The She-Hulk Diaries

by Acosta, Marta

  Got home from work. Tried to microwave scrambled eggs for dinner. Bad idea. Tried to improve them with ketchup, a worse idea. Don’t have the willpower to go to a singles meet-up. I will die alone surrounded by court dockets in an apartment that smells like cat urine from the previous tenant because I won’t even have the time to hoard cats on my own.

  Once I was a sexy flesh-eating bacteria girl and now I am a ma’am. I only hope that Fritz won’t see the desperation on my face when I ask him out. Does that mean I have to sleep with him? He’s probably good at sex. I probably thought Ellis was outstanding at sex only because I’d been so inexperienced. The bar was set so low that any guy who had a rudimentary grasp of female anatomy seemed gifted. To give credit where credit is due, Ellis’s understanding of female anatomy was at the “class valedictorian,” not “mandatory summer school,” level.

  DEMURRER

  MARCH 16

  I am one month and two days into my resolutions and halfway (thirty days) to my sixty-day deadline to give Fritz an answer to his colleagues-with-benefits proposal.

  I just saw him walk down the hall and was gearing myself to go talk to him when Sven Morigi called, making me feel as if I was a death row prisoner getting the governor’s reprieve. (I don’t know why governors procrastinate until the last minute, because they could give timely reprieves and save everyone a truckload of anxiety.)

  “Dr. Morigi, hello!” I said, sounding way too reprieve-relieved.

  “Sven,” he corrected. “I’m glad I caught you.”

  “Why? Do you have any more information about ReplaceMax’s malfeasances?”

  “Actually, yes…. Can we discuss it over dinner?”

  I felt frazzled and grimy. “Or you can come in tomorrow and meet with me.”

  “I’m not available tomorrow. I’ll pick you up in ten minutes in front of your building.”

  Dinner with Sven could definitely be classified as balancing work and life. I said, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Dahlia had schooled me on fast makeover tips, and I twisted up my hair in a casual bun, blotted my shiny spots with powder tissues, and touched up my makeup.

  I raided my armoire for an ivory silk shell with ruffle trim so I’d look more feminine. I pulled on heeled boots, willing to take the risk to be stylish. I glanced in the mirror and thought I looked good, not as if I was trying too hard.

  I went downstairs exactly on time, just as a gleaming black Peugeot was pulling up. A large man in the front passenger seat jumped out to open the back door for me. I slid in beside Sven and noticed that the driver was also large. These men must be Sven’s guards.

  Sven was so beautiful that I went stiff with nerves when he gave me a kiss on each cheek, which might be the way Europeans conduct business. I have to check on their practices.

  He said, “I’m so pleased that you could tear yourself away from work. I hope you enjoy Hungarian food.”

  I told him I’d never had it and asked if his family was from Hungary.

  “We come from Central Europe and the borders changed frequently, but Hungarian is closest to our culture,” he said. “My family was nomadic, moving from place to place looking for a safe haven.”

  “Have you found a safe haven here in New York?”

  “I hope so, despite the Club Nice incident. Every time I see the Statue of Liberty, I remember my first visit here and how deeply moved I was at the sight. The skyscrapers and the streets teeming with life made me feel as if the entire city was a laboratory where I could conduct experiments that had never been imagined before.” He smiled. “I am a scientist, and so I see through a scientist’s eyes. I’m sure the experience was different for you.”

  “Yes, although I’m still dazzled by this city,” I said. “Is everything going all right with your guards? Do you feel secure?”

  “Indeed, and I look forward to a relaxing few hours with you, Jennifer.”

  The driver took us to MacDougal Street, and the other guard opened the back door for us. We got out in front of an old-time diner with boarded up windows. I looked around for the sort of fancy restaurant that someone like Sven would like, but he placed his hand on my elbow and guided me toward the closed diner.

  “Here we are,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I often miss food from my homeland, which is very difficult to find even in this metropolis. I keep this place for my dinners out.”

  One of the bodyguards opened the door for us.

