I watched Ryan talking to other girls, who were laughing and touching his arms and shoulders. I was trying to steel myself to talk to him again, but when I looked for him after the round, he was nowhere to be seen.
I found Nelson and said, “Sorry about that. I didn’t know they would be doing this.”
He shrugged and said, “My T-shirt would probably smell like cinnamon mouthwash and Old Spice deodorant anyway. Did you meet anyone you liked?”
“Yes, but he vanished, so I guess he wasn’t interested in me. Do you see anyone you want to talk to so I can wingman for you?”
“I’d rather wait. I learned that the next meet-up is an Italian cooking class, and I’m a pretty good cook.”
While Nelson went to get our coats, I read flyers for upcoming events just to have something to do. That’s when I felt someone’s arm come from around my right shoulder to grab my left shoulder.
I acted instantly—grabbing the forearm with both hands, throwing my hips back out to unbalance my assailant, and bending forward quickly to flip him over my head and flat onto the reception table.
Ryan crashed down with a loud cry, and everything on the table smashed to the marble floor. A girl shrieked and the pot-and-chocolate guy said, “Dude!”
I said, “I’m sorry, Ryan! Oh, my god, I’m so sorry!”
A man rushed forward and said, “I’m a doctor! Don’t move him,” and someone else said, “You’re a dermatologist.”
I tried to help Ryan, but he was groaning and saying, “My back! Keep her away from me.”
While I was hovering nearby, a man in a dark blue suit appeared with the event organizer. He looked as if he was there in an official capacity, and I said, “He surprised me…”
Nelson tried to help by saying, “It wasn’t her fault. She’s got multiple black belts and was only reacting!”
“I’m trained to subdue,” I said quickly.
The man in the blue suit reached toward me, and Nelson added, “And also trained to kill!” and the man pulled back his hand.
His voice was low, but firm, and he said, “I’d like you to come down to our security office for a moment. You can give us your version of what happened there.”
Nelson was nice enough to wait for me, and luckily a security camera had caught Ryan sneaking up on me with a flirty grin on his face. When the doctor (dermatologist) reported that Ryan was fine and Ryan himself confirmed that he wasn’t going to press charges, I was escorted out of the office and told, “Ma’am, we do not tolerate violence and we ask that you not return.”
Ma’am! Rubber chickened once again.
Nelson suggested a bistro right there on West 44th. I was skeptical that it could be any good and doubted that we’d get a table. The owner was Nelson’s patient, though, and offered a small table in a corner. The mussels and sea bass were wonderful. As we shared a chocolate soufflé, I told Nelson about the allure of the pothead who smelled like chocolate, and he said he was going to put unwrapped Hershey’s kisses and medicinal marijuana in his pockets the next time he tried to meet women.
As we parted ways, he said, “At least we tried going out and meeting people, and it wasn’t as bad as the first time I met you.”
“We’ll have to iron out the bugs in our technique so that we’re not harassing or assaulting potential dates. I’ll see you at the Forestiers fight practice.”
“I don’t think you need any practice fighting, Jen.”
“I need practice not to break someone’s back. Do you have a game name yet?”
“The Gnashing Newt. I’m a spy who sneaks around and is always playing one side against the other, and is a talented strategist. I can slide in and out of places almost invisibly. Also, I love festivities and play the lute, which I actually do, almost. I’m teaching myself, but I play guitar. What about you?”
“I’m LadyGreene, whose lands have been stolen, but her family is cold-blooded, so she sides with the peasants. She has healing powers and is a fierce swordswoman, and she’s always hiding out from her power-mad ex.”
It wasn’t until I was halfway home that I realized that Nelson hadn’t spoken in questions, which was a good thing. Another good thing was that Ryan had come to flirt with me. Maybe my negotiation tactic worked!
The bad things: Blacklisted from yet another hotel. Unjustly ma’amed. Nearly killed a PFLOML.
FEBRUARY 11
VALENTINE’S DAY RESOLUTION
COUNTDOWN: 3 DAYS!
