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to the elevator as well.
    When Singleton returned to her cubicle, the phones were ringing. Tabloids had been increasing their cash offers for interviews, to no effect. But then Singleton was surprised to answer the phone and have Mike Wallace’s secretary on the line.
    â€œI have Mr. Wallace on the phone for you,” she said.
    Singleton, feminist or no, was annoyed that he had made his secretary call, and worse, the woman referred to her boss as “Mr. Wallace,” whose voice was suddenly booming through the receiver.
    â€œHi, Becky,” he said.
    Two strikes, she thought. Becky? Not even Rebecca?
    â€œHow are we gonna get Jackie on 60 Minutes ?” Wallace asked.
    Singleton was completely unmoved—he had blown it at “hello”—and she was enjoying the fact that he was surprised by her solid refusal.
    Wallace wasn’t the only one who was off the mark calling her Becky. Once, she wistfully remarked to Jackie that she really preferred the name Rebecca. Jackie laughed, then told her that she had never really been fond of “Jackie,” and preferred Zhack-LEEN, the French pronunciation, but oh well. Regardless, they continued to refer to each other by Jackie and Becky and laughed about it.
    After Singleton hung up with Wallace, a regular gadfly was on the phone asking to speak with Jackie.
    â€œI’m sorry, she is not available,” Singleton said.
    â€œThen I would like a detailed description of what she’s wearing.”
    Singleton declined.
    The next caller said she wanted Jackie to know that a noted theater critic had parked his van in front of 1040 Fifth and was stealing her furniture. Singleton hung up.
    But one threat was serious enough to warrant the FBI to spend the day there just in case the person rang again. He didn’t.
    Not all of those seeking to meet Jackie were unstable. The author J. P. Donleavy made an appointment to see her, saying he was writing a book about fox hunting and could he speak to her about it? Jackie thought the request was odd, so she had Burn sit in on the meeting. But Burn had never fox hunted and so once she knew it was safe, Burn left them to talk. After Donleavy left, Jackie told Burn, “It was fine. I think he just wanted to meet me.” 9
    Jackie wasted no time settling into a routine and attempting to stifle any perception that she was a dilettante. 10 She arrived by taxi between 9:30 and 10:00 AM , greeted the receptionist on the sixteenth floor—“Good morning, Patty,” “Good morning, Mrs. Onassis”—and then said hello to Singleton.
    â€œGood morning, Becky!”
    â€œGood morning, Jackie.”
    She poured her own coffee into a paper cup with a plastic holder. There was an office rule: the first person in had to brew the coffee. One morning, Richard Barber, director of publicity at Viking, arrived to find Jackie wrestling on the floor with a bag of coffee trying to open it. She sheepishly handed it him. He opened it. And then she took it back to brew a pot for the office. 11
    Back at her desk, the in-box would be stuffed with manuscripts that Singleton had screened to weed out the bad and the crafty—those seeking some sort of autographed response.
    Singleton complained to Jackie about these blatant attempts to get a response just to say they got one from Jackie.
    â€œOK,” Jackie said, about to show her sense of humor. “These ones that are really important or supposedly important, you sign those and I’ll sign some of yours.”
    They forged each other’s signatures until they each got very good at it. Singleton shredded the little notes that Jackie sent her, such as “Write him ‘no’” or “Tell him ‘yes.’” She didn’t want anyone fishing through the wastebasket for a memento.
    Singleton also screened her calls. Whenever a rumor rippled through the media, the switchboard would light up.
    â€œIs it true that Jackie is