“You too. Watch out for the boring ones.” They smiled at each other with all the love they’d shared since they were children, and then she went through security, and waved at him. After she disappeared into the crowd, he felt sad to see her go. She was so much a part of his daily life. He walked to the garage to get his car, and drove back to the city. He hoped everything would go well for her in London, and that she would remember the lesson she had learned with Ed. He hoped she’d meet a good man now, and he was going to see where things went with Tamar. He was convinced she wasn’t as boring as Coco said.
Chapter 4
Coco had given herself a few days’ leeway to find a place to live before she started work. She was lucky because with the money she had inherited from her parents, she could afford to live in a good neighborhood, rent a cheerful, safe apartment, and have a place she truly liked. For others, it wasn’t as easy, which was one reason why no one had leapt at the internship in London. It was an expensive city. With the help of a realtor, she rented an adorable mews house that was nicely furnished and would be a lovely home for her in London. It wasn’t showy, but had everything she wanted. And it was available immediately.
She left the hotel, unpacked her bags, and was settled in when she started work at Time. Her boss was a woman in her late thirties, Leslie Thomas. She gave Coco a stack of filing to do, and a long list of calls to make on her first day of work. Coco was off and running and had a good first day. Everyone was pleasant and polite to her. They introduced themselves as soon as they saw her, and by the end of the week, she knew who they were and what they did. She was, as John Campbell had described the job to her, the office jack-of-all-trades. She did everything from changing the occasional light bulb to making dinner reservations for her superiors. Leslie gave her some small captions to edit on her second day there, to gauge her creativity and writing skills. Coco was above all willing, grateful for the job, and thrilled to be there. She was honest about the fact that the internship was her first real job, at twenty-two. She didn’t pretend to know things she didn’t, which Leslie liked about her. She was hardworking and sincere, and eager to learn.
“Where are you staying?” Leslie asked her. Coco had already figured out that her boss’s accent was upper class. There was a definite distinction between social levels in England, and someone had whispered to her that Leslie’s father was in the House of Lords, which meant that she came from a distinguished family, but not necessarily that she had money, and she had said that she lived in East London, which was comfortable and respectable, but not fancy.
Leslie was attractive, single, and had no children, and had mentioned to Coco that she was divorced. She was thirty-eight and had no boyfriend at the moment.
“I found something in Chelsea,” Coco answered, referring to where she lived, without saying it was a house, even though very small. It was more like a dollhouse, but had everything she needed, and was perfect for her. But the neighborhood made it clear that Coco wasn’t poor or struggling.
“I’m giving a party on Saturday night, if you’d like to come. Most people leave town on the weekend, if they can, but the weather has been so beastly, I’m hoping enough people will be here.”
It had been raining nonstop since Coco arrived. She didn’t care. She had so much to discover about her job and the people she worked with that the weather hadn’t bothered her so far, although it might after a while. It had been blazing hot and sunny in New York, and was perfect August weather the last time she went to the Hamptons with Sam. It felt more like winter in London. She’d worn a light wool coat to work every day. She thanked Leslie for the invitation and jotted down the address. “Nothing fancy,” Leslie added, “jeans and a nice top are fine,” which was more or less the same dress code as with her friends in New York, although not at the