  As Sven and I stepped inside, I saw a small, inviting room with dark red damask wallpaper, shimmering crystal sconces, and oxblood leather seating. Delicious aromas wafted from the kitchen, and I could hear the faint clang of pots and pans. On a small platform, a man in a folk costume played the guitar and sang a melancholy tune in what I guessed was Hungarian. I liked it a whole lot better than opera, and I awarded myself twenty culture points.

  A waiter greeted Sven and guided us to a table set with snowy linen, crystal, and silver. The old-fashioned luxury was very comfortable, and it was supercool to have the whole place to ourselves.

  “Sven, this is lovely!”

  “I’m glad it’s to your liking. It’s simpler than having the chef, Domonkos, come to my house, because he complains about the kitchen and argues with my housekeeper,” he said with a smile. “Also, I like to dine out—it’s different, isn’t it, than having a meal at one’s home?”

  “It is. You’ve devised a wonderful solution.”

  Sven signaled to the waiter. I watched his face in the candlelight. He was so good-looking it was almost spooky. Wine would definitely help my nerves, and I was grateful when the waiter filled our glasses.

  Sven looked me in the eyes, raised his glass, said “Egészségedre!” (which I have looked up to spell right). “It means to your health.”

  When I tried to repeat the word, he smiled and said, “ ‘Cheers’ will do. The mispronunciation is rather rude.”

  I hated when that happened. “Cheers, then.” I took a few quick sips of wine before trusting myself to ask him what important news he’d learned.

  “Only that you’re a most charming companion, Jennifer.”

  Whoa! Continental smoothie alert!

  “I apologize for using a pretext to draw you away from work. I feared that if I asked you out to dinner, you would decline.”

  “You’re my client, Dr. Morigi, so naturally I want to spend as much time with you as possible.” That was a slick response, right?

  “You’re calling me Dr. Morigi again. I’m tremendously attracted to you, Jennifer.”

  “I, um, ah…” I was quickly reviewing my requirements for my boyfriend goal. Even though Sven didn’t currently have a job, he was absolutely qualified. Okay, he hadn’t been especially funny so far, but that contingency could be waived because he was so OMG! amazingly gorgeous!

  “Surely this doesn’t surprise you, Jennifer. Men must fall at your feet.”

  I couldn’t say, “Only when I flip them over,” so I just smiled and said, “Sven, I really want to focus on your very important case.”

  “As you wish,” he said with a little nod of his head. “I wanted you to represent me because of your fine qualities as an attorney and an individual. I’m aware of all the charitable work you’ve done on behalf of the needy. The longer I live, the more I comprehend that kindness is a greater achievement than the acquisition of power. A court victory would mean nothing to me if I felt that my attorney didn’t truly believe in justice.”

  Perhaps it was the wine, but I said, “Ellis Quintal the Fourth urged me not to take this case. He’s friends with Max Kirsch and believes my only motive is financial.”

  Sven’s expression altered slightly, but I couldn’t tell what it meant. It was like when the optometrist asks me, “Which is clearer, A or B?” and the change is so imperceptible that I have no idea.

  He said, “Ms. Tumbridge’s engagement to Quintal Four was disclosed to me, and I’m assured that it will not interfere with her excellent work on
my behalf. It goes without saying that you won’t be swayed by his ignorant and hostile opinions.”

  If it went without saying, then why did Sven say it? “Certainly not. I’m fully committed to every client I represent. However, considering Ellis’s attitude, I was surprised that he stepped in to defend you at Club Nice.”

  Sven tilted his head and looked at me quizzically. “How did you know that?”

  “Um, I saw a video on the news when they managed to take time out of showing that Cute-Clip-of-the-Day about that frolicking rat.” I focused on the sheep’s cheese dip and said, “This cheese is delicious.”

  Sven’s lips seemed tense as he said, “Ms. Tumbridge strikes me as more than capable of making important decisions, so I’m sure marrying Quintal is ideal for her—but I’m glad you’re not the one engaged to him.”

  “Me? I don’t even like him,” I said too quickly. “I mean, I don’t know him well enough to have an opinion of him one way or another.”

