Trust Me on This - Jennifer Crusie [3]
“I’m sorry.” Patience tossed her purse on her desk. “I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff last night. It was none of my business.”
“No, I’m glad you did.” Dennie took a deep breath. “I thought about it all night, and you’re right. The most exciting thing in my life is Walter. And Walter’s a Yorkie.”
“Look, I’m right about my life.” Patience dropped into her desk chair. “I couldn’t take dating those safe boring guys you have twisted around your finger—”
“I know,” Dennie said.
“—or reporting on the same damn stuff every day even if you are the best in the world at it—”
“I know,” Dennie said.
“—or working for Taylor for twelve years, and how you’ve stood that, I’ll never know—”
“Patience, I know,” Dennie said. “We had this discussion last night.”
“—but you’re not living my life,” Patience finished. “So who am I to judge?”
“My best friend for my whole life?” Dennie said. “That’s somebody to judge. And you’re right. I thought about it, and you’re right. But I can’t change bosses, men, and careers at the same time, so I decided to focus on one.”
“Oh, thank God,” Patience said, sinking back in her chair. “You’re quitting here and leaving Taylor behind.”
“Well, no,” Dennie said. “I need things like rent and health insurance. I have to stay with Taylor for a while. And I can’t handle dating complicated men right now, so I’m just going to give men up entirely until I get the career thing under control. That’s where I’m making my change.” Dennie leaned forward and Patience did, too, until their heads were as close as the desks between them would allow. “I have a lead on this story.” Dennie glanced over her shoulder, but no one in the room was paying them any attention. “Janice Severs Meredith is speaking at the Popular Literature Conference in Riverbend next weekend.”
“Who’s Janice Severs Meredith? No, wait.” Patience held up her hand. “Janice Meredith. She wrote The Feminist Marriage, right? And Redefining Relationships? I heard her speak once. She’s brilliant.”
“She’s also getting a divorce,” Dennie said, and Patience gaped. “I know. I found out about it last week. It’s still very hush-hush, but it’s due to break anytime now. And I want the interview.”
“How did you find out?”
“I was interviewing this writer who was in town doing a book signing. Twenty, beautiful, but with the brain of a cranberry. She writes about the depth of angst in the twenty-something set.” Dennie rolled her eyes. “She wouldn’t know angst if it bit her. Anyway, I was getting nowhere with her, so I asked her about the writers who had inspired her, and she said that her future husband was her biggest influence and her biggest admirer. So I said, ‘Future husband?’ and she said, ‘Yes,’ and he was very intellectual because he had two books on The New York Times bestseller list right now.”
“Charles Meredith,” Patience said.
“Well, that’s what I said, and then she frowned and said that I couldn’t say anything because he hadn’t told his wife yet.”
“Ouch.”
Dennie nodded. “Like I said, the brains of a cranberry. And evidently the morals of a mink. So now all I have to do is track Janice Meredith down.”
“And drop this bomb on her?” Patience looked horrified. “You wouldn’t.”
“No, of course I wouldn’t,” Dennie said. “He must have told her by now, especially since Tallie dropped the bomb on me.”
“Tallie?”
“The future Mrs. Meredith. I promise, I’ll be careful not to hurt her. But”—Dennie swallowed—“I’m going to get this story. You were right. I’ve been stagnating, only writing inconsequential stories because I didn’t have to go after them, because I was afraid I’d fail. This one is important, and it’s going to be tough, but I’m getting it.”
Patience looked as if she had reservations. “So you’re just going to walk right up to her and say, ‘So, Janice, about this divorce?’ ”
“No, of course not.” Dennie frowned. “That would be cruel and I don’t want to hurt her, she’s going through enough. But she’s had such a huge impact on modern marriage, and what she has to say about divorce is going to be even