The She-Hulk Diaries (39 page)

I can’t believe how quickly time has flown by. This morning our QUIRC team—Amber, Genoa, Quinty, and I—marched up the steps to the courthouse. Sven and his security guards arrived by separate car.

Reporters were waiting for us and shouting at me, “Jennifer! Jennifer! Will She-Hulk come to cheer you on or give you legal advice?”

“No, she reserves her appearances for cases of superhuman law.”

“Jennifer! Do you have any clues about the identity of the superhuman who built the moonbeam raygun, shot the water spheres cannon, or created the fatshions?”

“The NYPD and investigators at the Mansion are still looking into the incidents, and you can address your questions to them.”

“Do you think Dr. Doom is involved?”

The hammerhead had paused on the steps, and now she glared at me as if I was responsible for getting all the attention. I said, “While these do resemble Doom scenarios, Victor von Doom’s work has a mad genius’s skillfulness and catastrophic results. It’s never this amateurish.”

Amber moved to step in front of me, flipping her blond hair in my face. “Now, if there are no more questions about the ReplaceMax case…” she said, and her honeyed tone soothed the frenzied reporters.

I followed her into the courthouse and resisted the urge to wrap her hair in my hand, lift her up, and wring her out like a wet towel in a locker room. Because I am a mature professional.

We selected a jury, which is both tedious and terribly important because we needed people who could grasp the basics of cloning and bioengineering. I excused anyone who was interested in celebrity. Max Kirsch’s
lead attorney, Melissa Christoph, and I were both looking for jurors who were sympathetic to organ transplants—that was the easy part because most people knew of someone who needed or might need an organ.

I ran into Melissa in the ladies’ room during a break, and we caught up on news about friends and family.

“It’s going to get ugly. I’m going to go after you like a junkyard dog after a T-bone,” Melissa said. “I’ve told my tween not to watch the news, so she doesn’t hate me more than she already does.”

“Give me what you got, because I’m gonna make you roast like a drunk arsonist with a can of gasoline and a lumberyard,” I said. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with angry kids, Missy, but I have acquaintances who aren’t happy I took the case.”

“It could be worse. We could be going against She-Hulk in court. I’m too old and slow to duck flying furniture.”

We both laughed until we got to the door, and then we put on somber, serious attorney faces.

I avoided my phone by working out on the punching bag in my awesome new gym. It’s not the same as Azzan scolding me, but Fritz has become his new favorite student, so at least Azzan isn’t lonely. I groaned when my phone buzzed again, but then I saw that the call was from Holden.

“Holden, hi!”

“Hi, Jen. Congratulations on getting Hawkeye’s place. I’ve been to a lot of great poker games there.”

“Am I the only one who didn’t…” I began, but it was obvious everyone else knew about the underground lair. “I’ll have a housewarming when this case is over.”

“How’s Missy?”

“Her son is going to be Scrooge in his school’s
A Christmas Carol
, so she’s got a personal incentive to wrap up things by December.”

“Tell her hi for me. Are you tired of human law yet?”

“No.”

“Just thought I’d check!”

Spent the rest of the night practicing my opening statement in the mirror, until I knew it by heart.

Resisted looking up the Fractious Faraday schedule. Songs are make-believe and I have to deal with real life.

The first actual day of trial was exhausting. I felt energy buzzing through me as I gave my opening statement. It’s different than the energy I get transforming, but it’s still a sweet high, marred only by the fact that Ellis Quintal was sitting in the courtroom glowering at me.

He was so tall that the bailiff asked him to move to the back row. He’d grown his hair longer and had a beard, which made him look even more like his piratical lumberjacky self and threw me off my game just enough to miss a few beats.

“The jury will be shown how Matthew, I mean,
Maxwell
Kirsch brazenly rejected Dr. Sven Morigi’s warnings that the organs were detected.
Defective
. The organs were defective.” I took a breath to calm myself. I kept my gaze away from Ellis and hit my stride, letting my statements build upon one another until the entire courtroom was transfixed by me.

As I sat down at the plaintiff’s table, Amber met my eyes for a second and turned away, but Sven gave me an encouraging smile.

When I looked around, I saw that Ellis was gone.

The emotional high faded once I left the courtroom. I took a long walk before heading down to my subterranean lair. It was really fun to watch the waterfall part and the door slide open to my awesome new pad. After I’d flopped onto the couch, I checked my phone.

