Part 2 (1/2)
Chapter Three.
Rosalie had to face facts. The day had been a complete loss, and it was all (he fault of the man who shall remain nameless. She'd spent a sleepless night asking herself why she'd dated an idiot for two years. The answer was not one she'd ever want repeated outside the hallowed halls of a shrink's office. To make matters worse, she'd missed her subway stop and was late for work, all because she'd been thinking about ”him.” The subway debacle also made her late for her staff meeting, where she got caught not paying attention because she'd been thinking about him. Again. Madonne. Madonne.
Okay, so he could be described as smart and gorgeous. Too bad ”complete b.u.t.tinsky” fit the bill, too. Who'd asked for his opinion, anyway?
Rosalie had had been trying to distance herself from Joey. Could she help it that Joey was too much of an idiot to notice? It's not as if her refusal to marry him had anything to do with a knight-in-s.h.i.+ning-wrecker fantasy. She'd been unhappy in the relations.h.i.+p long before Mr. b.u.t.tinsky did his Dr. Phil impression. been trying to distance herself from Joey. Could she help it that Joey was too much of an idiot to notice? It's not as if her refusal to marry him had anything to do with a knight-in-s.h.i.+ning-wrecker fantasy. She'd been unhappy in the relations.h.i.+p long before Mr. b.u.t.tinsky did his Dr. Phil impression.
By the time five o'clock rolled around, she'd only accomplished avoiding her mother and sister. It paid to have a pushy a.s.sistant.
n.o.body got by Gina. Rosalie had never known anyone to intimidate her mother, but Gina did-and Rosalie would be indebted to her forever. Unfortunately, Gina also intimidated Rosalie.
She cringed as Gina walked into her office and closed the door. She should have known she wouldn't get away without a bit of bloodletting.
Rosalie had thought it odd when Gina hadn't pressed for information during lunch. The thought of food had her reaching for an antacid. Talk about agita. agita. G.o.d forbid she should be one of those people who can't eat when they're nervous or upset. No, she became the human equivalent of a self-propelled vacuum, eating anything and everything in sight. Not only had she eaten a whole Katz's pastrami sandwich, an unbelievable feat, but she'd finished Gina's meal. Even the servers had been astounded. Rosalie was proud of herself, though-she hadn't let anything slip. She only opened her mouth to stuff food in it. G.o.d forbid she should be one of those people who can't eat when they're nervous or upset. No, she became the human equivalent of a self-propelled vacuum, eating anything and everything in sight. Not only had she eaten a whole Katz's pastrami sandwich, an unbelievable feat, but she'd finished Gina's meal. Even the servers had been astounded. Rosalie was proud of herself, though-she hadn't let anything slip. She only opened her mouth to stuff food in it.
Gina tossed her short, inky hair out of her eyes and warmed up for round two. ”I'm ready to leave for the day. I've turned the phone over to voice mail, so your mother's tenth call will be answered. Now you can tell me what the h.e.l.l happened to make a sweet, albeit controlling, mother hen lose all her tail feathers and most of her sanity.”
Rosalie stared at the floor, knowing that in a few minutes Gina would say the dreaded I-told-you-so. She and Gina worked too closely together to keep their personal lives out of their relations.h.i.+p. h.e.l.l, they were so close that they even had their periods at the same time. And yes, the rest of the office treaded lightly and avoided them like the plague during the nightmare PMS week, the cowards. Her boss even had it noted on his Black-Berry. Talk about embarra.s.sing.
”Joey proposed last night, and I said no.” Just because they were close didn't mean she had to go into specifics, did it?
”We'll get back to the deets of Joey's proposal in a moment. The fact you said no explains your mother's rash of phone calls, including the one asking me if you should use Benadryl or cortisone cream on hives-”
”Look Gina, I'd love to dish, but I have to pick up my car at Romeo's before it closes.” She shut down her computer, gathered her things without making eye contact, and prayed she'd make it out alive. No such luck.
Gina stepped in front of the door, the one entree to freedom. Rosalie sneaked a look out the window and wondered how bad it would hurt if she jumped. Sure, they were on the fifth floor, but maybe she'd hit an awning and break her fall.
Nah. She wasn't that lucky. If she were, she wouldn't have to consider jumping out the window in the first place.
Gina gave her the stink eye. How Gina could look down her nose at Rosalie when she stood a good eight inches shorter defied physics. Then she smiled her I'm-going-to-torture-you-and-enjoy-it smile, her golden brown eyes sparkling with antic.i.p.ation.
”I'll walk with you to the subway.”
Sure she would. ”If you're going to pump me for information on the way, the least you could do is ply me with alcohol.” She heard the definite hint of a whine in her last statement.
