I'll Take Manhattan by Judith Krantz

Author:Judith Krantz [Krantz, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780307766441
Google: hjpvZ9kvOXoC
Amazon: 0553264079
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1986-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Elie was waiting with the limo downstairs.

“The center of the universe, Elie,” she ordered. He made his rapid, illegal way to the corner of Fifty-seventh and Fifth, stopped and opened the door for her. “When will you need me tonight, Miss Amberville?”

“I’m not sure, Elie, but call in around six.”

She walked briskly down Fifth Avenue, breathing deeply, relishing the nimble temper of the September city, that perpetual urban high-wire act. She loved the incomparable tension of this island metropolis that felt as if it were perched on the top of an active volcano. “ ‘I’ll take Manhattan, the Bronx and Staten Island too,’ ” Maxi sang, although she had known for years that the song her father had taught her had been skewed to suit his determination since the first three words of the lyric really were “We’ll have Manhattan.”

Never had Fifth Avenue seemed broader or brighter to her than after the dismal hours she’d spent in her new office, never had the passing throng, pushing and shoving and overtaking each other in the aggressive, con brio New York version of a stroll, seemed more fascinating and varied than after the fruitless afternoon she’d spent with her yellow pad. Everyone had a destination, a goal, a reason for being here, in this place, on this street, at this hour.

What, Maxi wondered, what did they all want? Wanting was the very essence of the New Yorker. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to make a smashing success of Buttons and Bows and quite suddenly she admitted to herself that she knew it could not be done. Not with Buttons and Bows. No way, nohow. There was no major demand in this city, where there was a market for everything, for a magazine that was devoted to articles, no matter how well executed, on the mystery of the hand-embroidered glitz on Julio’s three-thousand-dollar dresses or the ruffles on Prince’s clothes or the definitive word on Linda Evans’s paillettes. Probably there was a market for a magazine for contact lens wearers, or a magazine for left-handed people, perhaps even a magazine for people who collected string, but they would always be small magazines. Maxi wasn’t about to pour her energy into a small magazine.

Scratch trimming, she thought. She needed to find a new idea—a—a concept. That was all she needed, a concept, Maxi thought, as she almost danced down Fifth Avenue, in her red miniskirt, a smile on the perfect bow of her mouth. Just a new concept, merely a new, fresh concept that hadn’t already been done. That was all. As she sped by, every man who saw her ached to follow.

When Elie called in tonight she’d tell him that tomorrow morning she wanted him to make the rounds of all the newsstands in the city and bring her a copy of every single magazine on sale. She might as well know what was out there already before she invented her new magazine.

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