Thursday was wearing a Madonna-like smile. Was it seeing Richard that made her so happy? “You look no worse for wear.” Maggie was giving me the once-over. “I thought you might have the half-starved look of so many out-of-work people.” “You mean like you?” The old enmity had come roaring back, and she was no longer one of my bosses. She gave a shout of laughter. “Well, you’re right, it’s been a rotten time. I’ve been catering, which is just another way of saying that I’ve been in hell.” “That bad?” Richard took a bite of an egg. “Worse.” Maggie upended her glass and took a huge swig of her drink. “Last night I did Christmas cocktails on upper Fifth Avenue, and I was honestly afraid I’d kill the hostess before the evening was over. I had no idea how spoiled I’d gotten at Delicious! She made me go up to her apartment six times in the two weeks before the event to ‘rehearse the hors d’oeuvres.’ If she wasn’t filthy rich I’d swear she just wanted free food.”
