Every Boy's Got One Read online

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  Um… why are you emailing me from inside the same car we are both sitting in? Also, I thought we were only supposed to use these things for work purposes.

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  I can’t exactly talk to you about the email he got from his mother IN FRONT OF HIM, now can I? Except this way.

  And how are they ever going to know what we use these dumb things for, anyway? How are you holding up?

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  Good. It’s pretty here.

  How do you know that his mom emailed him, anyway?

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  Duh. I read it over his shoulder just now. I saw you and Cal talking at the baggage carousel. What did he say?

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  Oh. Nothing.

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  Come on! SPILL!

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  Is this a setup? Are you and Mark playing Fix Up the Best Friends? Because I told you before, I’m TAKEN. Besides. He’s not my type.

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  You have a type ? What is it? The only thing the guys you’ve dated have in common is that they’ve all been unemployed. Or, if they HAD jobs, they were also screwing Amy Jenkins, like Dave.

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  Whatever happened to her, anyway?

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  Who? Amy Jenkins?

  She married a rich lawyer, moved to Pound Ridge, and squeezed out two kids.

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  No! No, she didn’t! Why did you tell me that? THAT’S NOT FAIR!!! She tried to ruin my life!!! Why should SHE have a happy ending?

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  You call living in Pound Ridge with a lawyer and two kids a happy ending? You so know she spends her days working out and helping the nanny make wheat-free snacks.

  Don’t worry. In a couple of years she’ll pudge out and he’ll trade her in for a younger model and she won’t be able to get a job to support herself anywhere because she doesn’t have any references, and one day you and Cal will pull into an outlet Benetton to pick up a pair of socks and she’ll be working the cash register.

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  I don’t want to talk about this anymore.

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  Why not?

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  Well, for one thing, he’s sitting right next to me! He might see! Cut it out!

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  He’s not paying attention. He has his own emails to catch up on. Come on. What did he say? He must have said SOMETHING. You guys just sat next to each other for seven hours. Are you telling me he didn’t say ANYTHING that entire time?

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  Nothing. Really. Oh, at the baggage carousel, he said he was sorry for stepping on my foot.

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  That’s IT? Wow. That’s weird. Did he talk about his marriage at all?

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  HIS WHAT?????????????????????

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  God, use question marks much?

  His MARRIAGE. He was married once, you know. He’s divorced. I just wondered if he’d mentioned it.

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  He didn’t say a word about this. But it explains an awful lot. Who was the NOT SO lucky girl?

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  Her name was Valerie Something. I don’t know, really, it was ten years ago, back when he and Mark just graduated from college. They met in a bar. He was the newest cub reporter, and she was a model. They went out for about a month before he decided she was the best thing that ever happened to him and married her. They only lasted about a year. Apparently, as soon as the divorce was final, she married an investment banker, and Cal asked for an overseas post. According to Mark, she broke Cal’s heart.

  And what did you mean by that explains an awful lot?

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo m>

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  Nothing.

  Oh, so you’re saying he has a heart after all?

  J

  ___________________________________________

  To: Jane Harris

  Fr: Holly Caputo

  Re: His Mother

  Come on. He’s a nice guy. He’s had a crappy time with women—I guess his mother left to “find herself” when he was still in high school, and lately, his little sister’s followed suit. He was just put through the wringer by another model, and spent the past decade recovering in places where they don’t have cell phone service. Or working toilets. Can you blame him for being a little rough around the edges?

  Besides, he can’t be THAT bad. Mark says Cal’s always been a real ladies’ man—that he’s got a girl in every port, if you know what I mean. In fact, Mark was sure you two would hit it off right away. He said you’re just Cal’s type. Apparently, he’s partial to brunettes.

  He really must not like you.

  Holly

  ___________________________________________

  To: Holly Caputo

  Fr: Jane Harris

  Re: His Mother

  Wow. That’s really nice to know. Thanks so very much for that.

  J

  PS Oh, and thanks for trying to fix me up with him, but even if I COULD stand him, which I can’t, he’s a modelizer. You KNOW once a guy’s had a model, he can never go back. So, nice try.

  ___________________________________________

  To: Cal Langdon

  Fr: Mark Levine

  Re: Benvenuto

  The girls are emailing back and forth about us.

  Mark

  ___________________________________________

  To: Mark Levine

  Fr: Cal Langdon

  Re: Benvenuto

  That is blatantly obvious.

  Cal

  ___________________________________________

  To: Cal Langdon

  Fr: Mark Levine

  Re: Benvenuto

  What do you think they’re saying?

  Mark

  ___________________________________________

  To: Mark Levine

  Fr: Cal Langdon

  Re: Benvenuto

  I honestly could not care less.

  Cal

  ___________________________________________

  To: Cal Langdon

  Fr: Mark Levine

  Re: Benvenuto

  Don’t you like her? Jane, I mean? Holly was sure you’d like her.

