Read Online All We Ever Wanted Was Everything by Janelle Brown - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janelle Brown
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anything else.
“Oh, very soon,” she says vaguely.
Josephine smiles widely and grips Margaret’s forearm with a broad hand. “That’s so great, ” she says. “We are so proud of you, you know? You did it! With your little magazine!”
And although Margaret winces at the word “little,” she can’t help but grin back, too caught up in Josephine’s enthusiasm to feel guilty about lying to her friend yet again. For just a moment, her successes—imagined or not—are equivalent to those of her glamorous peers. She is in the race again. Yes, she thinks, I will revive Snatch. I will make it work. She looks around at her smiling, encouraging friends and thinks, This is going to be okay.
“A toast!” squeaks Claire, lifting her champagne glass. “To Margaret, the magazine mogul!”
“Yay, Margaret!” echoes Alexis.
Margaret smiles shyly, letting the alcohol flush her cheeks. She is lifted too high by all the champagne bubbles and the warm and fuzzy cheer to worry about the phone calls or about Stuart or about her debt to her ex-boyfriend or even about Snatch anymore; and she is also too high to panic when the bill finally arrives and is an astonishing $912.
Alexis yanks the bill away from Josephine’s groping hand. “Our treat,” she says. She points a finger at Josephine and orders: “Plug your ears.” Josephine sighs, compliantly cupping her hands over her ears, and hums to herself to block out their conversation.
“Okay, so that’s $304 each, not including tip, which makes it more like $350 each,” says Alexis, digging into her purse. “Not as bad as I thought, actually.” For just a moment, Margaret feels as if an elevator inside her has lost control and plummeted into her intestines. They’re splitting? But she didn’t even taste the lobster! She sacrificed her entrée! She quickly steadies herself and puts her game face back on. No, it’s fine, she thinks, letting the bubbles lift her up again. It’s just money. She reaches for her wallet, wondering if somehow an extra $50 will have materialized in its folds during the course of her meal.
Claire leans in toward Alexis and whispers, “But Margaret only had a salad…”
“Right,” says Alexis. “Okay, then, you and I will cover, let’s say, $375 each, and Margaret can chip in $275.” She looks at Margaret and raises an eyebrow. “Fair?”
“Absolutely,” Margaret replies, hanging tenuously on to her equanimity. “It’s Josephine’s birthday.” She pulls out the wallet and extracts the three hundred-dollar bills, fanning them out. She lays them down on the table with a slap and discovers that this actually feels rather good. There is power that comes with just flinging away $300 like that, she thinks—a comfort in the bravado of a splurge. Now she can see why her friends like coming to places like this, and she feels herself an equal to them. This feels so great that when Claire reaches into her purse to get Margaret $25 in change, Margaret even waves her off.
But deep in her purse, the cell phone has started ringing again.
For a brief second, Margaret is able to hang on to her high spirits and believe, optimistically, that this call might finally be a good one, the one she’s been superstitiously waiting for, the mystery phone call that will somehow turn everything around. She sits there, frozen with indecision, torn between hoping and knowing better, between answering it and pretending that the cell phone so rudely ringing at dinner isn’t hers all.
Josephine has taken her hand away from her ears and is pointing at Margaret’s purse. “Whose phone keeps ringing?” she says. “Margaret—I think that’s yours.”
Alexis and Claire turn to stare at her, too. Margaret looks down at her purse as if she has never seen it before—but now, even without reaching in, she can see the cell phone’s illuminated display, blinking, RESTRICTED NO.— and freezes. The champagne bubbles rapidly pop, one by one, bringing her
“Oh, very soon,” she says vaguely.
Josephine smiles widely and grips Margaret’s forearm with a broad hand. “That’s so great, ” she says. “We are so proud of you, you know? You did it! With your little magazine!”
And although Margaret winces at the word “little,” she can’t help but grin back, too caught up in Josephine’s enthusiasm to feel guilty about lying to her friend yet again. For just a moment, her successes—imagined or not—are equivalent to those of her glamorous peers. She is in the race again. Yes, she thinks, I will revive Snatch. I will make it work. She looks around at her smiling, encouraging friends and thinks, This is going to be okay.
“A toast!” squeaks Claire, lifting her champagne glass. “To Margaret, the magazine mogul!”
“Yay, Margaret!” echoes Alexis.
Margaret smiles shyly, letting the alcohol flush her cheeks. She is lifted too high by all the champagne bubbles and the warm and fuzzy cheer to worry about the phone calls or about Stuart or about her debt to her ex-boyfriend or even about Snatch anymore; and she is also too high to panic when the bill finally arrives and is an astonishing $912.
Alexis yanks the bill away from Josephine’s groping hand. “Our treat,” she says. She points a finger at Josephine and orders: “Plug your ears.” Josephine sighs, compliantly cupping her hands over her ears, and hums to herself to block out their conversation.
“Okay, so that’s $304 each, not including tip, which makes it more like $350 each,” says Alexis, digging into her purse. “Not as bad as I thought, actually.” For just a moment, Margaret feels as if an elevator inside her has lost control and plummeted into her intestines. They’re splitting? But she didn’t even taste the lobster! She sacrificed her entrée! She quickly steadies herself and puts her game face back on. No, it’s fine, she thinks, letting the bubbles lift her up again. It’s just money. She reaches for her wallet, wondering if somehow an extra $50 will have materialized in its folds during the course of her meal.
Claire leans in toward Alexis and whispers, “But Margaret only had a salad…”
“Right,” says Alexis. “Okay, then, you and I will cover, let’s say, $375 each, and Margaret can chip in $275.” She looks at Margaret and raises an eyebrow. “Fair?”
“Absolutely,” Margaret replies, hanging tenuously on to her equanimity. “It’s Josephine’s birthday.” She pulls out the wallet and extracts the three hundred-dollar bills, fanning them out. She lays them down on the table with a slap and discovers that this actually feels rather good. There is power that comes with just flinging away $300 like that, she thinks—a comfort in the bravado of a splurge. Now she can see why her friends like coming to places like this, and she feels herself an equal to them. This feels so great that when Claire reaches into her purse to get Margaret $25 in change, Margaret even waves her off.
But deep in her purse, the cell phone has started ringing again.
For a brief second, Margaret is able to hang on to her high spirits and believe, optimistically, that this call might finally be a good one, the one she’s been superstitiously waiting for, the mystery phone call that will somehow turn everything around. She sits there, frozen with indecision, torn between hoping and knowing better, between answering it and pretending that the cell phone so rudely ringing at dinner isn’t hers all.
Josephine has taken her hand away from her ears and is pointing at Margaret’s purse. “Whose phone keeps ringing?” she says. “Margaret—I think that’s yours.”
Alexis and Claire turn to stare at her, too. Margaret looks down at her purse as if she has never seen it before—but now, even without reaching in, she can see the cell phone’s illuminated display, blinking, RESTRICTED NO.— and freezes. The champagne bubbles rapidly pop, one by one, bringing her
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