“Right.”
When Jane left the building, the sun was shining, the mountain was out, and life was pretty darn good. As she walked down John Street toward her Honda, she allowed herself to feel a few moments of triumph. Whether the guys working the sports beat wanted to or not, they had to take her seriously now. Or at least they couldn’t easily dismiss her as the bimbo who wrote the silly Single Girl columns. An interview with Luc would get picked up by the Associated Press, and they would all know it. She didn’t delude herself that this would make things easier for her in the newsroom. The opposite might happen, but she didn’t really care. She’d gotten the interview that all of them would have killed to get.
Yep, life was pretty good today. Yesterday had been a different story. Yesterday she’d sat at home staring at the telephone like she was fifteen again, waiting for it to ring. After she’d left the Key Arena Sunday night, she’d been positive Luc would call her. After he’d pulled her into the janitor’s closet and made her rethink her decision not to have sex with him anymore, she’d half expected him to call or show up on her doorstep. She’d thought they’d made a personal connection, that they’d talked about something important, something other than her underwear, and she’d been sure he’d contact her.
He hadn’t, and as she’d sat on her couch watching birds mate on the Discovery Channel, she’d discovered that falling in love with Luc was the dumbest thing she’d ever done. Of course, she’d known the stupidity of it weeks before it had actually happened, but she’d been powerless against it.
Jane drove to the Laundromat and shoved her dirty clothes into four washing machines. Beneath her suit, she wore a pair of days-of-the-week panties. It was Tuesday, and she had on Saturday’s. Not that it really mattered, she supposed. But it did illustrate her life at the moment.
While she watched her clothes tumble dry, Darby called her cell phone and asked her advice. It seemed that he too had fallen for someone unattainable.
“Do you think Caroline would go out with me?” he wanted to know.
“I don’t know. How did the drink with her go?” she asked, even though Caroline had called her the next morning with the gory details. The evening had started out okay but had taken a nosedive.
“I don’t think I impressed her much.”
“You told her about being a member of Mensa.”
“So?”
“I told you not to do that. Those of us with average intelligence don’t want to hear about your big brain.”
“Why?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you want to hear Brad Pitt brag about how good-looking he is?”
“It’s not the same.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No. Brad doesn’t have to brag about his looks. Everyone can see that he’s good-looking.”
Hmm. He was right about Brad. “Okay. How about a porn star? Do you want to hear a porn star brag about his huge package?”
“No.”
She switched the phone to her other ear. “Look, if you want to impress women, especially Caroline, don’t tell her how smart you are. Let it come out subtly.”
“I’m not very good at being subtle.”
He wasn’t kidding. “Caroline will be impressed with a guy who knows what wine to order.”
“Isn’t that kind of gay?”
And the flaming skull shirt wasn’t? “No. Take her somewhere nice.”
“And she’ll go?”
“Make it someplace really nice. Caroline loves to dress up. Always has.” She thought a moment and asked, “Are you a member of the Columbia Tower Club?”
“Yes.”
She’d thought so. “Take her there. It will give her a reason to wear her latest Jimmy Choos. And if she starts talking about shoes and fashion, pretend you’re interested.”
“I’m into designer fashions,” he said.
Jane smiled. “Good luck.” After she hung up, she called Caroline at Nordy’s and warned her that Darby would be calling. She was surprised that her friend didn’t have stronger objections to a date with him.