Read Online Mr. Love: A Romantic Comedy by Sally Mason - Free Book Online Page A

landed.”
    Jane takes a chair opposite him.
    Jonas says, “What’s she like, this Mindy?”
    “Bitsy.”
    “Bitsy! Okay, first order of business, that name has to go. What’s it short for, anyway?”
    “Elizabeth, I believe.”
    “Elizabeth Rushworth. Mnnnn, that’s a little staid. How about Liz? Liz Rushworth? A bit racier, what do you say?”
    “Yes, but it’s a little, well, unfriendly isn’t it?”
    “You think so? Unfriendly?”
    “A bit intimidating. The name of an investigative reporter or a scientist.”
    “Then what would you suggest?”
    “How about Lizzie?”
    “Lizzie Rushworth,” Jonas says, closing his eyes, repeating the name as if he’s tasting a vintage wine. He blinks and says, “I love it! It’s peppy and saucy, but a name that gets you smiling as you say it. Perfect.”
    “Good.”
    “What does she look like?”
    “Well . . .”
    “Don’t doll it up, Janey, just give it to me straight.”
    “She’s around forty. Short and skinny, with mousy hair going gray. When I met her she was dressed by Costco: a shapeless sweater, badly fitting jeans and no-name sneakers.”
    Jonas shudders.
    “God, how awful. Is she redeemable?”
    Jane nods.
    “Yes, I think so. But she’ll need a serious makeover, top to toe. And a new wardrobe.”
    “When is she arriving?”
    “Her train gets into Penn Station around 6:30 this evening.”
    “Okay, tell her to go directly to The Pierre, I’ve reserved a suite. Then spend the day with her tomorrow getting her transformed. I’ll schedule the media for the following day.”
    He sees her expression.
    “Darling, I know you landed her and you’ll be there every step of the way, but this is too big for you to fly solo. You just let me do what I do, okay?”
    “Of course, Jonas, I understand.”
    He flashes her a blinding smile and bounds to his feet.
    “Exciting, exciting. When we take this book out to auction there’s going to be a frenzy of note.”
    “Just one thing,” Jane says.
    “Mnnnn?”
    “Bitsy — Lizzie— has a brother. Gordon. He’s going to be traveling with her, as a kind of chaperone-cum-advisor.”
    “Fine, get him a room at The Pierre. Nothing too fancy.”
    “ The thing is, Gordon is also a writer and Lizzie only signed with us on the understanding that whoever publishes Ivy publishes his book as well.”
    Jonas frowns.
    “You agreed to this extortion?”
    “I’m sorry, what option did I have?’
    “Understood, understood. Have you read his book?”
    “The first few chapters.”
    “And?”
    “It’s terrible. He’s striving for David Foster Wallace by way of Jonathan Franzen and falls horribly short.”
    Jonas makes a dismissive gesture.
    “No worries, leave it to me. Whoever gets Ivy will gladly do a limited release of his abortion. What’s a couple of thousand copies going to cost them? They’ll never even let them out of their warehouse.”
    He’s heading for the door.
    “Oh, I almost forgot. I had a word with a very nice new lady editor at Exeter Press this morning. She’s just dying for you to send that bleeding heart memoir of yours over. That doctors in distress thing.”
    Jonas winks at her and is gone, leaving Jane with her head spinning as she sits behind her new desk, staring out over Manhattan.
    Can things keep on going so well?
    No, she fears.
    And right on cue her cell phone bings and she sees a text from Tom, who she has done her best to keep out of her thoughts on this day of success.
    The message is to the point: Die bitch .
    Jane shoves her phone away and looks out over the city she has come to love.
    Is it just the Tom debacle causing her anxiety?
    No, she fears, it is not.
    And the gnawing certainty that she is conspiring with Gordon Rushworth, that his sister is just his beard, takes some of the shine off the day.

17
     
     
     
     
    Gordon sits watching the industrial parks that litter the outskirts of New York City blur by in the failing light, lulled almost to sleep by the motion of