  Mark

  ___________________________________________

  To: Mark Levine

  Fr: Cal Langdon

  Re: Benvenuto

  She seems harmless enough.

  Cal

  ___________________________________________

  To: Cal Langdon

  Fr: Mark Levine

  Re: Benvenuto

  You don’t like her.

  Mark

  ___________________________________________

  To: Mark Levine

  Fr: Cal Langdon

  Re: Benvenuto

  I didn’t say that. All I said was that she seemed harmless. Much in the way an anaconda seems harmless, when it’s wrapped around a tree branch ten feet above your head.

  Cal

  ___________________________________________

  To: Cal Langdon

  Fr: Mark Levine

  Re: Benvenuto

  She’s not like that.

  And she already has a boyfriend, anyway.

  So get over yourself, fathead.

  Mark

  ___________________________________________

  To: Mark Levine

  Fr: Cal Langdon

  Re: Benvenuto

  Fathead. Harsh.

  Cal

  ___________________________________________

  To: Cal Langdon

  Fr: Mark Levine

  Re: Benvenuto

  Seriously. ARE you seeing anyone—anyone SPECIAL—these days?

  Mark

  ___________________________________________

  To: Mark Levine

  Fr: Cal Langdon

  Re: Benvenuto

  They’re all special, my friend.

  But special enough to shackle myself to her for the rest of eternity, the way you’re doing?

  No.

  But your concern for my romantic well-being is, as always, greatly appreciated.

  Cal

  ___________________________________________

  To: Cal Langdon

  Fr: Mark Levine

  Re: Benvenuto

  Look, it’s just that I know how tough things were for you after—

  ___________________________________________

  To: Mark Levine

  Fr: Cal Langdon

  Re: Benvenuto

  Oh, look. The hotel. Stop e-ing me, please.

  Cal

  ___________________________________________

  RICEVUTA TAXI-ROMA

  Percoso:

  Da… Fiumacino A… Hotel Alexander

  Firma

  Importo Corsa 80.00 Euro

  ___________________________________________

  ___________________________________________

  Benvenuto al nostro albergo!

  (Welcome to our Hotel!)

  Gentile Ospite,

  Nel porgerLe il nostro cordiale benevuto, abbiamo pensato fe FarLe cosa gradita offrendoLe, al suo arrivo, un assaggio di acqua dalle proprietaria salutari.

  Dear Guest,

  We wish to express our warmest welcome to our hotel. Given our genuine care for our Guests, we invite you to enjoy the healthy qualities of this bottled water.

  ___________________________________________

  Travel Diary of Jane Harris

  Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine

  Jane Harris

  We’re HERE!!!!!!!! At the hotel, I mean.

  It’s the sweetest little place, tucked into a side street that isn’t wide enough to let a car coming from the other way pass by. And packed with people! I thought it was a pedestrian walkway and that the taxi driver was going the wrong way. But it turned out it was the Via di Buffalo, which is the street our hotel is on.

  Still, it was kind of scary when those Italian school kids kept knocking on the car windows. I wonder what the driver yelled at them to make them run away like that. This is what comes of not having enough social programs for young people. Those kids should have had something better to do on a Saturday than stand around the Via di Buffalo, knocking on tourists’ car door windows.

  Not that I want to tell another country how it ought to be bringing up its children, or anything. But still.

  All I wanted to do was get to my room and take a nap, but Cal had to start arguing with the taxi driver when he saw the receipt. He said over his dead body was he paying 80 euros for a ride from the airport and that the taxi driver might think he could bilk the tourists that way, but that he, Cal, had been to Rome before, and he knew the fare from the airport wasn
’t a cent over 40 euros. In English. Which it turned out the driver perfectly understood. And after a lot of grousing, he finally agreed that 40 euros would do.

  So it’s good Mark invited Cal along with us. I guess.

  Anyway, my room is so adorable, a tiny little blue-and-white thing with gold curtains that, when I opened them, turned out to be for a window that looks out over the most beautiful courtyard, with white doves flying around it, and bougainvillea spilling from window boxes all over the place, and a sky stretched over it that, I swear, looks bluer than the sky over Manhattan, somehow. It is EXACTLY like Helena Bonham Carter’s room in the pensione in Room with a View . Only there’s no view. Well, except for the courtyard and the sky.

  And there are big bottles of water right here in my room, for later, and I turned on the TV, and everything was In Italian!

  I mean, I knew it would be. It’s just SO WEIRD!

  I thought I would be way too tired to want to go out and sightsee, but now that I’m finally here, I’m really stoked! I want to get out there and see EVERYTHING. After all, we only have about 24 hours in Rome before we leave for Le Marche.

  On second thought, I didn’t sleep very well on the plane, thanks to The Armrest Nazi. I suppose I shouldn’t call him that anymore on account of him having been so tragically jilted all those years ago by that model.

  But seriously, what did he expect, marrying a model? Modelizers get exactly what they deserve.

  Maybe I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute or two….