An Ex to Grind (13 page)

I rolled my eyes. "What about her job? Or is she too busy spreading good cheer to work?"

"She's a massage therapist."

I flung the photo onto the coffee table. "Come on. We need one who can support Dan, not just knead his sore muscles."

"Why?
You're
supporting Dan."

"Yeah, but I was hoping I wouldn't have to support both of them for three months."

"What's three months of supporting
them
compared to seven years of supporting
him
?."

She had a point.

"I know my business," said Desiree. "The fact that Jelly's even heard of Dan is a plus. Some of the others didn't have a clue."

I picked up the photo and looked at it again. "Dan and Jelly, huh? Sounds like a sandwich a child would eat."

She checked her watch and sighed heavily. "We've been at this an hour. What's the holdup?"

I didn't know why I was hesitating. I wanted to get this show on the road more than anything, but for some reason I was having trouble making a decision. "Swear to me that she was never in a loony bin."

"I swear."

"Now swear that she doesn't have any jilted boyfriends who were in a loony bin."

"I swear. Look, it's your call, but I'd give her a shot."

The following Tuesday morning at ten, Jelly bounced over to the reception desk at Manhattan Body and Fitness, signed up to use the treadmill, and watched for Dan to make his entrance. I know this because I was hovering outside, on the street, my nose pressed against the wall-to-wall window. Yeah, I felt pathetic, but less pathetic than if I'd gone there in disguise, which is what I'd contemplated and then dismissed as being utterly out of character. (I was the killjoy who would never even wear costumes to Halloween parties.) What was I doing there when Desiree promised she'd call me with all the details after she spoke to Jelly? I was dying to witness the very first of our fix-ups for myself, that's what. Wouldn't you feel the same way if you were in my situation?

What I could make out from my post outside the gym—my breath kept fogging up the window and I had to keep wiping it clear with the sleeve of my coat—was that as soon as Dan walked into the room in his gym shorts and Giants T-shirt, Jelly hopped off the treadmill and zoomed over to him.

I couldn't hear their conversation, obviously, but she said something and he said something and she smiled and he smiled. Then she said something and he laughed, like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard, and I thought, Wow, wouldn't it be wild if I nailed him with the first one? I know, I know. A two-minute exchange
wasn't the stuff of long-term relationships, but it was better than a total kiss-off.

I continued to play the stalker until my cell phone blared the "William Tell Overture."

I reached into my purse and grabbed it, irritated by the interruption.

"What?" I hissed into the phone.

"It's Steffi," said my assistant. "I'm standing outside Ornbacher's suite at the Waldorf. Did you forget that Gary's here to meet with him about his taxes?"

"Oh, God." I hadn't forgotten about the meeting exactly. I'd spent the previous night preparing for it, even calling Gary, our top CPA, at home to discuss it. I'd assumed I would simply pop over to the gym, take a quick look at Dan and Jelly to see if they were clicking, and be at the hotel before the meeting started.

"When they called to ask where you were, I figured I should run over here myself. I saw your folder on your desk when I came in this morning, so I brought it with me. I can refer to your notes."

"Great. But I really should be there too," I said, my stomach in knots. "Can you stall them a little?"

"I'll try," she said.

"You're a lifesaver," I said. "I'll get there as fast as I can, I promise."

"Don't stress about it," she said, always my steady backup. "Where are you, by the way?"

"I'm—" I trusted Steffi, as I've said. She was more than my right hand. She was the young woman I'd once been—smart and industrious and willing to do whatever it took to advance within the company, no matter how menial the task. Still, I couldn't possibly
explain to her that I was spying on my ex-husband and the woman I was trying to shove down his throat. "I'm—coming," I said vaguely and hung up.

I lingered for a few seconds, unable to tear myself away from Dan and Jelly, before finally getting into a cab. As I was leaving, they were still chatting up a storm, smiling and laughing, laughing and smiling.

My God, I thought. If he really liked her—

Well, the mere prospect made me so giddy I tipped the cab driver an extra five dollars.

I got out at the Waldorf and told the front desk clerk at the exclusive Towers wing of the hotel that I needed the suite number for Mr. Ornbacher.

"Name?" asked the clerk, a handsome young blond man who looked eerily like Dan. Or was I just having a psychotic break?

"Melanie Banks," I said. "I'm late and they're expecting me up there, so could you just—"

"I see your name on the list, Ms. Banks, but the meeting's over," he said.

I dropped my briefcase onto the marble floor. "Over?"

"There's nobody up there. I saw Mr. Ornbacher leave about five minutes ago."

I just stood at the desk staring at the guy. Not speaking. Not moving. Not breathing.

"Ms. Banks?" he said, snapping me out of my stupor.

"Yes. Right. The meeting's over," I said.

I picked up my briefcase. It felt heavy suddenly, as if there were weights in it. How could a morning that had gotten off to such a promising start go so terribly wrong?

