Will You Won't You Want Me?: A Novel Read Free

our intern, Herb: banana, peanut butter, pork belly. I was continuing a joke from earlier about how the press release should promote bulimia as the diet plan, since the smell makes you want to barf…”
    “Funny.” Vera did not smile.
    “I could have sworn … but whatever … I guess I clicked Reply. The e-mail went to Snow’s CEO. Turns out, he wasn’t amused.”
    “Oh, God.” Vera covered her face with her hands. “Did Brianne throw a mug at you again?”
    Marjorie shook her head. “She’s off coffee at the moment.”
    The notorious Brianne Bacht-Chit had encountered Marjorie in the early aughts at the opening of one of many white-on-white-wallpapered restaurants with mismatched “Mad Hatter” chairs and industrial sconces. Figuring that the adorable, even recognizable, twenty-something might lend joie to her firm, Brianne offered Marjorie a part-time “consulting” job, then began resenting and punishing her for the same reasons she was hired. Brianne was a little abusive and then a lot, and finally, for twisted reasons neither could fathom, she hired Marjorie full-time.
    Marjorie sighed. “Instead, she got creepy quiet, then said, ‘When I met you, you seemed like someone. I was wrong. Consider yourself on probation. You’re welcome.’ Wow. I was able to repeat that verbatim. Is that a marketable skill?”
    “Madge. For the eight hundredth time: You need to quit. You’re self-sabotaging.”
    “Too bad about that pesky rent.”
    “You’ll find the money somewhere.”
    “Easy for you to say.”
    Vera’s mouth dropped open. “What’s that supposed to mean? I work my ass off for what I have.” Her face contorted and her voice rose, as her rage escalated. “You sit around feeling sorry for yourself, making careless mistakes. No one hired me because I was cute at a cocktail party. If they had, I guarantee I wouldn’t have squandered the opportunity. If you’re unhappy, make changes! Or stop talking about it!”
    Marjorie swore she felt plates shifting below her feet then, as if the world was turning upside down and she was powerless to stop it. It was a day for pots boiling over, for straws breaking camels’ backs. Amoebic spots squirmed before her eyes; she didn’t dare glance at the table of high school boys. “Whoa, Vee. I meant it was easy for you because you’re so together. I envy that in you.”
    Vera opened her mouth, then closed it again, twice, then sighed. “I actually have something to share too.”
    Marjorie took a long sip of her drink. “Sounds promising.”
    Out of pity or perhaps because he now realized he was dealing with an owner’s friend, the bartender appeared and gestured toward Marjorie’s empty tumbler. She smiled despite herself, as an alcohol-induced lightness rose in her head, a welcome dulling of edges. She nodded.
    “It’s good news, actually,” Vera was saying. “This isn’t quite how I planned to tell you, but … Brian and I are moving in together!”
    Marjorie struggled to reconcile the pendulum swing from anger to enthusiasm—a bit bipolar. “That’s great, Vee. I’m so happy for you guys.”
    “Good. Because there’s more.”
    Where is that drink?
    “We found an apartment.”
    “Already? Wow. So quick!”
    “Well, not that quick.”
    They were silent for a beat. “I … How quick, Vera?”
    Vera mumbled something incomprehensible into her bony hand.
    “What was that?”
    “We’ve been looking for like two months, okay?! I didn’t tell you ’cause I wasn’t sure how you’d react. You’re not the biggest fan of change.”
    “So, you’re moving out.” Marjorie glanced down at her palm, where she’d crumpled her napkin into a stress ball. “When?”
    Vera avoided her gaze. “This weekend.”
    “ This weekend?” Marjorie choked. “Vera, it’s Thursday! Rent is due next week! What am I supposed to do about the other half?”
    Vera glared. “This isn’t about you ! For once !”
    “Giving me notice would have been just