  Sven’s eyebrows drew together. “He was raised in privilege, Jennifer. He really has no comprehension of what life is like for those who must earn their own way, people like us who succeed despite the odds.”

  It seemed a little unfair, so I said, “I would say that’s true if Ellis had joined his father’s firm, but science is a fiercely egalitarian field, and scientists are interested in results, not legacies. So far as I know, Ellis is well respected by his peers.”

  “Let’s speak no longer of him. Tell me about yourself. I want to know everything—where you’re living now and what led you into the law.”

  I told him the usual things, which seemed very dull when I edited out all the Shulky-related shenanigans. I desperately tried to think of something amusing. “One of my coworkers refuses to drink Joocey Jooce because she insists that something is wrong with the motto. She doesn’t think New Yorkers should be so nice.”

  He laughed. “It’s an interesting social experiment. However, most visitors to the city want to experience the New York attitude as much as see the sights. What inspired you to move to a city with such an aggressive character?”

  “I was offered a great job, and I saw the opportunity to start fresh here.”

  “Are you speaking of the violent death of your mother?”

  Even though news reports of Mom’s death are easy to find, I felt a little ooky that he’d looked them up. “There was that memory, and I wanted to live in a more intense city.”

  “Do you find your life satisfying here?”

  “Yes, especially right now as an attorney with a premier law firm, having dinner with my brilliant client, and about to embark on a truly challenging case.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that. You’ll forgive me if I treat this as more than a business engagement.”

  “Sven, I don’t date clients,” I said. I didn’t want him to think I was the kind of person who got involved with every client she defended, even though it had happened once a few times routinely, but only because it was the only way I ever met anyone.

  He said, “I know you’ve made exceptions in the past. Make an exception for me.”

  “Personal complications can impede the case.” For some reason I thought of Ellis accusing me of being bought.

  “If you prefer that I withhold my feelings for you until the conclusion of the trial, I’ll endeavor to do so. I make no promises, because I find your beauty and brilliance intoxicating.”

  I am not making this up. He actually said that. I had to dig my fingernails into my palms to stop my crazy urge to giggle. “I’m really very flattered, Sven.”

  “I only speak the truth.”

  I thought, Woohoo! I’ve got a serious PFLOML candidate, flowers and candles on the table, music, wine, romantic conversation—yep, I just completed my Valentine’s Day date goal! I’m totally back on schedule.

  As we ate yummy food (rich beef soup, chicken paprika, duck with fruit sauce, potatoes and onion, strudel and plum dumplings), Sven told me about the dishes and translated the lyrics of the folk songs. He was elegant and so relaxed that I began to relax. He was telling me a funny story about the donkey and cart he’d had as a child when my aPhone buzzed.

  “I’m so sorry, Sven, but I need to take this call. Please excuse me.”

  I went to the hallway near the restrooms, where I could talk privately. “Jen here. What’s up?”

  “Hi, Jen. Ruth said Shulky was available for anything in the area,” said the night dispatcher at the Mansion. “We’ve got a situation, and I know you don’t want to bothered, but the scanner says that you’re the closest to it.”

  He told me that an armed gunman had taken hostages on a tour bus and was demanding that his wife be moved up on an organ transplant list. The SWAT team didn’t want to risk charging in because of casualties.

  My first date datish thing in eons, I’m wearing sleek boots, and She-Hulk has an emergency! I asked, “How long do you think it will take?”

  “The bus is over by Sullivan and Prince.”

  Shulky could take care of it, and I could still be back in time for dessert. I returned to the table, apologized for the interruption, and said, “Sven, I need to dash out for a brief but urgent errand. If you don’t mind, I could be back soon.”

  “Not at all. It will give me the opportunity to have a glass of wine with Domokos. Would you like to take the car?”

  “No, it’s close by and I enjoy the night air. Back in a jiffy!”

  As soon as I was away from the watchful eyes of Sven’s guard on the street, I checked my aPhone for the closest passageway to the tunnel system. I hurried to the location and pressed my hand against a flat metal panel set into a brick wall. A hidden door slid open, and I ducked inside before it slid shut again.

