The Best of Everything

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Book: The Best of Everything Read Online Free PDF
Author: Rona Jaffe
Tags: Fiction, General, Classics
closed against the early-morning sunlight. In the desk chair, with his feet crossed on the blotter and his chin on his chest, was Mr. Shalimar, snoring gently. She stood in tlie doorway, not knowing what to do. Mr. Shahmar snorted in his sleep, tossed his head furiously like a dog shaking itself, and woke up.
    "What? What?" he said. He lowered his feet from the desk, swiv-

    eled around in his chair, and pulled the cord of the Venetian blinds, flooding the office with light.
    "I'm sorry I disturbed you," she said timidly.
    "Oh, I take a rest now and then. For a minute." He looked at her more closely. "Come over here."
    She stood in front of his enormous desk, feeling as if she were being interviewed all over again.
    "New here, aren't you?"
    She nodded.
    "What's your name?"
    "April Morrison."
    He interlocked his fingers on the desk in front of him. "Do you know that for this job you have we turned away fifteen other girls?"
    "No, sir."
    "What do you want to do—get married? Be an editor?"
    "I . . . don't know yet."
    His brows drew together. "What makes you think you have more of a right to be here than any of those fifteen other girls?"
    She put her hands behind her back so he would not see them trembling. "I don't know, sir," she said. "I haven't met them."
    "What makes you think you ought to be here instead of, say, a salesgirl in a dress shop?"
    At that moment she would much rather have been a salesgirl in a dress shop, but she said bravely, "I don't think I'd be a very good salesgirl."
    "Why not?"
    "Because I'm not interested in it."
    "And you're interested in books?"
    "Yes."
    He leaned back, put his hands behind his head, and laughed. For a moment she thought he was laughing at her and her eyes filled with angry tears. "Don't mind," he said. "I always ask the same question of every new girl. I like to see how they think. You'd be surprised the wacky answers some of them give me."
    "Well," April said. She was so relieved she couldn't help smiling. "I hope I didn't give you a wacky answer."
    "Not at all," he said. "You're sensible as well as pretty."
    His compliment made her feel more at ease. "Anyway, I don't think it was fair," she said. "After all, I'm only a typist here."
    22

    "Is that your ambition?"
    "No, I really . . . wanted to be an actress."
    *Xike to read plays?"
    "Very much."
    He leaned on the desk and a faraway look came over his face. "I used to say to Eugene O'Neill ... I knew him well, you know. In the old days, that is. Before he was famous. He was a protege of mine."
    "You don't seem old enough."
    "But he had respect for my opinion. I used to encom-age him." He smiled at her. "I'll tell you some stories someday. I was considered quite a boy genius as an editor, you know. That's before your time."
    "My goodness," April said, "I'd love to hear them."
    "Sometime when we have more time," he said gently. "I have a load of work to do today. How are you fixed for this afternoon? Could you stay till ... six o'clock if we have to? My girl is sick just when I was going to do the monthly report on aU our books. Could you stay?"
    'Td be glad to."
    "If it runs any later than six 111 give you money for dinner. All right?"
    "All right."
    "Now, shut my door, will you, please? And turn the key. There's one thing you'll have to learn right away, and that's how to keep the pests out."
    I'm keeping the pests out of Mr. Shalimar's private office, she thought, and it seemed so much more an elevated position than licking manuscript stickers that her heart began to pound with joy. A girl could do a lot worse on her second day in the working world.
    What an exciting feeling to answer the telephone and recognize the name given to her as one of a famous author. She knew most of these only vaguely, as names she had heard somewhere before, but she memorized them all instantiy. When Mr. Shalimar went out to lunch at the Algonquin with a Hollywood writer she closed his door and read everything on his desk. Then she went downstairs to
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