Getting Even Page 9

  “Anyway, this fabulous singer is giving a performance Saturday night at one of the local clubs,” Murray said. “And my client wants me to go, check his little chicky out, see if I can get her some singing jobs in the area. Naturally, he doesn’t want her to get too big, because then he’ll lose her. He’d deny it, but I know. You get to a certain age, you know these things.”

  Annie knew a lot of them already, and she was only seventeen. Only seventeen. She smiled at how that sounded.

  “Maddy won’t go,” Murray said. “She sees it as a betrayal of our friendship. But I promised my client we’d check this singer out. Conflicting loyalties. I used to have hair, you know. Years ago. This job has cost me every hair on my head.”

  “I sure hope it doesn’t do that to me,” Annie said.

  “So could you cover for me?” Murray asked. “I fibbed and told my client that Maddy and I had a wedding to go to that night, but that I’d send one of my associates to give me a report, and these days you’re my favorite associate.”

  To the best of Annie’s knowledge, she was the only associate Murray Levine Associates could brag about. “All you want is for me to hear this woman sing on Saturday night?” she asked.

  “That’s it in a nutshell,” Murray said. “Naturally I’ll pay all your expenses. And let me know honestly if this girl has talent. We can always use a talented singer, even if my wife doesn’t want to touch her with a ten-foot pole.”

  “I have a date Saturday night,” Annie said. “But we don’t have specific plans.”

  “So you go to this club,” Murray said. “It’ll take maybe a couple of hours. You can get his opinion too. Harvard boy, right? I can tell my client that. Harvard has a ring to it.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Annie said. “I’ll have to ask, but I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

  “Great,” Murray said. “Today’s your birthday, right?”

  “Right,” Annie said.

  “Then go home early,” Murray said. “My birthday present to you. It’d be a great favor to me if you did hear her sing. And for all we know, she’s the next Streisand. Although for my client’s sake, I hope not.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, to let you know,” Annie said. “And thanks for letting me go home early.”

  Murray looked at his watch. “You’re getting a twenty-minute present,” he informed her. “Get out of here fast, before it’s reduced to fifteen.”

  She caught a train home, and walked from the station briskly. She was sure it would be no problem with Chris. Actually, they hadn’t discussed what they’d be doing on Saturday. Annie had simply assumed they’d be doing something, since they had every Saturday since they’d met. And while that hadn’t been all that many Saturdays ago, it was enough that the pattern had definitely been established.

  She liked the patterns she had with Chris, she thought, as she walked under the trees with their leaves starting to turn colors. They saw each other a couple of times a week in the afternoons, just for a walk or a soda. Then on Saturday nights they had their official do-something dates. And if neither of them was flooded with work, they saw each other Sunday afternoons as well. Of course weekend after next, they wouldn’t be seeing each other at all, since she’d be on Long Island, and he’d be at his father’s next wedding. But she was sure things would continue as soon as they both got back.

  “Happy birthday, Annie,” her mother said, as Annie came in. “You’re home early.”

  “Murray let me out as a present,” Annie said, surveying the kitchen. Her mother was hard at work. “Do you need me for anything?”

  “Not a thing,” her mother replied. “Why don’t you use the time to do some homework?”

  “Good idea,” Annie said. “Give me a call if you change your mind.”

  “All right,” her mother said, but she was already paying more attention to the vegetables than to Annie. Annie smiled at her, and went up to her bedroom. She was in such a good mood that even physics homework on her birthday didn’t bother her.

  She got most of her work done before her father got home, so when she heard him, she put her books aside, and went downstairs to join him. They were setting the table when Chris rang the bell. Annie answered the door, and tried not to feel self-conscious about his kissing her in front of her parents. It was her birthday, after all. She was entitled to a kiss from her boyfriend on her birthday.

  Her parents didn’t argue. Soon the four of them were sitting in the livingroom. “It’s nice of you to include me,” Chris said to Annie’s parents. “I appreciate it.”

