Vivian turned in her seat, one eyebrow raised. “Well, I’m Vivian. Not sure anyone’s ever called metheVivian.”
“Oh, geez.” Sophia pressed her hands to her face. “I’ve read your column since the very first one, when you told me about the airport and the clothes—I laughed so hard, and my sisters both said that was totally something I would do. I haven’t missed one of your pieces since.”
“Thank you. I’m flattered.” Vivian’s eyes flickered down to the nametag pinned to her shirt. “Sophia?”
“Yes, that’s me. I’m Sophia.” She pointed to her chest.
“Soph, we’re kind of in the middle of something here.” The minute the words left my mouth, I realized how rude I’d sounded. I hadn’t meant it that way, but I didn’t want Vivian to be uncomfortable with Sophia’s fawning. In case I hadn’t figured out my mistake, though, Sophia rolled her eyes to clue me in.
“I can see that, Harry. But Vivian’s totally cool. I don’t know why she’s hanging out with you two doofuses.” She shrugged. “No offense to you, Vivian.”
“None taken.” Vivian looked amused. “You must spend a lot of time at this coffee shop, Harry, if the barista has already formed an opinion about you and your buddy.”
“They’re here more than I am, and they’re not getting paid, even the little bit I am. I can’t figure it out.” Sophia smirked. “Either they love the coffee, or one of them is madly in love with me.”
This was getting out of hand. “Sophia is a friend of ours,” I sighed. “We’ve known each other for years. She’s just being obnoxious on purpose.”
“I think you meant to say amusing.” Sophia shot me a wide, toothy grin and then turned back to Vivian. “Vivian, if you ever need a place to write, I will reserve a table for you.”
“Thanks.” Vivian pointed to the baby carriage. “But this sweetie keeps me working at home these days.”
“I’d be happy to babysit.” Sophia peeked into the coach. “Oooh, he’s, like, really tiny.” Glancing up at Vivian, she added, “And cute. Super cute.”
“Yeah, he is.” His mother nodded. “And I’ll definitely keep your offer in mind.”
“Okay.” Sophia flicked a glance my way. “I’ll let you get back to your . . . talk or whatever.”
Once Sophia had returned to her spot behind the counter, Vivian regarded me with interest. “Well, she’s lovely.”
Next to me, Preston snorted. “She’s a ball buster.” He snuck a glance at Vivian. “No offense.”
I shrugged. “She’s okay. Preston and I met Sophia in a college class a few years backs—right around the time you went on that residency, I guess. It turned out we all had a thing for horror movies, rock climbing and sushi.”
“Hey, marriages have been built on less,” Vivian joked. “But all right. We need to get back to business while I still have time.” She tapped her finger on the edge of the table and looked lost for a moment. “So, where was I?” Her expression cleared. “Oh, yeah. That’s right, the writing gig.” She resumed her story. “The long and the short of it is that I turned my search for love and all of the adventures I had before I met Charlie into a very successful column. What I’m thinking, Harry, is that you could do the same thing with this . . . what did you call it again? The cuffing season?”
“Yeah, that’s it!” Preston nodded. “And that is a fascinating idea, Miss Vivian.” He looked over at me, his excitement barely contained. “You’re gonna write about us, my boy, and you’re gonna make us famous.”
Somehow, his excitement wasn’t quite contagious.
I turned back to Vivian. “I get what you’re saying, but where am I going to publish this column? Do I need my own blog? And even if I have that, who’s going to look at it? No one’s heard of me.”
“No. I’m not suggesting you publish your own blog. I’m thinking that the cuffing season would be a temporary replacement for my column—for Fifty Frogs—while I’m on maternity leave.” Vivian looked triumphant. “Don’t you see? It’s a win-win situation. I don’t have to worry about rushing back to writing, and you get some exposure. It’ll begoodexposure, too. Because all my readers are the same demographic that you’re going to be seeking. These are the people who are interested in reading about love and the search for it.” She clasped her hands together. “I think this is kismet.”
“Totally is.” Preston nodded. “Harry here can chronicle our adventures as we seek yees to enjoy the upcoming season with us.”
I ignored him for the moment. “Do you really think anybody’s going to be interested in this, Vivian?” I tried to keep the doubt out of my tone. “I mean, Preston and I aren’t anything special. We’re just two normal guys.”
“That’s exactly why people do want to read about that,” Vivian said, leaning forward in excitement. “They want to know that love and relationships and all of what you’re looking for is possible for them, too. So by telling your story, you’re going to form a connection that all of them can relate to.”
She pulled out her phone, opened up an app and begin typing on the keyboard. “I’ll write a short intro, explaining how we know each other, Harry, and introducing you and Preston. After that, you’ll just need to submit a two thousand-word piece every week on Tuesdays. The column goes live on Friday afternoons. Oh, and I’ll send you the name and email address of my editor.”
“Don’t you need to, like, check with this editor first?” I questioned. “This all seems to be moving pretty fast.” My head was spinning.
“Technically, I do,” she admitted. “But I know that Laurie will love this idea. Also, it’s in my contract that I have the right to have input on my substitute, if I have to be out for any length of time. It has to be approved by Laurie, but I don’t think she’s going to fight me on this. It’s not like I’m changing out the format or anything.”
She finished what she was typing and put her phone away. As she did so, loud cries began to come from the baby carriage, and immediately, her attention snapped to her son as his small feet kicked under the blanket.
“Shhh,” she shushed. “It’s okay. Mom is here.” Lifting the squirming bundle out of the carriage, Vivian held him close. He settled down as soon as he was in her arms, and she smiled at me.
