through her hair on the way down her apartment stairs and dash on mascara and a little lipstick during her bus ride from her East Village apartment. âShe wants everyone there?â she asked.
âBig news,â Lizbeth warned. âI think bad news, too, from the look on Charlotteâs face. Sheâs wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday afternoon, her hair is a mess and sheâs got raccoon eyes from her mascara. I donât think Iâve ever seen Charlotte looking like a roadside rodent. Maybe Daddy Danforth has finally cut the purse strings.â
Ninaâs heart twisted in her chest. If the magazine was having financial problems then the first jobs to be cut would be editorial assistants. Her current position as fact checker was safe as long as Attitudes was still publishing. But her future as an assistant editor with the magazine suddenly looked bleak. âAre you sure she wants me there? Iâm never invited to staff meetings.â
âShe specifically asked that you come,â Lizbeth said.
Nina jumped to her feet, hope springing to life inside her. âDid she ask for me by name?â
âYes,â Lizbeth said. âShe walked in my office, told me about the meeting and requested that I be sure to tell Tina.â
Nina rolled her eyes and cursed softly. âIs my name that hard to remember? Iâve worked for Charlotte for nearly three years! She sees me at least four or five times a week.â She looked down at the bottle-green satin Chinese jacket and flowered skirt she wore. âI donât look like I blend into the furniture, do I?â
Lizbeth considered Ninaâs skirt for a few seconds and put on her best Southern drawl. âMy mama did have some dining room portieres that looked a lot like your skirt.â
Nina strode to the door, pinching Lizbethâs arm as she passed. âYouâre so mean to me. I donât know why youâre still my friend.â
Lizbeth fell into step beside her as they strolled toward the conference room. âBecause Iâm the only one who really appreciates you,â she said with a lazy smile. âAnd your whimsical fashion sense.â She gave her the once-over with her critical fashion eye. âAll right, I love the jacket. There, are you happy?â
One thing Nina was happy about was that Lizbeth had forgotten the events of the night before. The last thing she needed was her best friend chiding her about the mistakes sheâd made. Lizbeth just didnât understand. Sheâd always had boys fawning over her and men falling at her feet. Nina had discovered boys a little later in life, so sheâd been playing catch-up since she was eighteen. She sighed softly, glancing at Lizbeth. No matter how long she worked at it, sheâd never catch up to Lizbeth.
By the time they reached the conference room, all the chairs had been taken by senior staff. Lizbeth and Nina stood against the back wall and watched as Charlotte called the meeting to order. Nina couldnât recall ever attending a staff meeting before. Charlotte preferred to deal with her one-on-one and important news was usually passed on to Nina through office gossip, haphazard memos, or not at all.
âWe have a problem,â Charlotte began. âA huge problem. Iâve called you all in here because, frankly, I donât know what to do.â To Ninaâs surprise, the normally icy Charlotte looked like she was about to cry. âI canât go to Daddy, so Iâm asking all of you for your help.â She sniffed. âI know I havenât always been the nicest boss, but I canât change that now.â Her voice trembled slightly. âYesterday evening I had a visit from a representative of NightRyder, some Internet company with truckloads of cash. They offered to buy the magazine.â
A collective gasp sounded in the silence of the conference room, followed by a low murmur of whispered comments. Lizbeth turned to look at Nina, her eyes wide.
Charlotte ran her fingers through her mussed hair and Nina noticed the shadows beneath her bossâs eyes. She had been crying. âDonât worry, the offer wasnât good enough to accept. But the next one might be. And as you all know, this magazine has always operated on aâ¦tight budget. And now that DaddyâI mean, now that my investors have decided to curtail their rather generous funding, the magazine is more vulnerable than ever. We have to tighten our belt, be more efficient andâand do all those other things you people do when we need to save money. Iâm sure you know what they are.â
âLike cutting back on expensive business lunches at the cityâs best restaurants?â Lizbeth murmured. âAnd throwing lavish parties for male models then writing them off against our photo budgets?â
âShhh!â Nina hissed.
âLena, where are you?â Charlotte demanded. Her gaze searched the room, but no one spoke up. The rest of the employees glanced nervously back and forth. âWell, where is my head of research? Lizbeth, I told you to bring her along. Where is Lena?â
Suddenly Nina realized that Charlotte was talking to her. She raised her hand nervously. âIâm here,â she said. âTina, IâI mean, Nina. Nina Forrester.â She groaned inwardly and bit back a curse. Now she couldnât even remember her own name!
âTina, I want you to find out everything you can about this NightRyder company. Itâs owned by someone named Cameron Ryder. Call whoever you call and get me something, anything, on this man. I need to know everything I can about the enemy before I face him again. Oh, and find out if heâs married.â She glanced around the room. âAs for the rest of you, no more spending. Cultivate new vendors who will extend us credit. Sell more ad pages. And thereâll be no more free beverages in the coffee room!â
With that, she swept out of the room, leaving her staff to wonder whether they might be better off with Cameron Ryder at the helm of Attitudes. Nina and Lizbeth hurried out in front of the crowd, anxious to regain the privacy of Ninaâs office. When they closed the door behind them, they both gasped and gaped at each other.
âI suppose we ought to start revising our résumés,â Nina said.
âYou donât actually think Charlotte will sell to this NightRyder guy, do you?â
Nina shook her head. âSheâs not much of a business-woman and the magazine has always struggled. But then, maybe this Ryder isnât much of a businessman.â She reached for her computer keyboard, then looked at the screen. The moment sheâd walked in that morning, sheâd typed up her two adsâthe âcoffee collisionâ ad for Mr. Right and the âAdonisâ ad for Mr. Right Now, still torn between which one to place.
As she stared at the screen, Ninaâs mind again wandered back to her encounter with âCoffee Man.â How many times had she brushed him from her thoughts, trying to convince herself there was probably something seriously wrong with him? Maybe he picked his teeth or burped after dinner. Maybe he hated modern art or detested the theater. He could have all sorts of disgusting flaws. Like all the other men sheâd met, sheâd probably have dropped him sooner or later, so what was the point even wasting brain cells on him?
A soft moan slipped from her lips. But he was incredibly intriguing. She suspected he had a body to match that gorgeous face, hidden beneath his staid attire. And though she usually didnât go for the suit-and-tie type, he wouldnât always be wearing clothes. A delicious shiver skittered up her spine and she couldnât