  “We could hardly not invite you,” Annie’s mother said. “Especially since Annie isn’t having a birthday party this year.”

  “I’m too old for birthday parties,” Annie said.

  “Ouch,” her father said. “I’m not sure I’m ready to be the father of someone who’s too old for birthday parties.”

  “Like it or not, you are,” Annie said. “Birthday parties are for kids, and I’m not a kid. Besides, last year, after my sweet sixteen, you swore never to give me another party again.”

  “I meant it too,” Annie’s father said. “But I could have had my mind changed if you’d asked.”

  “I’d rather have a graduation party,” Annie declared. “That’ll be something worth celebrating.”

  “I hope I’m invited to that celebration too,” Chris said.

  I hope we’re still a couple then too, Annie thought to herself, but said aloud, “Speaking of invitations, I have one for you. For Saturday night.”

  Chris looked uncomfortable. “I need to discuss Saturday night with you too,” he said.

  “You go first,” Annie said, not liking his tone of voice at all.

  “My father’s going to be in town this weekend,” Chris said. “He’s coming in on business tomorrow, and he figured as long as he was here, he’d stay over for the weekend, and give us a chance to see each other, go over wedding plans.”

  “That’s right,” Annie’s mother said. “You mentioned your father was remarrying. You must be pleased to be seeing him.”

  Chris nodded. “It will be nice to have some time with him before things get hectic,” he said.

  “Is his fiancée coming with him?” Annie’s mother asked.

  “She’s working,” Chris said. “So it’s just my father.”

  “Does this mean we’re not on for Saturday night?” Annie asked. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t mind. I mean, I’d be disappointed, but it wouldn’t be a problem. But I’d really like to see you this Saturday night.” Annie wasn’t comfortable having this conversation in front of her parents but there was no way she could stop it now.

  “Of course we’re on for Saturday night,” Chris replied. “Are you kidding? My dad wants to meet you. He just wants to take the two of us out for dinner Saturday night, that’s all.”

  “Oh,” Annie said. “That’s no problem. It should be interesting meeting your father. I’d love to see if he looks the way I imagine.”

  “That problem seems to have solved itself,” Annie’s father said.

  “Not really,” Annie said. “I have to hear a singer sing Saturday night for business. Is your father the type who might like to go to a club after dinner to hear her perform?”

  “That should be fine with him,” Chris said. “It’s really all right with you?”

  “It’s fine,” Annie declared. “I’ll call Murray and tell him it’ll be three people.”

  “Why can’t Murray hear her sing instead?” Annie’s father asked. “Why do you have to?”

  Annie considered explaining why, and decided it was one of those stories that shouldn’t leave the office. “He has a wedding to go to,” she said. “And he promised he’d hear the woman sing as a personal favor to one of his clients. So I’m representing him.”

  “So much power,” her father said. “Isn’t this how Eva Peron started?”

  “I should hope not,” Annie’s mother said. “How about if we start dinner, before eve
rything burns?”

  “That seems like a reasonable alternative,” Annie’s father said, and soon they were all sitting around the dining-room table, passing the salad and treating themselves to second helpings of the chicken.

  “I hope you’re not too old for birthday cake,” Annie’s mother said. “Because I got a beauty.”

  “You’re never too old for birthday cake,” Annie’s father said. “There’s a law about that.”

  “No candles,” Annie said. “You didn’t put candles on it, did you, Mom?”

  “Of course I did,” her mother replied. “It isn’t a birthday cake unless it has candles.”

  Annie sighed. “I’ll never grow up,” she declared.

  “Right,” her mother said. “To me, you’ll always be my baby.”

  Annie was saved from replying by the ringing of the phone. She ran to grab it.

  “Happy birthday!” Robin said. “Want me to sing it?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Annie asked.

  “Of course not,” Robin said, and burst into a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday to You. “How’re things going? You having a great birthday?”

  “Great enough,” Annie said. “Mom is about to make me blow out candles.”

  “You can do it,” Robin declared. “What did Chris give you?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Annie replied.

