pumped.
She was in no shape for this meeting, but when she remembered the woman's voice, the urgency, the it's about your father, I just want your side of the story, she knew she had to keep it.
The diner was just a few blocks from her apartment. She went there almost every morning, and it had been her suggestion to meet there. On weekdays she ordered a cappuccino to go, and the owner was always kind. On weekends she would treat herself to chocolate chip pancakes, then go straight to the gym to work off the calories.
They wouldn't miss her at the office today. She'd called in sick. They didn't much care whether she came in or not, as long as her last name was still Loverne.
Mya walked up to the diner and opened the door. She welcomed the smell of frying bacon, sugary syrup and fresh eggs, felt like ordering all of them to get rid of the awful taste in her mouth. A bottomless cup of coffee would go a long way. She had a vague idea of who she was looking for. Then she saw a woman in the corner waving her hand. The woman mouthed Mya?
Mya nodded, walked over and slid into the booth. The woman extended a hand with perfectly manicured nails, and said, 'Mya Loverne?'
Mya nodded.
'Paulina Cole. It's such a pleasure to meet you. Henry used to talk about you all the time back at the Gazette. ' Paulina looked her over. It made Mya uncomfortable.
Paulina Cole wore a tailored pantsuit. Her jewelry was fine but not ostentatious. She wore her hair tied back in a ponytail, a thin string of pearls around her neck. A tape recorder sat on the table next to two steaming cups of coffee. There was a smile on Paulina's face, like a friendly aunt pleased to see how well her niece is doing.
'You're much more elegant in person. I've only seen your picture in the society pages.'
'The lighting always sucks,' Mya said. 'And the dresses make me feel like I can't breathe.'
'Coming from a well-known family is as much a curse as it is a gift,' Paulina said. 'You know, it's a real shame that
Henry is too stubborn to see what he's lost.'
Mya didn't know whether to smile or throw a cup of coffee in Paulina's face.
'Please don't patronize me.'
Paulina sat back, held up her hands. 'I understand. But I can't apologize for saying it. Listen,' she said, leaning forward again. 'I'm embarrassed to say that we both know how stories in the news take on a life of their own. From what
I gather, the last year has been hard for you.'
'What do you know about it?'
'Well, after you were involved in Henry's altercation, '
Paulina said, as though they'd been in a fender-bender, 'your career doesn't seem to have taken off the way you expected.'
'What do you care about my career?'
'I shouldn't,' Paulina said. 'But the truth is we both know how hard it is for strong women to make it in corporate America. Add to that the pressure of being a Loverne. Whether it's law or journalism, it's still about who can claw the hardest and deepest. Cornell, then law school at Columbia, you have a pretty terrific pedigree. I imagine neither were easy to achieve.'
'Easy is what you make of it. Some kids can study eight hours a night and still blow the bar. Some can soak it up while spending three years sucking down beers five nights a week.'
'And which were you?' Paulina asked.
Mya shifted in her seat. 'I don't really know. I think I used to be the former. Now…I don't know.'
'Mya,' Paulina said, her voice growing soft. 'You know why I asked you here, right?'
'Not exactly,' she said. 'You said something about my father. What does he have to do with anything?'
Paulina sighed. 'I'm going to be straight with you. I'm writing an article on your father's campaign. Well, more specifically…his life. I think you can get where I'm going with this.'
'No. Enlighten me.'
'You're not blind,' Paulina said, 'and clearly not stupid. You must have heard the rumors. Or seen it with your own eyes.'
'Seen what?' Mya said.
'The other women.'
Mya nearly choked.
'You're writing an article about my father seeing other women? Are you fucking kidding me?'
Paulina offered her hands. 'It's more than that,' she said.
'Your father is an important man. Important people need to gain the trust of their constituents. It's my job, it's what I'm paid for, to make sure people know the full story.'
'Jesus,' Mya whispered.
'It's going to be in the newspapers,' Paulina said. 'I have nothing against you or your father. I just want to know the truth. It doesn't need to be painful. If you just tell me what you know, the innuendos are kept out of it. The truth is all I want.'
'I can't believe he's so stupid,' Mya said, feeling her cheeks grow warm.
'Your father?' Mya nodded. 'So you knew.'
'Yes,' Mya said, her voice barely a sound.
'Do you know who?' Mya shook her head. 'Or how many?' Again.
'I don't know anything else, please, just leave it alone.'
'Mya,' Paulina said, 'I honestly can't imagine how hard this is for you. Have you been able to talk to anyone else about it?' Mya stared into her coffee. 'What about Henry?'
Mya looked at her, stared into Paulina's eyes. Then shook her head.
'We don't talk anymore. At least he doesn't talk to me.' Mya took a sip of her coffee, holding the mug in both hands. She let the warmth travel down her hands. She put it down, added some more sugar. 'I'm not sure what else you want to know.'
'Why doesn't Henry want to talk to you? Weren't you two close?'
'Were,' Mya said.
'What happened?'
'It ended. Relationships do.'
'You didn't want to stay friends?'
' I did,' Mya said. Paulina leaned closer. Mya could smell her perfume. It smelled good, not too strong.
'The truth is, Mya, Henry is in an incredibly important position right now. I fear that the brain trust at the Gazette, that would be Harvey Hillerman and Wallace Langston, have placed too much pressure on Henry. Since the scandals last year, there haven't been many young reporters given access to the kind of stories he's had. Did you know he's covering
Athena Paradis's murder?'
'I read his stories,' Mya said.
'So much pressure though,' Paulina said, as though the weight of the world was pressing on her shoulders. 'If you're not up to the job, in our profession there are catastrophic consequences.'
Mya sipped her coffee, said nothing. Paulina offered a warm smile.
'My ex was addicted to coffee,' she said. 'If he didn't drink a minimum of six cups a day, he'd throw furniture around our apartment like he was shooting rubber bands. I think I spent as much money staying in hotels to get away from him as I did paying our mortgage.'
'Really?'
'God, yes. If you're ever in an abusive relationship, please take it from someone who's made too many mistakes in the love department, get your ass out of that place quick and don't ever look back.'
They both laughed. Mya looked at Paulina. Her smile seemed so genuine, like she wasn't simply a reporter, but someone who truly cared. Mya thought about her friends, the ones who said they'd always be there for her. The ones who never called, never checked up, always assumed her tears came from happiness. Never stopping to think that she had nothing to be happy about. And hadn't for a long time.
