“Faye, can you come see me in my office?”
“Of course.” Faye hung up the phone and smiled. Her door was adjacent to Bev’s, within earshot, but Bev liked to keep things formal.
Taking her bag with her just in case there would still be time for lunch, Faye rounded the corner past the cloth-covered walls of the cubicles and found the door to her boss’s office ajar. Knocking lightly, she made eye contact with Bev, who stood up from her desk chair and waved Faye inside.
“Everything okay?” Faye asked, taking a seat in one of the two chairs facing Bev’s desk. The room was tastefully decorated in muted neutral tones and covers from the magazine’s bestselling issues adorned the walls. When Faye looked just past her boss’s head, she could see the sun streaming across the midtown skyscrapers that surrounded them.
“Oh, yes,” Bev said, sitting down and leaning across her desk. She was about twenty years Faye’s senior, in her early fifties, with professionally blown-out long brown hair and hard-earned physique which she attributed to good genes and Pilates. “I have an exciting assignment for you.”
Faye instinctively perked up and sat up a little straighter in her chair. Her first thought was the rumored opening of a new restaurant by a Top Chef contestant. For that, she would definitely forgo a night of peanut butter sandwiches.
“I have two words for you,” her bespectacled boss said enticingly. “Gregor Wright.”
Faye watched as Bev sat back in her chair and waited for her reaction. Of course she knew Gregor Wright. He was famous. In fact, she and David had spent many nights watching his cable show, Globe-Trotting with Gregor, where he visited different travel destinations, eating and drinking his way through under-the-radar hotspots. And although she never said it in front of David, Faye had a major crush on the tall and slender Gregor, always in his signature leather bomber jacket. The combination of his British accent and the facial hair that she could so easily imagine grazing against her lady parts was enough fodder for many a solo session with the handheld showerhead in her steamy bathroom.
“Yes, I know him,” Faye said with a nervous cough.
Bev sighed. “I know you know him. How would you like to meet him?”
“No!” Faye said adamantly and then quickly changed to a more measured tone. “I mean, it sounds interesting...” She saw Bev raise an eyebrow at her from behind her glasses, but she didn’t care. The last thing she needed was to spend an afternoon interviewing a womanizer. An arrogant, sexy, intelligent famous person who could probably get most women to drop their panties by simply uttering their name in that crisp English voice of his.
“None of the other magazines have it,” Bev said. “This could be major for you.”
Faye twisted her long, platinum blond hair over her shoulder and smiled nervously at her boss. “I appreciate that, really, I do.”
“I need you for this, Faye,” Bev said insistently. “You’re my best writer. And I know it’s not my place to say, but maybe traveling for a few days would do you good.”
Faye opened her mouth to protest her boss’s gentle suggestion but instead her mouth hung agape. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Of course, the assignment was incredible. And she did deserve it. But she had heard the rumors about the women who encountered Gregor. It wasn’t so much that he was persistent, but more that women were drawn to his aura. Getting caught up in a fantasy was just something she didn’t need right now.
“Did you say days—as in, multiple days?”
Bev returned Faye’s nonplussed expression with a knowing smirk. “A week, actually. In London.”
Faye exhaled deeply and turned her gaze toward the windows. The sun was shining bright for what felt like the first time in weeks. It had been a long, cold New York City winter and today, for the first time, people were walking around without jackets. Spring was in the air.
But where was she? Still in emotional limbo over a guy who was long gone. And punishing herself with her bland diet and her austere lifestyle. Even her outfit was joyless. She looked down at her black trousers and pilled sweater and could just hear her mother saying how she was “hiding her beauty.” But what if she wasn’t ready for anyone to see it again? Maybe she would never be ready.
“What about Lindsay?”
Bev snorted.
“She’s a good writer!”
“She’s fine. But I don’t want someone ‘fine,’ I want you.” Bev reached into her desk and produced a file folder which she tossed across the desk to Faye. “Everything you need to know is in there. Your flight leaves out of JFK first thing tomorrow morning.”
* * *
Later that night in her apartment, Faye sat on the living room couch. Even though she had kept almost everything when David had moved out, the place still felt weirdly empty without him there. There were some things she liked about living alone—for one, she could watch any of her “girlie” shows without snark or criticism. And now things were decorated the way she preferred—before she hadn’t been able to display all of the framed pictures of her many travels with her girlfriends after college. Come to think of it, she hadn’t traveled much in recent years as David was more of a homebody. Maybe the adventure would be a good thing, she told herself.
Her suitcase, which she had gotten out of storage in her building’s basement after work, was in the middle of the room and she had multiple items of clothing piled on the bed. Faye stared off into space, lost in a reverie featuring Gregor from the episode of his show where he went stand-up paddle boarding in Turks and Caicos. She easily remembered how his lean, tanned body looked against the vibrant blue waters. He had worn a bike-shorts-length Speedo, but instead of looking ridiculous, as most men did in that skintight suit, he managed to pull it off and give his female viewership something very substantial to occupy their thoughts after the episode ended.
Angry at herself for letting her thoughts get away from her, she picked up the phone and called her sister, Eden, who was always her “in case of emergency” person.
“Hey,” Eden answered right away, her voice sounding a little harried and tired, as per usual. She was three years older than Faye, and a married mom of three. Right now, she was probably in the middle of serving dinner to her army of boys.
“What do we think about Gregor Wright?” Faye asked her sister tentatively. Ever since they were kids, Eden was the barometer of cool for Faye. If she said anything negative, the trip would be off.
“Ooh, the hot guy from the Travel Channel?”