“So then I can only assume that you have borne witness to my public downfall,” she said before she could reorient herself and remember that she was supposed to be playing indifferent. “Did you take the time to vote in thePeoplemagazine poll? ‘Should We Banish BiRo to a Desert Island?’ ”
“I... did not vote in thePeoplepoll,” he said. Which of course he hadn’t. He reported on “real things,” and Birdie now truly wanted to crawl under her stool and possibly die there.
“Fuck thePeoplemagazine poll!” Mona chimed in. “I got Nelson’s nephew to write an algorithm to spam bot it.”
“Evenyousaw thePeoplemagazine poll?” Birdie groaned. “Mona, no offense, but you don’t need to be wasting your time defending my honor by screwing with the algorithms.”
“That’s what I’m always telling her,” Elliot said.
“That she shouldn’t be defending my honor?” Birdie narrowed her eyes.
“No, that she’s too brilliant for any of this ridiculousness.”
“I’m not doing this with you right now, Elliot. We have more important things to discuss,” Mona replied.
“More important than you graduating from college?” Elliot asked.
“Yes, Birdie got a love letter!”
Birdie slapped her hand over her eyes.
“It’s nothing,” Birdie said, because the last thing she needed was further humiliation in front of Elliot.
“You got a love letter... and... that’s news?” he asked. “I’d think you’d get a lot of those.”
“It was sentto her house. Withbothof her names. Which means it’s a real person. But anonymous, unsigned, a complete mystery!” Mona sang. “Isn’t that amazing?” Mona, for once, was not reading Birdie’s cues.
“It’s not amazing, Mon,” Birdie mumbled and dodged Elliot’s eyes. “But it could be helpful, that’s all.”
“Mona, I need tequila,” Elliot said. “Just give me the whole bottle.” He reached over the bar and helped himself before she could protest. “And, Birdie, how exactly is an anonymous love letter helpful? I don’t follow.”
“She’s going to find out who sent it!” Mona was practically levitating now. For someone who was such a scientific genius, Birdie thought, she really could let her imagination get the better of her. “She’s going to track him down and remind America thatshe was their sweetheart all along. And also, maybe, probably, potentially find the man of her dreams.”
“I don’t have a man of my dreams, Mona. Really. Please,” Birdie muttered. Was it too late to run straight out into the night and pretend none of this had happened?
Elliot took a deep glug from the tequila bottle, as if he had his own things to forget. Probably including sleeping with Birdie, but then, she remembered, hehadforgotten. Quite easily. “Explain,” he said. “What exactly does that look like? You email various exes and ask them if they sent you an anonymous letter, and if someone admits to it, you issue a press release?”
Birdie felt herself scowl. “I don’t issue a press release.”
“You call the paparazzi to catch you guys covertly hand in hand?”
“I don’t call the paparazziever,” she seethed. Forget running out into the night. She wanted to strangle him. That would work too.
“Okay, so, then, what? How exactly does this work?”
Birdie glared at him, then darted her eyes to the floor.
“I haven’t thought through all the details,” she said with a huff. “I just knew that this was the opening scene of sorts. ‘Publicly reviled former America’s Sweetheart gets a chance at love again.’ Who wouldn’t green-light that?”
“I would, that’s for sure,” Mona said, just as Nelson Pratt shouted, “Mona O’Brien, if you don’t get us pitchers of Bud Light in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to get down on one knee and beg you to marry me in front of everyone here!” Mona reddened and said, “Excuse me, I’ll be back. Hold that thought.”
Birdie and Elliot stared at their knees until she was across the room.
“Did you tell her?” Birdie hissed. “Please tell me that you didn’t tell her.”
“DidItell her?” Elliot whispered back. “Would I still be alive if I had?”
“So she knows nothing?” Birdie said. She firmed her jaw and flared her nostrils just like she would in a close-up. She had the scowl down perfectly.