I was already expecting to spend Valentine’s Day alone when I went to Quinty’s weekly meeting. After we’d given our case updates, Quinty cleared his throat, set his monocle in, and scrunched his eye to hold it in place. Why a monocle?
“We’ll expect everyone to be here for our annual Valentine’s Day party on Saturday,” he said, and directed a smile to me. “I was so preoccupied starting this firm that I didn’t realize our first official day of business was Valentine’s Day until I got home and my wife reminded me—in no uncertain terms! Since then we’ve always celebrated QUIRC’s anniversary on Valentine’s Day so my wife is assured of a celebration. You’re welcome to bring a plus-one.”
Woohoo! Now I have something to do on Valentine’s Day!
All I have to do is find a suitable office-party date. It won’t have the heavy romantic implications of asking someone to dinner. What attorney wouldn’t jump at the chance to network at QUIRC? This will be a piece of cake!
11:30 A.M.
I called an associate at GLKH, but he’d gotten engaged.
Subsequent invitations were declined for these reasons: out of the country, didn’t remember me, had square dancing class that night, wanted to know if his mother could come, too. “Mom’s lots of fun. You’ll love her!”
I told him that I was sorry, but I was only allowed one guest.
Most of the guys at the Mansion were serious and accomplished, so I called Ruth to ask who was around. My phone call rolled over to the main switchboard and the operator said, “Hi, Ms. Walters. Ruth is busy helping decorate the ballroom for our big Valen—I mean, she’s running errands. If this is urgent, I’m happy to help!”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “Tell her that I’m, uhm, sending over some Joocey Jooce coupons to share with the volunteers.”
Quinty said I could bring a plus-one, not that I should bring a plus-one. After all, he’d forgotten about Valentine’s Day because he was engrossed in QUIRC.
Called Dahlia:
ME: Woohoo! The office is having a Valentine’s Day slash Anniversary Party so technically I have a datish-thing for Valentine’s Day, which was my goal.
D: Your goal was a real date, which I thought you postponed very bogusly.
ME: I believe my resolutions should abide by the spirit of the law, not the letter of the law. If I have a datish thing on Valentine’s Day and I get a real date within my allotted time period, I have more than fulfilled the requirements of the goal.
D: Save it for the courtroom. Who are you taking as your plus-one?
ME: The only appropriate guys for this sort of thing are unavailable. I don’t mind going solo.
D: Then Ellis Tesla will think you’re a sad old spinster. Ginster, the spinster. Gin, the old maid, who once I did laid.
ME: If you think I need a date so much, you can come with me and pretend to be my sexy lesbian lover.
D: While I love being your wacky ethnic sidekick, I have a starring role in my own life. I’ve got several offers, but have yet to decide upon the lucky bastard. Be sure to look OMG! amazing so Ellis knows what he’s missing. Come by the salon beforehand and we’ll give you the works.
ME: One, I don’t condone cheap ploys to manipulate men. Two, Ellis doesn’t matter to me, Dahlia, rhymes with—whatever. And, three, is 5:30 okay?
FEBRUARY 13
VALENTINE’S DAY RESOLUTION
COUNTDOWN: 1 DAY!
I ordered a gourmet gift basket for Donner and a collection of cat-motif potholders and tea towels for Ruth. I also bought a KEEP H
ANGING IN THERE! mug for Nelson. I feel that I’ve got a firm grip on this usually knotty holiday. I’m a month ahead on points for my goals, and the QUIRC party will give me 50 more points. It would have been 100 with a date, but a date was only part of that specific goal.
Now that I’ve developed romantic mediation skills, I should have a real actual boyfriend very, very soon. Next up: finding a fantastic apartment!
PROMISSORY ESTOPPEL
FEBRUARY 14
Woke up thinking back to Valentine’s Day when I was with Tony. He asked me what I wanted and I told him that I’d never been to Paris. He said he’d take me for the weekend, and I actually thought he would. However, with Tony it was always Sorry, babe, I had to save the planet from imminent destruction and got sidetracked. For some reason, petite bombshells were always critical to the world-saving process.
