American-girl kind of way, although she wears very little makeup and doesn’t seem to mind that a layer of belly fat is resting gently across the waistband of her too-low low-rise jeans, instead of being safely tucked away inside the waistband of jeans with a slightly higher rise, as would be more flattering.
“Hi,” the woman says to me. “I’m Jill Higgins. I have a nine o’clock appointment with Mr. Pendergast?”
“Of course,” I say, quickly scanning my cheat sheet for Chaz’s dad’s extension. “Have a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thank you,” the woman says with a smile that reveals a lot of healthy-looking white teeth. While she goes to sit down on one of the leather couches, I punch in Mr. Pendergast’s extension.
“Jill Higgins is here for her nine o’clock appointment with Mr. Pendergast,” I say to Esther, Mr. Pendergast’s attractive, fortyish assistant, who’d stopped by to introduce herself upon arriving at work.
“Shit,” Esther says. “He’s not in yet. I’ll be right up.”
I hang up just as Tiffany pokes me in the shoulder.
“Do you know who that is?” she whispers, nodding at the young woman on the couch.
“Yes,” I whisper back. “She told us her name. It’s Jill Higgins.”
“Yeah, but, like, do you know who Jill Higgins is?” Tiffany wants to know.
I shrug. The woman’s face looks familiar, but I’m pretty sure she isn’t a television or movie star, because she’s too normal-size.
“No,” I whisper back.
“She’s only marrying, like, the richest bachelor in New York,” Tiffany hisses. “John MacDowell? His family owns more Manhattan real estate than the Catholic church. And the churchused to own the most of anyone in the city… ”
I swivel my head to look at Jill Higgins with renewed interest.
“The girl who works in the zoo?” I whisper, remembering the Page Six article I read about her. “The one who threw her back out lifting the stranded seal?”
“Exactly,” Tiffany says. “The MacDowell family’s trying to get her to sign a prenup. Basically, they’re trying to make it so she doesn’t see, like, a dime unless she pushes out an heir. But the groom wants to make sure her rights are protected, so he’s hired Pendergast, Loughlin, and Flynn to represent her.”
“Oh!” I am struck by the pathos of this. Jill Higgins looks so nice and normal! How could anyone be so mean as to think she might be a gold digger? “That’s so sweet of him. I mean, John MacDowell, to hire lawyers for her.”
Tiffany grunts. “Yeah, right. He’s probably only doing it so that later on, when things go, like, south, she can’t say she was swindled.”
This seems like a very cynical take on it to me. But then what do I know? This is only my first day. Tiffany’s been working here for two years, the longest any receptionist has stayed with Pendergast, Loughlin, and Flynn so far.
“Did you hear what they call her?” Tiffany whispers.
“Who?”
“The press. What they call Jill?”
I look at her blankly. “Don’t they just call her Jill?”
“No. They’re calling her ‘Blubber.’ Because she works with seals, and she’s got that tummy.”
I frown. “That’s mean!”
“Also,” Tiffany goes on, clearly enjoying herself, “because she cried when one of them asked her if it makes her insecure to know there are so many women out there who are way more attractive than she is, dying to get their hands on her fiancé.”
“That’s horrible!” I glance over at Jill. She looks remarkably calm for someone dealing with all of that. Lord knows how I’d react in the same situation. The press would probably call me Niagara—because I’d never stop crying.
“Miss Higgins!” Esther appears in the lobby, looking trim in a houndstooth skirt suit. “How are you? Won’t you come on back? Mr. Pendergast is running a little late, but I’ve got coffee for you. Cream and sugar, right?”
Jill Higgins smiles and gets up. “That’s right,” she says, following Esther down the hall. “How nice of you to remember!”
After she’s out of earshot, Tiffany snorts and goes back to painting her nails. “You know, that MacDowell guy may be rich and all,” she says. “And yeah, okay, she gets to quit her job throwing fish to those nasty seals. But I wouldn’t marry into that family for less than twenty mil. And she’ll be lucky if she sees a few hundred thousand.”
“Oh,” I say, thinking Tiffany should be an actress and a model, she has so much flair for the dramatic. “They can’t be that bad—”
“Are you kidding?” Tiffany rolls her eyes. “John MacDowell’s mom is such a battle-axe, she isn’t letting that girl plan one single part of her own wedding. Which I guess makes sense, since she’s from Iowa or something, and her dad’s, like, a mailman or something. But still… Blubber doesn’t even get to choose her own wedding gown! They’re making her wear some old monstrosity they’ve had moldering around the mansion for a million years. They say it’s ‘tradition’ that MacDowell brides wear it… but if you ask me, they’re just trying to make her look bad so that John MacDowell has second thoughts and dumps her for some society bitch his mom’s got all picked out for him.”
My ears have perked up at this. Not the part about the society girl John MacDowell’s mom wishes he were marrying instead of Jill, but the other part. “Really? Who is she using as her wedding-gown specialist? Do you know?”
Tiffany blinks at me. “Her what?”
“Her wedding-gown specialist,” I say. “I mean, she has one… right?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” Tiffany says. “What’s a wedding-gown specialist?”
But at that moment the reception area doors open again and a man I recognize as Chaz’s father—basically an older, grayer version of Chaz, only without the turned-around baseball cap—walks in… then stops when he sees me.
“Lizzie?” he asks.
“Hi, Mr. Pendergast,” I say brightly. “How are you today?”
“Well, I’m just great,” Mr. Pendergast says with a smile, “now that I’ve seen you. I’m really happy you’ve joined us here at the firm. Chaz couldn’t seem to say enough good things about you when I spoke to him the other day.”
This is high praise, considering the fact that Chaz, so far as I know, goes out of his way to avoid speaking to his parents whenever possible. The fact that he called them on my behalf is enough to make my eyes fill with tears. He really is the greatest guy in the world. Aside from Luke, of course…
“Thank you so much, Mr. Pendergast,” I say. “I’m so happy to be here. It’s so nice of you to—”
But at that moment the phone chirps.
“Well, duty calls,” Mr. Pendergast says with a twinkle. “See you later.”
“Sure,” I say. “And Miss Higgins is already here… ”
“Great, great,” Mr. Pendergast calls, as he hurries back to his office.
I pick up the phone. “Pendergast, Loughlin, and Flynn,” I say. “How may I direct your call?”
After I send the caller successfully on his way, I hang up and look at Tiffany. “I’m starving,” she says. “Want to order from Burger Heaven downstairs?”
“It’s not even ten,” I point out.
“Whatever, I’m so hungover I could die. I need some grease in my stomach or I’ll york.”
“You know what?” I say to Tiffany. “I really think I’m getting the hang of this. You can leave if you want.”
But Tiffany doesn’t take the hint. “And give up time and a half? No, thanks. I’m getting a double cheeseburger. You want one?”
I sigh… and give in. Because it looks like it’s going to be a long day. And the truth is, I can tell I’m going to need the protein.
