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“Yankees.”
“Better,” Emma said. “Still an awful idea.” She too went back to her computer.
“Grace?”
Grace turned toward her boss. She hadn’t really been working anyway. Saks was having an online sale of Jimmy Choos, and retail therapy was better on her hips than chocolate therapy. But since Camille’s rambling concerned her rather directly, she might as well state her baseball ambivalence now. Not to mention Jake’s rather bizarre, unfounded hatred for the New York Yankees.
“Why baseball?” Grace asked.
“Because Stiletto readers love guys in baseball pants?”
Riley slapped her desk and made a buzzing noise as though they were in a game show. “Try again.”
Camille pushed her way into the already overcrowded office and perched on the edge of Emma’s desk. “Okay, fine. Alex knows somebody who got a bunch of cheap tickets.”
Julie leaned back in her chair and studied their boss. “This whole thing has been a girls-versus-boys war, and you’re seriously suggesting we take the finale on the road to a baseball game?”
Grace discreetly fished out one of the chocolate raspberry truffles that Jake had given her when they’d met in the stairwell that morning. It had become kind of a morning thing for them. The shared elevator ride and the exchanged greetings were for their spectators.
But after all that? When they met in the stairwell at ten every morning?
That was just for them. Chocolate was often involved. Also, kissing.
“Why do we even have to have a finale at all?” Grace asked.
&nbs
p; The office abruptly quieted, and Emma finally cleared her throat. “Do you, uh … want it to go on indefinitely?”
Yes.
Grace 2.0 slapped 1.0. Hard.
“I mean, why do we have to make a big spectacle of it? Why not just sort of let it fade out with a ‘Hey, show’s over, who won?’ ”
“Borrrr-rriing,” Riley asserted. “People are invested in you and Jake. We pitched this as two love experts going toe-to-toe. They want to see the final showdown.”
“That sounds really lovely,” Grace said. “Why not just put us in a boxing ring?”
“Too dark,” Camille said. “The lighting would be awful.”
“Well, gosh, if the lighting’s awful, let’s call the whole thing off,” Emma said.
Grace held up her hands to stop all the chatter, her head starting to spin. This was all wrong. After all they’d been through, it would end at a baseball game? Jake was a football guy, and Grace wasn’t any ballgame kind of girl.
Grace 2.0 cleared her throat. Well … there are some balls you wouldn’t mind a closer look at.
At that, 1.0 tittered and blushed.
“You won’t be able to get Jake in the stadium,” she said confidently. “He hates the Yankees.”
“The tickets have already been purchased,” Camille said decisively. “Of course he’ll go. Or he will once Cassidy plays the boss card. And I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”
“Oh? Had you gotten to the tolerable part yet?” Grace asked innocently. “I think I missed it.”
Camille ignored her. “This whole website business has really helped put a face on our columnists, and people have taken to it. And what better way to reward them and encourage them to stay engaged than to allow them to meet the objects of their obsession?”
Julie groaned, and Riley made a ruh-roh noise.
