Little Pink Slips by Sally Koslow Page B

know I had nothing to do with it," Natalie said the
    minute she heard Magnolia's voice. "Obviously, it's dreadful. But,
    Cookie, just deal. Rise above."
    Natalie completely understood about Magnolia's not wanting to give
    up Sasha, however. Natalie's two assistants kept her life humming with
    gracious precision. The First Lady could take lessons. "Power's for the
    taking," she advised. "Proceed as if you assume Sasha will continue to
    work for you. Believe me, nobody's thinking about her right now."
    "Do you think I can pull this off ?" Magnolia asked. "My God, of course!" Natalie all but screamed into the phone.
    "You're so talented, so everything, but sometimes I absolutely want to
    bitch slap you. Or at least send you to my mother for a self-confidence
    tune-up."
    Magnolia had met Estelle, Natalie's mother, numerous times. The
    woman could have run General Motors if she hadn't been too busy
    negotiating delicate country club politics, taking on issues as onerous
    and portentous and divisive as whether kids in diapers should be
    allowed in the pool. Certainly, Estelle had done a number on Natalie.
    No flagging confidence there.
    "The press conference is what you should be concentrating on,"
    Natalie said. "Look sharp. Wear your Michael Kors suit."
    Later in the evening, while walking Biggie and Lola, she thought
    again that in the avalanche of attention, all unwanted, there was still
    one person she hadn't heard from who might have made her hellish
    day easier. Why hadn't Harry sent flowers or at least called? But her
    head reverted to work. Change is good, she repeated to herself.
    Change is good.
    What a lot of crap, she decided. Whoever thought up that proverb
    clearly had always been in charge of her changes.

C h a p t e r 1 2

    Bushwhacking at the Pierre

    Magnolia knew she had talent. That, and the pluck common to those who hail from the middle of nowhere, who realize
    that if they want to succeed in a more stylish time zone, they must
    learn early the value of hard work. Her ability to toil like an inden
    tured servant was, Magnolia thought, one quality that might set her
    apart from editors who came from more privileged backgrounds. But
    was it true that she never doubted herself ? Every editor Magnolia
    knew possessed some measure of self-doubt, even the prep-school
    princesses and Ivy grads.
    At thirty-seven, had she already redeemed her quota of hit-the
    jackpot coupons? Her cynical side understood that she and all the
    other top names on an editorial masthead owed their job security to
    serendipity. Only deluded egomaniacs—and Magnolia had a few of
    them on speed dial—convinced themselves that talent alone truly
    engineered big breaks and continued success.
    The hiring gods giveth, but they also taketh away. Today was one
    of those away days. When you might least expect it, you're heading
    off to the Pierre to watch a celebrity begin the public tango of let's
    pretend-I'm-an-editor, while you try on the unfamiliar role of wall
    flower. Magnolia dressed in the suit Natalie had suggested. She unearthed
    her Chanel sample-sale handbag, and hoped no one thought she'd
    scored it at the Chinatown spider hole that her assistant Sasha swore
    by for dead-on knockoffs. She sat silently through her blowout. After
    ward, she stopped at Tiffany's and sent out an Elsa Peretti baby spoon
    to her college roommate's infant daughter. It was only June, and the
    sixth baby present she'd given this year, three to little girls named
    Isabelle. She arrived at work around 11:30, knowing her presence, just
    now, made everyone around her twitch with discomfort.
    At 1:30, Elizabeth Lester Duvall, sunlight bouncing off her silver
    head, peered through the glass wall of Magnolia's new office,
    mouthing, "Time to go." The limo ride to the Pierre gave Elizabeth
    ample opportunity to bark a few more orders.
       "If you're asked about Lady, defer to me," she said.
       "Got it," Magnolia answered.
    "When Bebe enters the stage, stand