Meg Cabot - Boy Meets Girl

Mitch

To: Mitchell Hertzog

Fr: Stacy Trent

Re: Stuart = Satan’s Spawn

I heard. Stuart did happen to mention that you deposed one of Amy Jenkins’s oppressed flunkies this morning. I take it it went well. Stuart seems to think you found the flunkie . . . ahem, worth your valuable time. True? False? Or do you plead the Fifth?

Stace

To: Stacy Trent

Fr: Mitchell Hertzog

Re: Uh-oh

Stuart’s making you ask, huh? God, he’s transparent. Well, you can tell him from me that I found his fiancée’s employee most agreeable.

That ought to kill him.

Mitch

To: Mitchell Hertzog

Fr: Stacy Trent

Re: Uh-oh

Oh my God. The last woman I heard you describe as agreeable was that stewardess you met in Kuala Lampur. And remember how THAT turned out?

Stace

P.S. Stuart’s not the one I’m worried about. It’s Dad, actually.

To: Stacy Trent

Fr: Mitchell Hertzog

Re: Uh-oh

Yes, but I am older and wiser now, and no longer prone to be impressed by surgical enhancement.

Mitch

P.S. Since when does Dad care who I find agreeable? Since when does Dad care about anything except making par?

To: Mitchell Hertzog

Fr: Stacy Trent

Re: Uh-oh

Oh my God. You HAVE got it bad. What’s her name?

Stace

P.S. Um, does a triple bypass just eight months ago ring a bell?

To: Stacy Trent

Fr: Mitchell Hertzog

Re: Uh-oh

Her name is Kate.

Tell Jason I went ahead and reserved an 8 a.m. tee time tomorrow for us at New Canaan. If you’ll deign to let him out of the house. And I don’t care if it’s snowing, we’re still going.

Mitch

P.S. Tell Stuart to mind his own business.

To: Mitchell Hertzog

Fr: Stacy Trent

Re: Kate

Screw tee times in New Canaan. Get back to the girl. I’m a housewife with three kids, one of whom still isn’t potty trained. To me, romance is a quickie once a week while the kids are glued to SpongeBob SquarePants. If I’m lucky. Now spill it. What’s she like? I thought you hated MBA types.

Stace

P.S. I did. He threatened to tell on me about the Mercedes thing.

To: Stacy Trent

Fr: Mitchell Hertzog

Re: Kate

No, I hate other lawyers. Besides, she isn’t an MBA. She’s a BA. In social work. And thanks for sharing that SpongeBob SquarePants thing. Because I really needed to know that about my big sister.

And in answer to your query, from what I could tell during the incredibly brief interlude we shared this morning in Dad’s conference room, and what I have gathered from a former client of mine who happens to know her, Kate is kind and pure of heart, and recently broke up with her no-good rock-musician boyfriend, and likes chicken with garlic sauce.

Oh, and she’s blonde. And from Kentucky. And probably about as unlikely as any girl I’ve ever met ever to date a lawyer—especially one who works for a client like Peter Hargrave. Hope that helps.

Tell Jason they swear to me that the snow on the seventh green is melting. Also, if you want, I’ll come over afterwards and teach Little John how to pitch. Just so he doesn’t embarrass himself when he starts kindergarten, throwing like his dad. I mean, like a girl.

Mitch

P.S. The Mercedes thing? Again? Oh, what, and Mom threatened not to leave you her dolls?

To: Mitchell Hertzog

Fr: Stacy Trent

Re: Kate

Um, Mitch, not to burst your bubble, but Little John is two. Okay? He isn’t going to start kindergarten for at least three more years.

But of course you’re welcome to come by anytime. Fair warning, however: Jason’s brother—Little John’s namesake—and his wife Mel will be over in the afternoon with their new baby. I know how you tend to feel baby-overload if there is more than one set of Pampers in the room at a time, so I wanted to make sure you had time to prepare yourself mentally.

I know—why don’t you ask Kate to come along? She probably doesn’t like lawyers because she’s never really known one. Once she gets to know you, she’ll warm up to you. And what better way to show how sweet and cuddly lawyers can be than to see one in the bosom of his family? She could take the train up, and you can pick her up at the station after your golf game and bring her here. Then we can break out those expensive bottles of wine Stuart had his assistant send us for Christmas, and toast him and his bride-to-be. And it’ll be really fun because Stuart and Amy won’t actually BE here.

Come on, it’ll be great. Say you’ll invite her.

Stace

P.S. I’ll be sure to pass your assessment of my husband’s throwing skills on to him. I’m guessing he’ll be immensely flattered.

P.P.S. Yes about the dolls.

To: Stacy Trent

Fr: Mitchell Hertzog

Re: Kate

Nice try, but if you think any guy is going to bring a girl he’s only met once in a professional setting home to meet his family, then can I just say that you have been out of the singles scene for a very, very long time? No offense, Stace, but I think you and Jason need to dump the kids on Mom and grab a weekend in Miami or something. The whole quickie-during-Spongebob thing has warped your idea of what romance actually is.

Allow me to assure you that the chances of my bringing any girl out to meet you and Jason and the kids . . . not to mention some of your many in-laws—even decent ones like John and Mel—before we’ve even—

Well, you can forget about it.

And now I have to go over to the offices of our future sister-in-law to inquire of her, in person, why she hasn’t returned any of my assistant’s calls asking her to schedule an appointment for her pretrial discovery conference.

And if I should happen, upon my way there, to run into Kate, you’ll undoubtedly hear all about it from Stuart, who’ll get it from Amy, so why should I trouble myself?

See you tomorrow.

Mitch

P.S. Really, Stace. You’ve got to stop letting them push you around. I’ll take care of the freaking kids while the two of you are in Paris next month. Okay?

P.P.S. Yeah, I knew. Mom’s been talking about it nonstop. You think I am not aware that she’s holding canceling on you like an anvil over your head? Relax. The kids love me. We’ll have a blast. And that whole thing with Little John’s first word—look, I told you, it just slipped out. The guy came at us from out of nowhere. It’s a wonder we weren’t killed. And wouldn’t you rather your son’s first word be of the four-letter variety than some boring Mamma or Dadda thing? Wouldn’t you?

New York Journal Employee Incident Report

Name/Title of Reporter:

Carl Hopkins, Security Officer

Date/Time of Incident:

Friday, 3:30 p.m.

Place of Incident:

NY Journal Lobby

Persons Involved in Incident:

Dale Carter, no affiliation with the paper, 26

Mitchell Hertzog, outside legal counsel, 29

Kathleen Mackenzie, Human Resources, 25

Nature of Incident:

D. Carter attempted to enter building to give large bouquet of roses to K. Mackenzie. C. Hopkins stopped D. Carter at security desk and told him to wait for K. Mackenzie to come down to sign him in.

K. Mackenzie, when contacted, said would not come down.

C. Hopkins told D. Carter to leave.

D. Carter would not leave.

D. Carter said would wait until K. Mackenzie exited building for the day.

C. Hopkins informed D. Carter that no loitering in lobby allowed.

D. Carter again said would not leave.

D. Carter sat down in middle of lobby.

C. Hopkins contacted K. Mackenzie. Told K. Mackenzie that D. Carter would not leave.

K. Mackenzie came downstairs.