pediatrics.”
“Good father material, possibly Mr. Right . . .”
“Exactly.” Her sister growled into the phone. “I’m having a clothing crisis. I have business clothes and slop-wear, with nothing in between.”
“Where’s he taking you?”
“Dinner and the theater.”
“You don’t like the theater.”
“Well, he’s cute.”
More hanger screeching.
“I so need to go shopping!”
“I’m thinking there’s no time for that,” Abigail said. “Wear your newish black slacks with your red Anne Klein blouse. Definitely the Kate Spade sandals. Dress it up with your layered silver necklace and dangly earrings.”
“How do you do that?”
“It’s a gift.” Abigail flopped back against her pillow.
“That’s great, thanks. Now I can have a bath, relax, and stop stressing about my clothes. Oh, please don’t let me get an emergency tonight.”
“At least he’d understand.”
“What if he gets an emergency? Oh, why am I going out with another doctor?”
“Because he’s cute?”
“Oh, yeah. Speaking of cute, how’s your cowboy?”
“I never said he was cute.”
“Didn’t have to. I’m your sister, I heard the nuances in your voice.”
“Wade’s fine, and so is Maddy. I didn’t call about them though. I’m calling to get the scoop on Mom. Or more precisely, on the magazine. I just got off the phone with her, and I could tell something’s up.”
The sudden whoosh of water sounded. “Sorry, didn’t hear.”
“Nice try. What’s going on?” If their mom was in trouble and Abigail could help . . . “Reagan?”
“ Viewpoint ’s going through a rough spot, Abs. She’s just worried.”
“The new format isn’t helping?”
Mom had worked with a designer to change the magazine’s look. The overhaul was fabulous, and Abigail had been sure it was exactly what Viewpoint needed.
“There’s been great feedback from your current readers, but I guess a new format isn’t enough to persuade new readers to give it a try, and . . .” Her sister’s words trailed off.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Mom wants you to relax out there, Abs. And as your doctor, I second that—”
“ Viewpoint is more than just my place of employment. It means everything to Mom, and if there’s something going on, I need to know.”
The sound of water grew fainter, and the click of the door sounded in Abigail’s ear.
“Mom would kill me if she knew I told you.”
“I won’t say anything.”
Reagan sighed into the phone. “BlueFly Publications is giving her three months to increase circulation by 30 percent. If she doesn’t, they’re shutting it down.”
“Thirty percent in three months? That’s impossible!” Abigail knew things were rocky, but it never occurred to her BlueFly would take such a hard line. “Mom’s put thirty years into that magazine! Don’t they know how many people that would put out of work?”
“I know. But supposedly they aren’t turning enough of a profit to justify the magazine’s existence.”
Abigail popped upright. “I have to come home.”
“No! You can’t. Let Mom handle this. She’s run the thing for all these years, she can figure it out.”
“I can help. I can write a major exposé or something and—”
Wade’s story flashed into her mind. If she found answers, if she could figure out what had really happened to Wade’s wife, it would be a major story. With Wade’s image splashed across the cover, thousands of readers would buy it. And once they sampled the new and improved magazine, she was sure circulation would increase dramatically. They only needed a story big enough to make people try it. And she had just the story to do it.
“Mom didn’t want you to know about this. You can’t come home.”
“What if I can solve the problem from here?”
“What are you talking about?”
BlueFly had given them three months. “When did BlueFly notify Mom of their decision?”
“Yesterday. Where are you going with
“Good father material, possibly Mr. Right . . .”
“Exactly.” Her sister growled into the phone. “I’m having a clothing crisis. I have business clothes and slop-wear, with nothing in between.”
“Where’s he taking you?”
“Dinner and the theater.”
“You don’t like the theater.”
“Well, he’s cute.”
More hanger screeching.
“I so need to go shopping!”
“I’m thinking there’s no time for that,” Abigail said. “Wear your newish black slacks with your red Anne Klein blouse. Definitely the Kate Spade sandals. Dress it up with your layered silver necklace and dangly earrings.”
“How do you do that?”
“It’s a gift.” Abigail flopped back against her pillow.
“That’s great, thanks. Now I can have a bath, relax, and stop stressing about my clothes. Oh, please don’t let me get an emergency tonight.”
“At least he’d understand.”
“What if he gets an emergency? Oh, why am I going out with another doctor?”
“Because he’s cute?”
“Oh, yeah. Speaking of cute, how’s your cowboy?”
“I never said he was cute.”
“Didn’t have to. I’m your sister, I heard the nuances in your voice.”
“Wade’s fine, and so is Maddy. I didn’t call about them though. I’m calling to get the scoop on Mom. Or more precisely, on the magazine. I just got off the phone with her, and I could tell something’s up.”
The sudden whoosh of water sounded. “Sorry, didn’t hear.”
“Nice try. What’s going on?” If their mom was in trouble and Abigail could help . . . “Reagan?”
“ Viewpoint ’s going through a rough spot, Abs. She’s just worried.”
“The new format isn’t helping?”
Mom had worked with a designer to change the magazine’s look. The overhaul was fabulous, and Abigail had been sure it was exactly what Viewpoint needed.
“There’s been great feedback from your current readers, but I guess a new format isn’t enough to persuade new readers to give it a try, and . . .” Her sister’s words trailed off.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Mom wants you to relax out there, Abs. And as your doctor, I second that—”
“ Viewpoint is more than just my place of employment. It means everything to Mom, and if there’s something going on, I need to know.”
The sound of water grew fainter, and the click of the door sounded in Abigail’s ear.
“Mom would kill me if she knew I told you.”
“I won’t say anything.”
Reagan sighed into the phone. “BlueFly Publications is giving her three months to increase circulation by 30 percent. If she doesn’t, they’re shutting it down.”
“Thirty percent in three months? That’s impossible!” Abigail knew things were rocky, but it never occurred to her BlueFly would take such a hard line. “Mom’s put thirty years into that magazine! Don’t they know how many people that would put out of work?”
“I know. But supposedly they aren’t turning enough of a profit to justify the magazine’s existence.”
Abigail popped upright. “I have to come home.”
“No! You can’t. Let Mom handle this. She’s run the thing for all these years, she can figure it out.”
“I can help. I can write a major exposé or something and—”
Wade’s story flashed into her mind. If she found answers, if she could figure out what had really happened to Wade’s wife, it would be a major story. With Wade’s image splashed across the cover, thousands of readers would buy it. And once they sampled the new and improved magazine, she was sure circulation would increase dramatically. They only needed a story big enough to make people try it. And she had just the story to do it.
“Mom didn’t want you to know about this. You can’t come home.”
“What if I can solve the problem from here?”
“What are you talking about?”
BlueFly had given them three months. “When did BlueFly notify Mom of their decision?”
“Yesterday. Where are you going with
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