Pug Hill

Table of Contents

 

“If Andy Warhol Had a Girlfriend
is pure, guilt-free pleasure. When you’re not laughing your head off, you’re in the middle of a remarkably honest and heartfelt story about a woman who has to find love inside herself before she can find it outside.”

—Joseph Weisberg, author of
10
^th
Grade

 

“Laugh-out-loud funny.”

—
Booklist

 

“Alison Pace takes us on a whirlwind transcontinental journey (first class, of course) with a lovable main character who, amid the crazy world of abstract art, discovers a little inspiration of her own.”

—Jennifer O’Connell, author of
Bachelorette #1
and
Off the Record

 

“A funny, feel-good fairy tale set improbably in the high-powered international art world.
If Andy Warhol Had a Girlfriend
will give hope to the most relationship-weary heart.”

—Pam Houston, author of Sight Hound

 

“A poignant and very funny look at the dating life of a fictional New York gal.”

—
The Washington Post

 

“This book is GENIUS! I stayed up all night laughing hyena-style.”

—Jill Kargman, coauthor of Wolves in Chic Clothing

 

“A sweet, stylish tale about love, art, travel, and highly pampered dogs.
If Andy Warhol Had a Girlfriend
is a terrific, unique read full of heart and humor. I loved it!”

—Johanna Edwards, author of
Your Big Break

 

“Art lovers, dog lovers—even EX-lovers—will love this fun, funny book.”

—Beth Kendrick, author of
Fashionably Late

 

“A laugh-out-loud look at art fairs, true love, and overindulged miniature schnauzers. A great read!”

—Kristen Buckley, author of
The Parker Grey Show

 

“A fresh and beguiling story set in New York’s art milieu... Perfectly balancing comic missteps with insights, Pace gets Jane’s tricky growth spurt just right.”

 

“A funny, snappy, beauty of a read—I loved it.”

—Sarah Mlynowski, author of
Monkey Business
and
Bras & Broomsticks

 

“Simmers with a quiet brilliance and polish that will stay in a reader’s mind for days.”

—
ChickHtbooks.com

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PUG HILL

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, publisher does not have any control over and does not.assume responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2006 by Alison Pace

Title page photo © Ellen Weinstein

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

BERKLEY is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

The “B” design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

PRINTING HISTORY

Berkley trade paperback edition / May 2006

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-00725-9

 

An application to register this book for cataloging has been submitted to the Library of Congress.

 

 

acknowledgments

This book might never have been started without the enthusiasm of Allison McCabe, and it certainly never would have been finished without the endless encouragement and thoughtful advice offered to me by my agent and friend, Joe Veltre. Tremendous thanks to you both.

Endless appreciation goes to my wonderful, talented, and ever-patient editor, Susan Allison, who made revisions seem like a fun new adventure, and who was so available to me throughout the entire process with her invaluable ideas and insights.

I am very grateful to Jessica Wade, Julia Fleischaker, and everyone at Berkley Books for all their hard work on my behalf; and to Karen Schifano, Grace Shin, Mark Greenberg, Boris Sternberg and Simon Parkes at Simon Parkes Art Conservation for the glimpse into their careers.

For listening to all of my stories and for always making me laugh, special thanks to Cynthia Zabel, Joanna Schwartz, Christine Ciampa, Jennifer Geller, Sarah Melinger, Francis Tucci, Zander Byers, Kerry Dolan, Kimberly Bohner, Peter Bohner, Wendy Tufano, Jessica Good-man, and of course, Crankyface.

And most of all, always, love and thanks to my sister, Joey, who has never once said she’d like to join a commune; to Mom, for being much nicer than Hope’s mom, for instilling in me a great love of dogs, and for reading every last page of my early drafts; and to Dad, for always reminding me to stop and smell the roses, while wearing sunscreen.

prologue

—Kermit the Frog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For Holly Golightly, there was always Tiffany’s. No matter what was going wrong in her life, she always had Tiffany’s. For me, there’s always Pug Hill. For as long as I’ve lived in New York, whenever I’ve wanted to think, or relax, or be happy, or even sad, my destination of choice has been, without fail, Pug Hill.

Pug Hill, if you haven’t heard, is a hill in Central Park, over on the east side around Seventy-fourth Street, where pugs from all over New York City convene. Just as I imagine Holly Golightly was in it much more for the diamonds than for the big building on the corner of Fifty-seventh Street and Fifth Avenue, I’m in it much more for the pugs than for Central Park. It’s not that I don’t like the serenity and tranquility of Central Park as much as the next New Yorker, it’s just that I’ve always had a pretty big thing for dogs.

Dogs have always been a great presence in my life, have always affected it in ways you might call deeply. I simply can’t imagine my life without them. I wonder if it must speak volumes about me that I’ve never had one of my own.

What I do have right now are all the same reasons as all the other people in New York who love dogs but don’t have one: I work too much, I’m not home enough, my apartment is too small, it’s
never
the right time. But one day, and I don’t doubt this at all—or at least, I try not to doubt it—it will be. And of all the dogs there are to love, pugs are, by far, my favorite.

So until that day, when the right time begins, I try to content myself with all the many versions of my favorite, all the endlessly comforting pugs of Pug Hill. I know all the regulars. I know their names and the colors of their harnesses and I know which pugs to expect if I visit on a Saturday or if I visit on a Sunday. Most of the time I’m the only person at Pug Hill without a pug. And that might seem kind of sad, but actually, it’s not. I like to think that, in its own way, it’s kind of hopeful really, if you think about it.

“Conservation,” Elliot says quietly as he picks up the phone, and then, a moment later, “Okay, hold on a sec, please.” I watch Elliot, focusing intently on the flick of his wrist as he hits the hold button and puts down the receiver. I watch Elliot a lot; it’s a problem, it might be a bit stalkerish, this I know.

“Hope,” he says, looking over at me, “it’s your dad.”

I look away, embarrassed, regretful. I tell myself it isn’t my fault. I had, after all, no way of knowing the call was going to be for me. Really, I had no way of knowing that Elliot wasn’t going to look across the room right then, not at me, but at our coworker, Sergei, or at our boss, May—people who the call could have much more likely been for. Nobody calls me at work. People e-mail me, or they instant message me when I turn on the IM during lunch, but they refrain for the most part from calling. It’s generally understood that I don’t like the phone. It causes me anxiety.