  “He must be there,” Robin said. “How wonderful. I wish Tim could be here for my birthday. I wish he could be here for anybody’s birthday. Long-distance romances are the pits, Annie.”

  “You’ll be seeing him in a few days,” Annie said. “You can make it until then.”

  “I have to, I suppose,” Robin said. “Any word from Torey, about whether she can come too?”

  “Not yet,” Annie said. “I’ll call her this weekend and see if she’s decided.”

  “I sure hope she can,” Robin declared. “Boy, am I a pig. I want to see you and Tim and Torey too. Have you heard from Ashley lately?”

  “She sent me a birthday card,” Annie said. “It came yesterday. I was shocked.”

  “She needs to stay in touch with us,” Robin said. “Which reminds me, I owe her a letter. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your birthday candles, but let me know what Chris gives you, and if Torey’s coming, and anything else you can think of between now and next Friday.”

  “I will,” Annie promised. “Bye Robin. Thanks for calling.”

  “Happy birthday,” Robin said, hanging up.

  “The candles are melting,” Annie’s mother called. “Get in here Annie, unless you want to eat a wax cake.”

  “I’m coming,” Annie said, and as she walked into the dining room, she was greeted with another chorus of Happy Birthday to You. It only took one healthy gust of air for Annie to blow out the eighteen candles.

  They lingered at the table, drinking coffee and tea, eating cake, and talking about books and movies and Chris’s classes. Annie marveled at how right it all felt. She hoped that she was that comfortable Saturday night with Chris’s father. It would be all right if she wasn’t, she knew, since he lived three thousand miles away. And even if things were strained that evening, they’d be listening to the chicky singer for at least part of the evening, and there would be no need for conversation then. And no matter what happened, she and Chris would make it through.

  She looked at Chris, discussing chess with her father, and she smiled. She never had to worry about being embarrassed by her parents. Not everyone could say that, she knew. It was definitely something to be grateful for.

  And Chris. What a miracle he was. He didn’t have to give her anything for her birthday. Just his being there was gift enough.

  The grandfather clock chimed nine times, and Chris automatically checked his watch at the sound. “It’s nine already?” he said. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve a ton of work for tomorrow.”

  “I’ll see you out,” Annie said, getting up with him. She walked to the closet and got him his jacket.

  “No fair snooping,” Chris said, as she handed him the jacket.

  “I wasn’t snooping,” Annie said. “Besides, what would I find in there?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Chris said. “Maybe this.” He took a small, gift-wrapped box out of his pocket. “Happy birthday, Annie.”

  “You didn’t have to get me anything,” Annie said. “Gimme.”

  Chris laughed. “Kiss me first,” he demanded, and Annie was happy to acquiesce.

  “Now gimme, pretty please,” she said, trying to grab the box from him.

  “It’s yours,” Chris said. “I hope you like it.”

  “I will,” Annie replied. “Unless it’s something really disgusting.”

  “I don’t think it’s disgusting,” Chris said, handing the box to her. “Of course my taste is questionable. Look who I’m dating.”

  Annie swatted at him. “The wrapping is so beautiful,” she said, ripping it off. “I hope you weren’t sentimentally attached to it.”

  “Not anymore,” Chris said.

  It was a jeweler’s box. Annie held her breath until she opened the little black velvet box. Inside was a small perfect opal pendant on a silver chain.

  “Oh, Chris!” Annie cried, hugging and kissing him. “It’s beautiful. I love it. Thank you.”

  “It reminded me of you,” he said.

  “I’ll put it on right now,” Annie told him, and with trembling fingers, she removed it from its box, and managed to get it around her neck. “Could you fix the clasp for me?” she asked. “I’m too excited.”

  “It’d be my pleasure,” Chris said, and he put it on for her. “Let me see,” he demanded, and Annie modeled it for him. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “You’re beautiful. Happy birthday, Annie.”

  “Thank you,” Annie said. “I’ll treasure it forever, Chris.”

  “I treasure you,” he said. “So I guess that makes things even.”