”I plan to.”
”Oh, good. It's nice to know that some things don't change. You still anesthetize me before you open me up. It's always less painful that way.”
They left the office and pushed their way into the first elevator. Once they hit the lobby, Gina continued her interrogation, as if the elevator ride hadn't happened.
”You didn't have to lie to me about your car, chica. chica. I thought we were friends.” I thought we were friends.”
She pushed past a group of women and went out the revolving door as fast as her short legs could carry her. Gina had to be p.i.s.sed off to slip into Spanish, and a p.i.s.sed-off Gina was not just a little bit scary. Rosalie gave herself a virtual thump on the head when she remembered she'd learned to curse in Spanish from Gina. Three years of Spanish-wasted.
They stopped at a street corner to wait for the light to change. Rosalie straightened the strap on her purse. ”It's not a lie. I got a flat tire on the way home from dinner last night.”
”Since when do you take your car to a garage for a flat?”
”Since I asked Richie to get me a spare. He pocketed my money and forgot to buy it. And to think I lent him the d.a.m.n car in exchange for his tire knowledge.”
Traffic cleared, and Gina pushed by two nuns to jaywalk. She raised one eyebrow. ”Tire knowledge?”
Rosalie said h.e.l.lo to the sisters and crossed herself for good measure before pa.s.sing them. ”All those years of Richie stripping cars with his buddies must have taught him something.”
”Other than what military life was like?”
”It was a military prep school.”
”It was his one chance to stay out of jail. I know the story.”
”Fine. Anyway, I had no spare, so I had the car towed to Romeo's.” Rosalie opened the door to their after-work watering hole. She watched as Gina-a cross between Jessica Rabbit and Tinkerbelle with a Latin twist-strode through on four-inch heels that brought her up to a whopping five feet four. Rosalie always enjoyed watching men's heads turn and jaws drop like dominoes when they saw Gina. Not that she ever noticed.
”Romeo's was open on a Sunday night?”
”I don't know. Nick drove by and stopped. He towed the car and dropped me off at home.” Rosalie took a seat at the bar and tucked her briefcase behind the foot rail.
”Nick?”
”The mechanic driving the wrecker. Anyway, after I got home, Joey came over and proposed, if that's what you'd call it.”
”Why? How'd he do it?”
Suffice it to say, Gina gave her a refresher course on cursing in Spanish and attracted the attention of every man in the bar. Of course, she did that by breathing. Over the years, Rosalie had gotten used to it. She knew not to have Gina sit in on any meetings with a straight man in attendance. Nothing got accomplished.
By the time they'd finished their second drink, Gina had said her ”I-told-you-so's,” and Rosalie had heard several new descriptions of an idiot, both in English and Spanish, but she'd yet to hear one ”poor baby.” Instead, she had to deal with a drunken Gina doing a happy dance over the still-warm corpse of her failed relations.h.i.+p.
When it came to disliking Joey, Gina and Dave were alike, though Dave was more subtle.
After pouring Gina into a cab headed uptown, Rosalie called her neighbor to ask him to let Dave out and went straight to Romeo's. In the service department, she waited for the woman with the beehive hairdo to finish talking to an old codger. Had no one ever told her that beehives went out with the '60s? She turned her blue eye-shadowed gaze toward Rosalie. ”What can I do for you?”
”I'm here to pick up my car.” Rosalie dug the work order out of her pocket and smoothed the wrinkles before sliding it across the counter. She saw the woman's nametag and smiled. The name Trudy fit.
”Oh, so you're the one. Okay, I'll call the boss.”
As Trudy paged Nick, her eyes never left Rosalie. Within seconds, five women came out of various doorways and crowded behind the counter to join in the stare fest while they tried to look busy.
Rosalie looked around the waiting area, trying to ignore the fact that several women were staring at her. It was nice-the waiting room, not the women staring. It had a section with desks and Internet access for customers to work while they waited, a play area for kids, and an area with TVs, magazines, and leather couches. Nick must be the service manager, since Trudy had called him the boss. Impressive.
”Hi, Rosalie.”
She turned at the sound of Nick's voice. He'd snuck up on her. He wore black slacks and a white Oxford s.h.i.+rt with the sleeves rolled up. Nothing special, but on him it made her newly single hormones do the tango.
”Hi.” Okay, not the most brilliant conversation starter, but she was happy she could utter a single syllable. Maybe she shouldn't have had that second dirty martini.
Nick shot a glance at the women gathered behind the desk, and they scattered faster than a bunch of kids after breaking a window.
”Do you have that effect on all women, or only the ones who work for you?” There, that was better.