Trust Me on This - Jennifer Crusie [7]
“Yeah, I want you to go after Bond directly too. It would help if we could nail him in the act.” There was a long silence, and Alec waited patiently. “You know any college professors?” Harry asked finally.
“I was hoping you’d ask,” Alec said. “My aunt Victoria is brave, honest, intelligent, unpredictable, and here. And the good news is, the brunette is already scoping her out. We won’t even have to plant her; they’re already on her scent.”
“Unpredictable is bad,” Harry growled. “Not that all women aren’t. Don’t you know any guy professors?”
Alec frowned at the phone. “Hell, Harry, I just gave you a perfectly good professor who’s already a mark. You want a custom job, get one yourself.”
“I better go there,” Harry said. “I’ll fly out tonight. Keep your eyes open, and concentrate on the woman until I get there.”
“No problem,” Alec said. “She is definitely worth concentrating on.”
The Ivy Room was a restaurant, Dennie found out, and the walls dividing the room from the lobby and the booths from one another were open brass lattice woven with brass ivy leaves. Janice Meredith hadn’t been hard to spot as the place was almost deserted in the middle of the afternoon. Dennie slid into the next booth and watched out of the corner of her eye through the lattice as the three women talked.
One was a dumpy little grandmother with a full head of tight blue curls; one was a white-haired, bright-eyed, midsized dynamo; and one—the one with her back to Dennie—was a regal presence, her hair styled in an elegant black razor cut feathered with white. They were all wearing expensive suits and expensive perfume, and they all looked like success. The only one Dennie recognized was the one with the razor cut. Janice Meredith.
“Are you really all right, Janice?” the dynamo was saying. “Don’t be a martyr with us.”
“Victoria, I am not now nor have I ever been a martyr,” Janice Meredith said. “I’ve been better, but I’m doing fine. My marriage died, not my child.”
“That’s very true,” the blue-haired woman said. “How is Maggie?”
“I know it’s just your marriage, but it still hurts,” Victoria said. “I remember.”
“Well, hurt is better than no feeling at all,” Janice said. “In a way, this is good. I think I was having it all too easy.”
“And Charles, Junior? How is Charles, Junior?” the blue-haired one went on.
“Never mind that, Trella,” Victoria said. “This is serious. Now listen to me, Janice, if you’re going to say something about this as a growth experience, you can forget it. Women our age don’t need growth experiences.”
“Oh, yes, we do,” Janice said. “We need to keep taking chances, or we stagnate. Especially women our age. I don’t think this divorce is my fault—”
“Good,” Victoria muttered.
“Just one of those things,” Trella murmured aimlessly.
“—but I don’t think I was doing much to save my marriage, either. I was comfortable. So I didn’t pay attention.”
“This is not your fault,” Victoria began, outrage in her voice.
“So this is really good for me,” Janice went on serenely. “It’s my wake-up call. I’ve only been doing the easy things. I’ve been in a rut. I need to take some risks, fail a little. I really believe that if you’re not failing now and then, you’re not trying hard enough. Failure says, well, at least you’re living. You’re stretching.” She cocked her head at Victoria. “I’m planning on doing a lot more failing in the future. And a hell of a lot more succeeding too. I’ll be fine.”
“The worst thing about being your friend is constantly feeling inferior to you,” Victoria said. “You’re right, of course, but isn’t there at least a tiny little part of you that wants to castrate Charles Meredith with a dull spoon?”
“Victoria, really,” Trella said.
“Why don’t we change the subject?” Janice said, patting Trella’s hand. “How are the grandchildren, Trella?”
Dennie sank back away from the lattice and stared into space. That’s my interview, she thought. She could hang the whole thing on the risking quote. Any other woman might bend under the weight of what Janice Meredith was going through, but she was going to go out and risk