I am taking responsibility for my own fantastic Valentine’s Day.
I left for work early enough to buy flowers for the HR manager and the receptionist. Bouquets and gift baskets covered their desks, and everything looked cheerful. As I walked by the conference rooms, I saw caterers already rearranging furniture and decorating for the party.
I was at my desk, studying ReplaceMax patient histories, when an enormous basket of flowers arrived with a bottle of champagne and a huge box of chocolates. The card inside said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, your favorite cousin!” It was awful sweet of Bruce, so I sent him a thank-you message.
As people walked by my office, they glanced through the glass partition and noticed the big arrangement, and I worried that they might assume a boyfriend had sent them and that he’d be coming to the party.
I tried out one of Dr. Alvarado’s stoopid affirmation exercises by whispering to myself, “I’m a successful attorney who has wonderful friends and was raised by loving, kind parents. I live in a beautiful loft in a fantastic city. I’ve dated brilliant men! I am Azzan’s best student, and I have a fantastic wash-and-wear hairstyle! People care about me, Jennifer Susan Walters, and I care about them, too!”
After work, I hurried home and changed into my new dark scarlet dress. It hugged me in all the right places, and a verse from a Fringe Theory song, “Gin in Degrees,” came to me:
I don’t suppose
You would take off your clothes
And throw those golden legs higher
They are the protractor
Measuring the precise angle
Of my unyielding desire
I rushed to Dahlia’s salon, and she arranged my hair in an updo and told me about her own plans for dinner, dancing, and nakedness with a waiter-actor-whatever. Another stylist applied my makeup and finished it with a spritz of what she called “makeup shellac. You can go out in a blizzard and still look perfect.”
Dahlia stood back and looked at me. “My little girl is all growed up!” she said, and clasped her hands to her breast.
“Thanks, and you have a wonderful time, too, tonight. Be safe.”
“I will. Besides, men don’t mess with a girl who has a deep understanding of how to use razor-sharp tools,” she said. “I still expect you to go out on an actual date within your bogus deadline.”
We had started bickering re: the alleged bogusness of my deadline when I realized I had to leave, so I gave her a smooch good-bye.
I hadn’t needed to rush, because I was one of the first to arrive. I left my coat and tote in my office before going to the conference room, which had been opened up to the adjoining room. Strings of twinkly pink lights and pretty flowers transformed the space. A long buffet had been set up, but, lesson learned, I didn’t touch any of the delicious treats that might have gushy innards.
A cute waitress said, “Happy Valentine’s Day!” and I said, “Same to you!” and she served me a glass of a sparkling pinot noir that was exactly the right pink for my datish night.
I stood near the window, staring out at the myriad lights. I thought this was the most heartbreakingly beautiful skyline I’d ever seen on any planet. When I looked out on it, I felt that everything was possible. I didn’t know if the Parisian skyline was better. I remembered my date liaison hookup with Ellis and how we’d looked out at the night sky and he’d asked me if I spoke French.
“Why?” I’d asked.
“We’re touring Europe and spending a week in Paris. Come with me. Take a few months off school. We’ll have the time of our lives. Don’t give me an answer now. Talk to your faculty advisor and tell me next month.”
Now it seems utterly insane that I was seriously thinking about taking a leave of absence from UCLA Law School in order to be Ellis’s on-the-road concubine. I should be totally grateful that he never called.
Then I heard voices in the hallway, and a moment later more guests arrived. The women wore lovely red and pink dresses and the men wore suits. I wished I could remember their names, but I smiled and said hi.
Quinty was the next to appear. He wore a navy pin-striped suit and his monocle was in place. “Hello, Jennifer! Why, don’t you look pretty. My right to compliment women is grandfathered into my contract. It’s called the Grandfather Clause.”
“Good evening, sir.”
As my coworkers began filling the room, he told me his wife was always late and asked if I’d brought a date.
