Offensive? Why do you say that?" Her surprise at my objection seemed genuine.

How can you be so clueless? I wanted to say.

I s.h.i.+fted in my chair. "I mean, well, because there are a lot of people out there who think child beauty pageants aren't...aren't a very good idea."

She waved a hand in the air. "That's nonsense, Waverly. Beauty pageants are important for positioning women as strong members of society, and they provide wonderful educational opportunities through scholars.h.i.+ps. That's how I put myself through college." The when I was Miss South Carolina went unsaid, because we'd all heard her say it a thousand times.

I swallowed. "I totally understand that, but I mean child pageants. Adult pageants are one thing, but child pageants seem to be more about the parents than the kids." I quickly scanned the faces around the table for help. I could see support in everyone's eyes, but no one spoke up.

"Well, I disagree," Wendy said. She didn't sound angry, however. Then she completely surprised me. Instead of vetoing my dissenting opinion outright, she looked around the room. "What do y'all think? Do you think Waverly is right?"

I pleaded around the table with my eyes. Come, on people!

Finally, a couple of people nodded their heads.

"I think she's right," Scotty finally said. "To be honest, I think child pageants are awful."

The intern raised his hand without looking up from his phone. "I second that."

Wendy's eyes got big. "Really? Do y'all really think that?"

One by one, everyone in the room nodded.

I was afraid Wendy was going to slap me and storm out, but all she did was shrug her shoulders.

"Well, OK, then, I guess we'll scratch that idea. How about we move on to the cutest dog contest? I'm thinking only dogs that fit in purses could apply. Wouldn't that be faaabulous?"

And that was that.

a a a Later that morning, I was chatting with Scotty in the kitchen about the New Year's Eve show when Wendy walked in. Given her moodiness, I'd learned to mirror her behavior and not speak to her before she spoke to me, but for some reason, that day I decided to roll the dice and be friendly. Maybe it was because of her change of heart about the child pageant show, or maybe it was because I knew I'd be on a plane to Cleveland in a couple of days. When I was about to see Jake, nothing could sour my cheeriness, not even crazy Wendy Davenport.

"Hi, Wendy, how's it going?" I said with a smile.

Scotty looked up from his coffee mug at the sound of my voice, clearly surprised to hear it. He knew my strategy for dealing with her because he employed it too: Don't speak until spoken to. I think pretty much everyone who worked on the show did the same thing.

She sighed loudly. "h.e.l.lo, Waverly. h.e.l.lo, Scott. I'm doing fine, not great." She placed a tea bag into a mug and poured hot water over it.

Now I was the one who was surprised. In all the months I'd known her, Wendy had never been so candid.

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I didn't say anything.

"I just haven't been sleeping well lately," she added, her back still to us.

I looked at Scotty, who raised his hands in an I have no idea gesture.

"Um, I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

She turned around and half smiled. "Thanks. To be honest, I'm a bit stressed out about something."

Now I was nearly speechless. Who are you, and what have you done with Wendy? I stole a glance at Scotty, who looked equally confused.

We sat there in awkward silence for a moment, and then I finally spoke.

"Um, would you like to have lunch with us? Maybe talk about it? Or get your mind off it? Your call." Did I just invite Wendy to have lunch with Scotty and me? Who am I, and what have I done with Waverly?

She smiled. "Really? That would be lovely."

I pulled my phone out of my purse and looked at the time. "We were going to meet with the editing team and then go to lunch around noon. Would that work?"

She smiled again and shook her head. "I'd love to, but I have an appointment." She pointed to her forehead and whispered, "Botox."

I nodded. "Got it. Maybe another time."

"I'd like that. Thanks, Waverly." She picked up her tea and nodded politely to both of us, then walked out of the kitchen.

I looked at Scotty, who again held his hands up in a what-the-h.e.l.l? gesture.

"Now I feel sort of mean for hating her," I whispered.

"I don't," he whispered back.

a a a Thursday morning, I got up at the crack of dawn to tape a new segment at a trendy gym in the West Village. (Getting in shape for holiday parties apparently was on many people's minds). Afterward, I stopped by NBC to discuss a few things with Scotty, rushed home to handle a few orders for Waverly's Honey Shop, took them to the post office, and then sprinted back home again to pack for Cleveland. I'd meant to hit the post office the day before, but I'd been at the studio late working on a different segment with the editing team. When I finally got home, I fell asleep on the couch watching an old episode of Seinfeld. I woke up at two o'clock with the newspaper stuck to my face, then crawled into my bed, and pa.s.sed out again until my alarm went off at five.

