Farewell, Dorothy Parker (13 page)

“Morning, Lisa,” she said to the receptionist as she balanced the paper bag on top of the coffee cup so that she had a free hand to grab a magazine and stick it under her arm.

“Andi asked me twice if you were in yet,” the receptionist said.

“Andi? Why?”

“Didn’t say.”

Violet shrugged and continued to her office, where she settled herself in so she could perform her Wednesday morning routine of thumbing through the new issue while having her breakfast.

She ignored the flashing light on her phone, as she knew there would be another message from Barry Beeman about the guest book, and just hearing his voice made her nervous. Sooner or later he would probably call the authorities, and she didn’t even want to think about it.

Easing into her day, Violet opened the wrapping on her bagel and poured her coffee from the paper container into her ceramic mug. The magazine’s cover story was about a TV actress who had made the
crossover to movies and was quickly becoming the darling of romantic comedies.

Early in her career, Violet left an unhappy job to work as an editorial assistant at a local weekly covering events and entertainment in New York City. The pay was low and the offices cramped, but she had the opportunity to move up the ladder pretty quickly, and in less than two years she had a byline and was covering local events. A year later she started reviewing movies, which was a dream come true, as she had a lifelong passion for film. The real world, with its paralyzing social challenges, had been such a struggle for her. But movies were where magic lived and anything was possible. The only thing Violet loved more than losing herself in a book was losing herself in a darkened theater.

So when she got the assignment to review movies, she was ecstatic, especially since it was such a small local publication. The limited circulation felt intimate and familiar, and Violet was relaxed enough to be honest with her opinions. And God knows she had a lot of them just bursting to get out.

Of course, it took a while to find her voice. In the beginning, it was almost like a game, where she could pretend to be Dorothy Parker working at
Vanity Fair
or
The New Yorker
in the early days. But slowly, a metamorphosis took place. Violet went from feeling like she was playing a role in someone else’s hat and shoes to shedding the layers that had been wearing her down. Her inner critic had found an outlet, and it was the most exhilarating experience of her life. In person, she was still as timid as she had ever been. But on paper she was liberated. All those opinions she had been holding in for fear of offending someone had found a release, and it was intoxicating.

Perhaps she wouldn’t have felt so uncensored if she had considered who might be reading her reviews. But it so happened that someone pretty influential was paying close attention. It was Travis Ornstein
at
Enjoy,
the country’s leading entertainment weekly. And when the slot opened up for a second reviewer, he recommended her to the editor. It was an enormous step up for Violet. And though it was a dream job for her, she was so overwhelmed by the idea she almost didn’t take it. Ivy convinced her she would be crazy to pass it up.

“Trust me,” her big sister had said. “You let this opportunity go and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

And that was all it took. The fear of regret outweighed the fear of being read by millions.

That was more than six years ago. And while she still wasn’t the least bit jaded about the job, she no longer opened the magazine and turned straight to her reviews to see her words in print. Now she lingered over the article about the new star, scanned the full-page memorial feature on a movie actor who had recently passed away, and read the gossipy highlights of the week, before thumbing past several ads and reaching the section of the magazine devoted to movie reviews.

Travis’s lead review—the one Andi had tried to cut to shreds—was an appreciative nod to a high-budget action movie, complete with megastar and dazzling CGI effects. In Violet’s opinion, one of the things that made him a great critic was his lack of pretense. He was a true movie lover, and never shunned a film for being lowbrow. Even his most scathing reviews demonstrated his love for the medium. His expectations were high; Travis knew and adored what movies were capable of.

Violet turned to the next page, where her review of
Man Oh Man
was featured. She glanced at the first line and froze.

Abby Collins woke up as Steve Carell.

No, she thought. No, no, no! It can’t be. Andi wouldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t have submitted the altered review that Violet had rejected.

She read on. Dear God, it was true. It was the ghastly, butchered version.

Violet stood, holding on to her desk as she hyperventilated. This wasn’t just unacceptable. This was unfathomable. How could that little smartass have dared to cross the line like this?

But Violet knew. She was being alpha-dogged. Andi did this to her because she thought she could get away with it.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened in Violet’s career. People like Andi always sniffed her out. She was the weakling in the office pack, the one who could be easily taken down.

Violet closed her eyes. Not this time, she thought. Her voice would not be quieted. She was going to stand up for herself. She had to. She had to prove to herself she could do it.

With the rolled-up issue in her hand, she marched across the office to Andi’s desk, which was in a cubicle outside the office of the managing editor, Buck Skelly.

“We need to talk,” Violet said.

Andi didn’t look up from her computer. “I’m a little busy.”

Violet stood there for a moment while the young woman continued to type, her stubby black-painted fingernails quickly tapping away. She was completely unfazed by Violet’s presence.

What would Dorothy Parker do? Violet thought. Certainly, she wouldn’t just stand there waiting for the girl to look up.

“Andi,” she said loudly.

Nothing.

“Ms. Cole,”
Violet said, using the young woman’s last name.

That got her attention, but only for a second.
“I’m busy,”
she repeated, without looking up.

Violet uncurled the magazine and slapped it in front of Andi’s computer screen. “My review,” she said.

Andi folded her arms and sighed. She finally looked up. “What about it?”

“I did not approve these edits.”

“You should be thanking me. That review was for shit.”

Violet took a long, deep breath. “No, your edits were for shit.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

Fury was a powerful generator. Violet felt unstoppable. “And the opinion that counts,” she said, “is mine. You had no right to go behind my back and put this through.”

