The Perfect Mother(57)

“You know what I mean, Nell. It’s what we’ve come to expect, and Gwendolyn Ross knows that. She was raised in the press. Why is she being so silent? What is she hiding?”

“Remember, we’re doing six pages on her,” Clare says gently. “All we’re talking about is the cover.”

“I understand. But are readers even going to get to that story? Wouldn’t it be smarter to stay focused on Midas? It’s time to get some answers. We have a stringer out in Queens, trying to get the nanny to talk. From what I hear, she never even saw a baby. She didn’t go into his room. But that stringer sucks. And this Jolly Mama phenomenon? We could do weeks on that.”

“I think we should rise above it,” Nell says.

He snaps his head toward her. “Rise above it? That’s not our job, Nell. Our job is to create it.”

She knows the argument is futile. “Well, either way, I still agree with Clare about the cover. I’d be more apt to buy the magazine with Kate Glass on it.”

Ian sighs. “Okay, fine. Hope you guys are right. Our numbers are down. The lady upstairs isn’t happy.” He rises from the sill. “Guess we should all get back to work.” He walks toward the door and then stops. “Oh, and jeez. I almost forgot, Nell. The other reason I came to talk to you. We’re sending you away.”

“Away?”

He laughs. “Don’t look so scared. I mean we need you to go on a trip at some point in the next two weeks. Four days. To”—he pauses for effect—“the Bahamas. They’re considering it for the new server facility, and they want you to go. Meet the key players. Part work, part perk. How does that sound?”

“Four days?”

“Yeah. It’s right on the beach.”

“Sounds great,” Nell says, forcing a smile. “I’ll pack my flag.”



Nell reads the same paragraph in the training manual for the fourth time, willing herself to concentrate, but the thought inches back in.

Four days away.

She can’t think about it. Sebastian’s first curated exhibit opens in three weeks. He’s been working late every night and won’t be able to get back to Brooklyn by six when the day care closes. Who will pick up Beatrice? How will Nell pump enough milk for four days? How will she stand to be away from the baby for that long? She pushes away the thought, the trip, her reality (maybe her mom can use a few vacation days, drive down from Rhode Island), and tries to concentrate, but she’s too distracted. She minimizes the pdf.

She’ll quit.

She’ll go down there, right now, to Ian’s office. Wham! she’ll say. At least I lasted two days.

No, she won’t go down there. She’ll go up there, to the eighteenth floor, to see the lady upstairs herself. Adrienne Jacobs, the thirty-five-year-old creative director of the Simon French Corporation, the former fashion blogger, the first woman and youngest person to ever head the ninety-eight-year-old company. The wife of Sebastian’s brother. Nell’s sister-in-law.

Nell can see it. Marching in there, past Adrienne’s assistants, into her windowed office with its pristine white walls, the two white couches, the white rug imported from Turkey that cost more than what Nell earns in a year. Wham!

And then what? They can’t afford their apartment on Sebastian’s salary, or his student loan payments, or the vacation they promised they’d take—their first in four years—over Christmas. For the first time since they began dating, they’re doing well financially. Far better than they ever imagined in London, when Sebastian was studying art and she was attending classes toward her master’s degree while adjunct-teaching a few classes in cybersecurity at a local college. When they used to eat ramen noodles a few times a week, sneak their own popcorn into the movie theater to save the four quid.

And it’s not like she can easily get another job. Not with her employment history, her background, the things she’d have to tell people about herself when applying for a new job.

She’s lucky to have this position. She’s been telling herself this since her first day at the Simon French Corporation eighteen months ago; since even before that, when Sebastian told Nell about the offer that chilly fall morning, when she walked into their London flat after a day of teaching, her arms heavy with groceries.

“You’re joking,” she’d said to him, frozen in place.

“No.” His eyes were bright with excitement. “Adrienne called here herself while you were out. She’s offering you the job. Vice president of technology. In charge of all their online security stuff.”

“Online security stuff? Is that the official description?”

“You can go back to doing what you love.”

“Sebastian, no. She doesn’t have to—”

“This isn’t an act of charity, Nell. Adrienne said it herself. ‘There’s nobody better than Nell.’ She wants you on her team. She said she’ll take care of everything.” He cleared his throat. “And I explained it all to her. That you’re going by Nell now.”

“I can’t work there.”

“Why not?”

“Because their main magazine is Gossip! And I have standards.”

Nell paces her office, remembering the look in Sebastian’s eyes. He’d recently been contacted by MoMA, offered the job he’d been dreaming about, and he was going to turn it down. They couldn’t relocate to New York City on what the museum offered, especially since he and Nell had just started trying for a baby. But could she really say no to him? After everything he’d done for her. Never judging her past mistakes. Accepting her for who she was, and not the person others declared her to be. And plus, this was a chance to move back to the United States. To go home. To be closer to her mom.