When I arrived at the office, I thanked Steffi for saving my ass by going to the meeting in my place.

"You're very welcome," she said. "But Jed was upset that you weren't there."

"How upset?"

"He said to tell you he was beginning to think—and I quote—'that gal's twenty-four/seven speech was bullshit.'"

"Oh, God. I should have called him on my cell and given him the family emergency story again."

"Was there a family emergency?" she asked tentatively, as if she didn't want to accuse me of lying. She was so respectful.

"I'm trying very hard to settle a sticking point in my divorce" was how I phrased my answer.

She nodded. "I'm here if you need me. But
please
be on time for your eleven-thirty with Bernie."

Bernie. Oh. Normally, I looked forward to my Tuesday meetings with him. It was my weekly opportunity for a one-on-one with him, my chance to tout my accomplishments without interruption. But on this particular Tuesday, I didn't have much to tout, except the possible match between my ex and Desiree's client, and I doubted he'd want to hear about that.

Nevertheless, the meeting got under way in his office at eleven-thirty on the dot. He'd heard about the Waldorf incident, and instead of launching into his usual diatribe about interest rates and the tyranny of Alan Greenspan, he reiterated how concerned he was about my recent distractions.

"You were the one who made the pitch to Jed that sealed the deal," he said, "so I'm inclined to keep you on his account."

"Keep me—" How could there be any doubt that Jed was mine? I was Pierce, Shelley's top gun. Of course I would stay on the account. Yes, I'd screwed up a couple of times, but I'd do better. As soon as Dan was no longer a drain on my—

"Did you find a professional to help you deal with the alimony thing?" said Bernie.

"Yes," I said.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"It's still early, but I'm giving it everything I've got."

To prove the point, I dashed out of his office right after the meeting and called Dan on his cell. Perhaps he and Jelly were still at the gym. Perhaps they were sipping power juices and exchanging phone numbers. Perhaps they were making plans to live together for ninety days. I had to know, had to stay on top of the situation.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hi, it's Melanie," I said.

"What did I do this time?" he said.

"Do?" I had to think of a reason for the call. A good reason, not necessarily an honest reason. "Buster's been itching and scratching since you dropped him off yesterday," I lied, buying time until he dropped a clue about Jelly. "Did you give him his flea and tick medicine?"

"Same as always. Maybe he's got an allergy to you, darlin'."

"Very funny." Pause. "Gosh, have I caught you at the gym?"

"I gave you my schedule, Mel. You know exactly where I am."

"It must have slipped my mind. Are you, um, with a trainer?"

"Nope," he said.

"All by yourself?"

"Nope."

"So you're with someone?"

"Is that why you called? To play Twenty Questions?"

"I was just curious, because of Buster. Maybe the person you're with knows about dogs and why they scratch themselves if there's no flea and tick problem."

"Hang on, I'll ask her."

Her
! Be still, my heart!

And then I heard him ask his companion, "Are you a dog person, Jelly?"

Well, I nearly did a cartwheel right there in the hall. So he liked her enough to still be talking to her! What a great, great start!

"Hey, Dan?" I said.

"Just a second. I'm asking her—"

"Never mind. I'm in the middle of my workday, so I've gotta run."

I hung up beaming. I stuck the phone in my pocket, picked my head up, and swaggered down the hall, to my office. My mood change must have been obvious because Steffi remarked that I looked more relaxed than I had in a while.

"Things have taken a favorable turn," I said, because I really thought they had.

The next morning I called Desiree.

"Did she stay over?" I asked breathlessly, having tossed and turned the entire night, imagining Dan sharing his bed—my old bed—with Jelly. No, I didn't picture them in graphic sexual detail. I wasn't a complete psycho. I just sort of envisioned them in this gauzy, dreamy, wish-fulfillment scenario that ended with his begging her to pack her bags and move in with him and her jumping for joy and saying yes and me ratting him out to some family law judge and then buying myself a nifty apartment, maybe even my old apartment. Totally unrealistic, I know, but I wasn't at my realistic best.

"I told you before. My girls aren't sluts," said Desiree. "When they sign up with me, the first thing I tell them is: don't give away the store until the third date."

"Why the third date?"

"Because it's the Desiree Klein Heart Hunting way of doing things, that's why, and it works."

"Right." If memory served, Weezie and Nards did it on the sec-ond date, and it hadn't affected their relationship adversely. But whatever. "I was just eager for some feedback from Jelly."

"I spoke to her a few minutes ago."

"And?"

"She liked Dan."

"That's wonderful!"

"She thought he was very handsome."

"She should have seen him ten years ago."

"And she enjoyed listening to the stories about his playing days."

"They're great if you haven't heard them a million times."

"And she said he wasn't an egomaniac like a lot of professional athletes."

"You have to have an actual job to be an egomaniac."