Andi picked up a paper clip and seemed to be studying it. She smirked and glanced back at Violet. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Excuse me?”

“What…are…you…going…to…do…about…it?” she said slowly, enunciating each word as if she were talking to an imbecile.

Violet choked. This wasn’t the reaction she was expecting. She thought that once she stood up to Andi the girl would be contrite. Her plan was to make the girl suffer a bit while she waited for Violet’s forgiveness, which she would give only after Andi promised never to let it happen again.

But this? This was shocking. Andi was out for blood. Violet had to take it all the way or be defeated. She tried to summon the fury-fueled strength she had started with, but it was as if all her resources had been siphoned.

As Violet struggled to find her voice, she became aware of how quiet the office had become. People were listening from behind their cubicles. Everyone wanted to know how this would play out.

Violet closed her eyes for a moment, composing an answer to Andi’s question. She formed a perfect response. The
only
response. But would she be able to get it out?

She took a deep breath and replayed Andi’s challenge in her head:
What are you going to do about it?

Violet looked straight into the young woman’s kohl-lined eyes. “I’m going to get you fired,” she said.

Without waiting for Andi’s reply, Violet turned and walked away, heading straight for Buck Skelly’s office. Her hands were still trembling, but she was as proud as she had ever been. Best of all, she was able to compose another perfect line of dialogue:
Delaney, I did it.

Chapter 14

“A laudatory first step,” said Dorothy Parker. “Congratulations, Ms. Epps. I think this calls for a toast.”

Violet laughed. “You think everything calls for a toast.”

“Nevertheless,” her friend said, holding up her glass. “Cheers.” She took a long sip. “So what happened when you spoke to the boss? Did he kick the little shit to the curb?”

“Not yet. He said he could either fire her right away or put her on probation, under whatever terms I dictate. I told him I’d consider it.”

“Probation. That has a certain music to it. We’ll come up with a set of demands to teach the child a lesson. Good for her, and good for you. Submission and dominance. Get something to write with.”

Violet retrieved the laptop from the desk and rested it on her knees.

“I suppose pencil and paper have gone out of style,” Mrs. Parker said. “Do they even bother teaching penmanship in school?”

“Not with the same emphasis. And we call it
script.
The word
penmanship
sounds almost romantically old-fashioned.”

“God help me,” Mrs. Parker said. “I’ve skipped right over obsolete and gone straight to
quaint.
” She sighed. “Let’s get started. Number one, your young lady will bring you coffee every morning that you are in the office.”

Violet looked pained. “Oh, I don’t know if Buck will even go for that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s considered…demeaning.”

“My dear, the whole
object
is to demean her.”

“Okay, coffee,” Violet said, tapping her keyboard. “What else?”

“I know you people all use first names now in business, but she will call you Ms. Epps. And you will call her Andi.”

Violet grinned. “I have to admit I like that.”

“Of course you do. It puts you in the powerful position. And I think you’ll find that power is exactly as intoxicating as they say. We may make a monster out of you yet. Now, let’s see. Who opens your mail?”

“You mean actual letters? I don’t get many of those. Almost everything is electronic.”

“Pity,” Mrs. Parker said. “How about filing?”

“Filing?”

“Surely, you have some papers to file.”

“Again, not very much.”

“Is there anything you can find for her to do on a daily basis?”

“I suppose I could have her respond to some of my less important e-mails. Maybe do some Internet research for me on filmographies.”

“That will work. And when she answers your e-mails, she will list her title as ‘secretary to Violet Epps.’ ”

Violet tapped that into her computer. “That’s good, only I’m changing it to ‘assistant.’ We don’t use the word
secretary
anymore.”

“Why not?”

Violet shrugged. “I guess someone decided it was too degrading.”

“For heaven’s sake. Why don’t they just call everyone ‘vice president’? No work will get done, but everybody will just feel so damned important. No wonder a new employee acts insubordinate. Young people aren’t taught their place.”

“Like you, Benchley, and Sherwood at
Vanity Fair
?” Violet said, remembering what she read about the behavior of the young trio. Their boss didn’t know what to do with them.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Parker said. “I almost feel dressed down.”

Violet felt close to panic. The last thing she wanted to do was alienate her mentor. “I…I didn’t mean it that way,” she said.

“Don’t apologize. It was an apt observation. We behaved very badly.”

Violet sighed, relieved. She made a mental note to try to remember that Dorothy Parker wasn’t easily offended.

And yes, Mrs. Parker and her friends
had
behaved badly. Violet remembered reading about the practical joke the famous wit liked to play on a pompous
Vanity Fair
editor who, during the Great War, followed the position of the American Army in France by pinning little flags to a large map on the wall. Before he came in to work, Mrs. Parker liked to rearrange the flags to show the kaiser winning.

“You were mischievous,” Violet said.

“Maybe even obnoxious,” her guest agreed. “But our motivation was quite different from that of your young nemesis. We were fun, coltish, pushing the boundaries of taste, humor, and, God help us, creativity. It’s what young people do. And though you describe your Andi as edgy, she is anything but. She is smug and punctilious, trying to rein in her older colleagues. Insubordination in the form of priggishness is simply
intolerable.
”

Violet smiled. She loved that Dorothy Parker was so heated about Andi’s misbehavior, and so clear on the difference between the girl’s conduct and the defiance that had gotten the famous wit fired from
Vanity Fair.