  And they shared a kiss.

  Chapter 10

  Chris’s father was gorgeous.

  Annie wasn’t sure why she was so surprised to see that. Chris was awfully good-looking so it made sense his father would be too. Except that Mr. Wainwright didn’t look like Chris. He looked like Cary Grant did in old movies on television.

  The three of them shared the front seat of Mr. Wainwright’s rented car to the very expensive restaurant he took them to. It was the sort Annie fantasized about eating at, and had eaten at once or twice in New York when they were being treated by Image.

  “That’s a lovely dress, Annie,” Mr. Wainwright said, after he pulled a chair out for her at the restaurant. “The color is very flattering.”

  “Thank you,” Annie said. “I bought it last summer, when I was in New York.” She tried to remember if Chris had ever complimented her on her clothes. It seemed to her he had liked her baseball cap.

  “That’s right,” Mr. Wainwright said. “You had a summer internship at Image magazine. Chris mentioned that to me.”

  Annie smiled at Chris. He didn’t smile back. Now that Annie thought about it, Chris hadn’t smiled once the entire evening, not since Mr. Wainright had picked her up, and spent a few minutes charming her parents. Whatever the problem was, Annie hoped Chris would work it out and become his usual charming self.

  “It must have been quite an opportunity,” Mr. Wainwright declared. “And I’m sure the competition was quite fierce to get the internship.”

  “There were seven thousand applicants,” Annie said. “Of course, not all of them applied for the editorial position, Mr. Wainwright.”

  “Call me Bob,” he said, and offered Annie a smile. Chris had definitely inherited his father’s teeth.

  “All right, Bob,” Annie said, smiling back. A summer at Image had taught her how to call unknown adults by their first names, a social skill she found more and more useful.

  “I worked as a summer intern at a Wall Street law firm,” Bob declared. “Between my second and third years at law school. I had a fabulous
time, and decided to practice law in New York as a result.”

  “But now you live in Los Angeles,” Annie said.

  “After my marriage to Chris’s mother broke up, there didn’t seem to be much reason to stay on the East Coast,” Bob replied. “Chris was just an infant, and I’ve never been much good with little children. So I packed my bags, studied for the California bar, and moved to LA. It’s a decision I’ve never regretted.”

  “I’ve never been to LA,” Annie said.

  “It’s very different from New York,” Bob said. “The pace is different, and the emphasis is more on outdoor activities. But the weather is glorious, and the beaches are a marvel, and frankly I’d rather ski in the morning, and then go back to seventy-degree weather, than shiver my way through another miserable January day.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Annie said.

  “I like winter,” Chris said. “Of course, that’s one reason why I’m going to school in Boston.”

  “I must admit, there is nothing like autumn in New York, though,” Bob declared. “The crisp October days make you feel as if you can conquer the world. I had forgotten how special October can make you feel.”

  “October’s my favorite month,” Annie confided. “Of course my birthday is in October, so I’m prejudiced.”

  “You have a birthday coming up?” Bob asked.

  “I just had it,” Annie replied. “On Wednesday.”

  “Chris, you should have told me,” Bob said. “I hope you had a lovely time.”

  “I did,” Annie assured him. “Chris gave me this pendant.” She fingered her opal so that Bob could have a better view of it.

  “It’s charming,” Bob said. “So you’re eighteen now.”

  “She’s seventeen,” Chris said. “Just.”

  “You seem so much more mature than that,” Bob said. “More young woman than girl.”

  Annie found Mr. Wainwright charming and suddenly understood why his next-wife-to-be had decided to take the chance to marry him.

  “Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked, and soon they were burying their heads in the menus, trying to decide what to order.

  Everything was very expensive, Annie realized as she checked out the prices. Still, Bob certainly looked as if he could afford to pay for whatever she ordered, so there was no point in ordering the least expensive item on the menu, just to be helpful. She let Chris order first, though, and when she checked out what he’d ordered, she got something roughly the same price. Bob, she noticed, ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, so he obviously didn’t care.