Jordy had texted me. “I need yr help. Not important cept 2 me. Bring burgers fries shakes.”

I was happy that Jordy wanted burgers, because that meant he was feeling well, and I was complimented that he’d ask me, Jennifer Walters,
for help when I knew he idolized Shulky. Maybe he’d decided to go into suspended animation and wanted me to draw up the paperwork. Or maybe he needed advice about transferring his brain into an android body.

I changed into running pants, a sports bra, and a hoodie, and I called in a to-go order for burgers. I used my aPhone’s locator to guide me through the old tunnels and climbed a ladder to go to the surface. I picked up our food and was soon in Jordy’s room.

So was Ellis. He was leaning against the wall of windows strumming a ukulele, and when he saw me, he said, “What are you—”

Jordy sat up in bed. “Hi, Jenny. Thanks for coming. Big E, I asked her here because you can’t help me.”

“I can help you with whatever you want, Jordy,” Ellis grumbled. “You haven’t asked me to help you with anything.”

“Okay, teach me how to dance,” Jordy asked Ellis. “We’ve got a dance here on Saturday, and one of the candy stripers asked me. Tanya.” Jordy looked at me and said, “I need to know how to old-people dance.” He saw the bag in my hand. “Big E hasn’t eaten yet.”

I handed the bag to Ellis, who held it as if it contained poisonous snakes. “Go ahead. They’re the most delicious burgers in the city according to my best friend.”

“Yeah, go ahead, Big E,” Jordy said. “We had mac and cheese tonight and I had seconds, but I’ll take a shake, chocolate if you got it.”

I handed him a drink.

Ellis opened the bag and unwrapped a burger as if it was his final meal. We ate in silence, until Jordy said, “So, Jenny, can you teach me? I have a slow jam mix.” He held up a player and a portable speaker.

“Let me finish my burger and I’ll teach you to two-step. It’s really easy.”

“I already got an okay from my doc,” Jordy said, and buzzed for the nurse. “Jenny, I’ve been investigating that strange pretty dude you’re representing, Slime Mold Rug Guy.”

I shot a look at Ellis, who shrugged and said, “His nickname, not mine.”

“Dr. Sven Morigi,” I said to Jordy.

“That’s what I said: Dirtbag Slime Mold Rug Guy.” Jordy exchanged a grin with Ellis. “Something’s not legit with him.”

“I appreciate your concern, but he’s a very well-respected bio engineer.”

“Yeah, that’s what the internets say, but they’re whack, like they say there’s no Sasquatch, when he lives just outside Duluth.”

I didn’t disagree, because I’d spent a really nice Thanksgiving at Sas’s wonderful lakefront home.

Jordy tossed his paper cup into a trash bin and said, “If you lift the top layer off Slime Mold Rug Guy and look beneath, it’s all wonky.”

“Jordy,” I said. “Please don’t tell me that Ellis has you hacking into sites to discredit my client. Dr. Morigi’s credentials are unassailable.”

“I haven’t done a thing,” Ellis said. “Jordy acted on his own.”

“Like I believe that,” I said, trying to smeer.

“Big E didn’t ask me to check, Jenny, and you’re right that this stuff is unsailable—it would sink like a bag of rocks. You gotta watch your back with Dirtbag Slime Mold Rug Guy.”

I glared at Ellis, then moved out of the way for the nurse, who was the same guy who’d let Shulky take Jordy to the roof.

The nurse skillfully removed Jordy’s IV and said, “He’s doing great this week. You can use the community room. No one’s there now.”

Jordy wanted to walk, but Ellis said, “Save your energy for the ladies, dude,” and helped him into a wheelchair.

As we made our way down the hall, Jordy said, “Tanya’s into smart guys. She dated a guy at Columbia so she could sit in on his classes. She wants to be an astrophysicist and she made me cupcakes for Valentine’s Day. She’s pretty and she likes to laugh.”

“She sounds great,” I said.

The community room had one low light on. The windows outside showed the sparkling skyline. I loved the Manhattan skyline even better when it was real and not a projected image in my underground bunker.

Ellis said, “Okay, I’ll see you later, Jordy.”

“E, you said you’d teach me to dance, and I need you to help me back to my room later.”