  I stepped into a changing cubby, stripped off my clothes, and hung them on hooks beside the sign that said, YOUR MOTHER DOESN’T LIVE HERE. CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF.

  I sat on the bench and tugged off my boots, which took valuable extra seconds.

  I preferred to shift slowly and enjoy the transition, but now I was in a rush. I felt the disconcerting jolt as my body stretched and grew dense.

  Shulky didn’t bother with shoes, but raced down a flight of steps to the tunnel system. Her bare feet pounded toward her destination. She used another hidden door to exit onto the street and then picked up speed.

  Drivers on the street jammed on their brakes so they could stare. An SUV crashed into a cab, and Shulky used the damaged vehicles as stepping stones to cross the street.

  Ahead at an intersection, cops were pushing back a crowd of onlookers. A dozen cherry tops strobed in the night, and ambulances and fire engines idled nearby.

  “Coming through,” Shulky shouted, and she noticed that a big shiny tour bus had been parked at a crazy angle and was up on the curb with its front door open.

  Everyone turned toward her. “She-Hulk! Shulky’s here!”

  She couldn’t bask in their attention, because she was concerned by the police officers’ tense body language. The cops pointed her to Sergeant Denny Tavert.

  “She-Hulk! Thanks for coming.”

  “Denny, honey, we got to stop meeting like this. Where are the hostages?”

  “Hey, I’ll use any excuse to see you, sexy green mama. He’s got them in there.” Denny pointed across the street to a Joocey Jooce shop. The shop had its metal security gratings rolled down and blinds closed.

  “Joocey Jooce again,” She-Hulk said, and asked the sergeant for the details.

  Denny said, “He’s got about fifty hostages, plus the driver and a tour guide. His name is Burton Symonds, and he says he’s keeping them until his wife Bonnie is taken into surgery and given a new kidney. He left her at Bellevue ER before coming here.”

  “What about a back door or basement entrance?”

  Denny said, “It’s locked down. There’s a steel security door at the back, and the only entrance to the basement is through the shop. We’re scouting out the roof, but we don’t want to make Symond
s panic and turn the place into a shooting gallery. It’s got the standard Joocey Jooce layout.”

  “With so many hostages, he must be keeping them at the front of the shop. What’s next door?”

  “It’s a jewelry store, and the owner unlocked the door for us, but it’s got reinforced walls. Symonds would have lots of warning in the time it would take us to cut through them. He gave us an hour to give him an answer, and we’ve only got ten minutes left.”

  “That’s enough. Can you push this crowd farther back and provide a diversion so I can go in?”

  “Sure thing, She-Hulk. Do you want backup?”

  “Thanks, I can handle this, but keep the ambulances running.”

  Shulky edged into the shadow between two fire trucks and waited out of view. In seconds, a line of cops herded the crowd away, and the pump truck let loose with a blast of water in the other direction. While the onlookers watched the action, Shulky raced into the jewelry store, shutting the door behind her.

  She couldn’t hear anything through the reinforced walls, so she gave up on her brief flirtation with subtlety and delivered a powerful kick to the wall.

  The drywall shattered, beams splintered, and the steel caved. She swiftly punched out room for her head, and then barreled into the Joocey Jooce store so suddenly that the hostages gasped in unison.

  The young man with the AK-47 didn’t have time to aim before she’d plucked it up, momentarily suspending him from the weapon.

  Then he dropped and rolled on the floor. He swiftly pulled a Glock from his jacket. He jumped up and waved the gun wildly.

  She-Hulk leapt between the gunman and the terrified hostages, saying to them, “Everyone get out of here!”

  “I’ll shoot!” He pointed the gun at her, his arm shaking.

  “You can, Burt, but you’ll only piss me off. You really don’t want to piss me off.” She twisted her head and told the hostages, “I said, out!”

  Someone said nervously, “Uh, the door’s locked.”

  “Geez, just use the giant hole in the wall. Don’t pinch any of the jewelry. Tell Sergeant Talbert to give me five minutes.”