I thought about my negotiating tactics and positioned myself as a high-value individual. I said, “I came on my own, sir, so that other employees might get to know me on a one-on-one basis.”
“Didn’t want to bore your boyfriend, eh? Can’t say as I blame you. I think talking about QUIRC is endlessly fascinating, but my wife assures me that other people get tired of listening to me. Enjoy yourself before you sneak off for a romantic rendezvous!”
I smiled at him, a confident businesslike smile. “If you want to talk about QUIRC, I’m happy to listen endlessly.”
He shook his head and said, “They all say that at first…” and then he strolled off.
I was feeling rather swell that I’d been so smooth about singlehood. And then Amber Hammerhead walked in with Ellis Tesla.
She wore the same suit she’d had on earlier. Ellis wore a black suit and his hair was brushed neatly. He seemed taller and more elegant than I remembered, but elegant in a manly way, as if his girlfriend had chosen his clothes because he was too macho to shop.
He had his hand on Amber’s shoulder, and they looked like the ideal Manhattan couple, the sort who have magazine spreads about their vacations, renovations, and charities. They looked like the type of people who would have adorable, accomplished children and fantastic, impressive friends.
Then I remembered that I had a fantastic living space, did fantastic charitable work, and had fantastic friends. In fact, my friends were so fantastic that “fantastic” was right in their name. It’s too bad that Shulky’s antics have caused a rift in our relationships. I’m sure it’s just temporary.
While I was mulling over my friends’ fantasticness, I noticed that the women in colorful dresses were assistants and clerical staff. All of the female attorneys wore dark power suits. I saw Genoa across the room, and she was dutifully wearing a navy skirt and jacket. I waved to her and she smiled and waved back.
One of the partners’ husbands introduced himself and said, “What a pretty dress! Are you Marie’s temp—I know her assistant’s out on maternity leave.”
“No, I’m Jennifer—” I began, but he cut me off saying, “Very nice meeting you, Jenny. Now, don’t let these lawyers intimidate you. I know I always tell Marie to remember that the administrative staff have lives outside the office. Where’s your date?”
“I came on my own.”
“Well, there are plenty of dating websites. Anyone can find a match!” he said. “Excuse me, I’ve got to see how the sitter is doing. Kids, huh?”
It went on like that, so I was actually grateful when Fritz Durning approached. In his narrow-fitting suit and buzz-cut hair, he looked almost aerodynamic. He said, “Hi, Jennifer. Rescue me from being harassed
by all the couples. I think we’re the only singles here.”
I glanced down at his wedding band and said, “I didn’t know you were single.”
“I’ve been legally separated for three years. My wife lives in Connecticut with the kids. It works for our family. This place doesn’t leave me much time for a relationship even if I wanted one.” He looked a little abashed.
“Most people don’t understand how all-consuming our jobs are. We can’t just take the day off or meet up with friends at five…” I said.
“Or call in sick because we want to sleep in, or throw the case because we hate the client.” He looked me up and down. “You look amazing. What do you do to keep in shape?”
I appreciated the compliment, probably more because he said it in a matter-of-fact jock-to-jock way. “I practice several martial arts, but please don’t try to sneak up on me, because I have a tendency to react.”
“You care to elaborate?”
I told him how I’d flipped Ryan over at the singles meet-up, and he laughed. “Actually, I knew about your martial arts, but I want to know more. I’ve got a home gym, and I compete in triathlons. I run the stairs here when I have breaks, and I’m on a basketball team with other lawyers, the Badgerers. There’s a whole lot of trash talk.”
He made me laugh, and I said, “I played basketball in high school. The assumption was that I’d be good because I was tall. I lasted all of one month.”
“You ran cross-country, right? We should go running when the weather warms up.”
“I’m always happy to have a running partner—if you can keep up.” Hey, I was flirting!
That’s when Fritz placed his hand on my back, low at the waist, and leaned close to whisper, “Not only can I keep up, but if you want something more—something to work off the energy without interfering in our careers, I’m your man and can provide a clean bill of health from my physician.”
The She-Hulk Diaries Page 11