“I thought Jenny was going to teach you. Just don’t count on her to show for follow-up lessons.”

I stared so hard at the side of Ellis’s head that I thought he should feel my anger burrowing like a weevil through his brain. “I’m extremely reliable, Jordy. I can provide references. But someone has to actually be interested enough to call me, or I won’t know that he, um, needs a dance lesson.”

Ellis’s rough voice was cold. “What if someone wanted a dance lesson but was unable to call? A concerned teacher would try to find out why a student was absent.”

Jordy made a face. “Why do adults always talk in code? Yo, dying kid here! Am I going to have to call the Make-A-Wish Foundation because you two have issues?”

Ellis and I broke off our staring contest and looked at Jordy, who said, “You guys have to show me how it’s done, so, Big E, slow-dance with Jenny so I can watch your feet and stuff.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t want to dance with me,” Ellis said flatly.

“Why not? You’re acting like a complete dick, but I know you’re not a douche.”

I started laughing, and Ellis slowly smiled and said, “Jenny might disagree.”

He’d called me Jenny again!

Jordy was scrolling through his playlist. “I’m finding the right song. My uncle gave me this playlist of old-school stuff. Go ahead.”

Ellis breathed out loudly through his nose, an exasperated sound, and held out his arms. I stepped to him and put my hand in his large one, sending a current through me. My heart thumped faster when he placed his other hand on my back.

Jordy clicked on the music, and we heard the tinkly intro of a cover to “The Closer I Get to You.” I felt like I was in a motel lounge.

Ellis took a step to one side and I followed him, robotically.

My voice was pitched too high when I said, “The basic two-step is very easy, Jordy. Step together, step.” I could feel the heat from Ellis’s hand on my back. I smelled his woodsy aftershave. I saw his dark eyes shining in the dim room.

Then I heard a squeaking sound and began to turn, but Ellis kept hold of me.

The nurse was taking Jordy out of the room in his wheelchair. “Sorry, the doctor dropped by for his rounds and wants to check Jordy’s vitals. I’ll bring him right back.”

Ellis took another few steps and I followed him. “Jenny, I think we’ve been conned by a teenager.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t like Amber and thinks I should be with someone taller.”

We kept dancing awkwardly, and I said, “Why doesn’t he like Amber?”

“She’s not exactly cuddly [significant pause]
obviously
. Why don’t you like her?”

“You’re assuming that I don’t. Do you think he’s coming back?”

“No idea. This song is awful.”

“The song you sang the other day was awful,” I said and felt the tension in his body. And that’s when the music player made a clicking sound, and then we heard the plaintive notes of an oboe.

I yanked back, but Ellis held on tight and pulled me close. “He’s not coming back,” I said, panicked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ellis said as the music swelled and Karen Carpenter’s pure contralto sang out the words that I’d cried to for months: “
I fell in love with you before the second show…
”

I hid my face against his shoulder so he wouldn’t see my anguish.

“You said you loved me, Gin.”

“You never called me!” My voice was muffled by his shirt. “We promised to call each other, and I called you and left a message, but you
never
called me. I waited and you never ever called.” I tried to stop the tears, but the music took me straight back to those lonely nights.

“Oh, babe,” he murmured. “I didn’t know you’d called and I didn’t have your number. The guys pranked me by stealing my phone, dunking it in liquid nitrogen, and then using it to skeet shoot.”

A puzzle piece fell into place. “That’s what ‘Forged by Fire’ meant about mischief pulling.”

He laid his head against mine, and his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. “Yes. I wrote all those songs for you because it was the only way I knew to find you. I looked for you at every show. I trolled fan sites hoping to see your name, and I checked the band’s mail compulsively. I roamed the halls of USC’s law school asking people if they knew Genevieve, until campus security told me not to come back.”

“UCLA. Jennifer.”

“You should have corrected me then.”

“I thought it was your East Coast accent, and most of the time you didn’t say my name. You said… other things.”

“Why didn’t you get in touch when you heard the songs,
your
songs?”

“I thought they were just songs. I thought Gin was anyone, any girl.”

He pulled back to look me in my face. My glasses were steamed up and smeared from my tears, and he took them off and set them on a ledge. “But, Gin, songs are
everything
. You weren’t any girl. You were
the
girl. You were everything.”