Late that afternoon, I jumped into a cab and met Paige at the airport, and soon we were on our way to Ohio. I took the window seat and planned to be asleep in approximately seven minutes.

"We did it," she said a few minutes after the plane took off.

I looked up from my magazine. "We did what? We made our flight?"

"It. Gary and I. We did it."

I opened my eyes wide. "You hadn't done it yet?"

She shook her head. "I'm Paige, not Andie, remember?"

I laughed. "I'm sorry. I just a.s.sumed it was in your shared DNA. So how was it?"

She leaned back in her seat and smiled. "I think...I think I'm in love."

"No way. For real?"

She sat up straight. "OK maybe not love, but I'm definitely in like."

I nodded. "In like is good."

"In like is very good. It's all so good. I can't believe how good it is."

I tucked my magazine into the seat pocket. "So what about his kids, his ex, the whole Nashville thing. Doesn't that scare you a little bit?"

She shrugged. "It's not ideal, but what is ideal anymore? I'm thirty-four years old, and until recently I've been dating guys who are my age-if not older-who still act like they're in college. They don't call or even text when they say they will, they expect you to hop in the sack on the first date, and they're usually dating half of Manhattan along the way. New York is filled with playboys, and I'm just sick of that whole scene. I'd rather date a divorce who lives in another state than deal with another a.s.shole."

I'd never heard her speak with such conviction. It made me smile.

I thought about what she said before replying.

"I hadn't thought about it until now, but having a boyfriend has definitely made my move to New York easier. Trying to deal with dating on top of everything I've got going on would be too much. At least with Jake, the only issues we're dealing with are geography and our crazy schedules." Those issues were beginning to concern me, however, and I was really looking forward to seeing him in person.

"See what I mean? Dating is really hard here," she said.

I nodded. "I don't think I could take the anxiety of wondering if or even when he was going to ask me out again." It hadn't been very long since I'd been in that exact position and I never wanted to go back there.

She stuck out her tongue. "I hate the dating scene here. It's too compet.i.tive for me. On Monday, the night before Gary came into town, I had another date through that dating service I told you about."

"The one you hate? What did you say it was called? Just Joking Around?"

She laughed. "Just a Drink, but I call them Just a Joke, because they suck."

"If they suck so much, why do you keep using them?"

"Because I paid them up front for a set number of dates. That's why they don't care about setting me up with losers-they already have my money. A lot of it."

"Yikes."

"Yeah, like I said, they suck. Anyhow, they set me up with this man they said owned his own business, so I figured he had to be interesting, right?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't know if I want to hear where this is going. Am I going to need a drink to hear where this is going?" I pretended to flag down a flight attendant.

She laughed. "They also told me he was funny, and that he liked wine."

I held up three fingers. "Owns own business. Funny. Likes wine. I would say *How can you go wrong?' but something clearly went wrong."

She nodded. "So the guy walks in and sits down at the bar, then proceeds to order a gla.s.s of tap water because he doesn't drink."

"He ordered tap water at a bar?"

"Oh yes. Plain, free, tap water. Nothing else."

I scrunched up my face. "Not good."

"Definitely not good. So then, we start chatting, and despite what the agency people have told me about him, he is not funny. He is the opposite of funny. He is Eeyore."

I laughed. "Eeyore? From Winnie the Pooh?"

She nodded. "He could make Debbie Downer look like the life of the party."

"I could never understand why Eeyore was so sad all the time. Why was he so b.u.mmed out? I mean, Winnie the Pooh and Piglet and even Christopher Robin seemed fun to hang out with, right?"

She put her hand on my arm. "Focus, Waverly."

"Oops, sorry." I blinked and shook my head. "OK, I'm focusing. So he doesn't drink, and he's clinically depressed. What happened next?"

"So I'm sitting there drinking my wine while he drinks his tap water, and we get on the topic of our jobs." She gestured to me and then back to herself. "I told him about Waverly's Honey Shop and my other accounts."

"OK..."