Balancing Act (15 page)

“Listen, I’m being selfish too. I might want to come back here someday and I don’t want to burn any bridges. You’re good, Dory, and there will be no qualms around here. I’ll feel right turning it over to you if that’s your choice. I want you to promise me something. I want you to call me in three months and tell me how it looks from where you’re standing. You owe me that.”

“That’s fine with me. I’m afraid I’ve been lax in not congratulating you on the adoption. I know how long you’ve waited for this. Jack must be delighted.”

Lizzie laughed as she toyed with a pencil. “He’s got the room painted and decorated. He bought a rocking chair and is sanding it down. Supposedly, it’s some kind of antique and hundreds of years old. Can you just see me in a house with antiques?”

Dory laughed as she looked around the starkly modern office. Chrome and glass were everywhere. “Give it time, you might learn to like it. I’m going to miss this place. You’ve all been good to me. It’s hard to say good-bye.”

“It is just temporary, isn’t it, Dory?” Lizzie asked in a pinched tone.

“I don’t know. I’ll call you in three months and that’s a promise.”

“Here’s our coffee. Put it here on the desk, Susy.”

Lizzie poured, then blew softly into her cup, watching Dory over the rim, her eyes full of unasked questions. “Damn it, I want to know more, Dory. Call it curiosity, concern or just plain nosiness. Somehow I didn’t think you were the type for a live-in relationship. I’m not saying it’s wrong. For me, sitting where I am, it just doesn’t compute. And going back to school. That’s a mind-bender, right there. Do you have any idea of what size chunk you’re biting off? You’re leaving the city and your job, you’re going into a live-in relationship, and you’re going back to graduate school. It’s a goddamn mind-bender is what it is. I always knew you had guts and if anyone can do it, you can. I just hope that you’ve looked at all sides of it. I don’t want you to have regrets later. Consider me a sister now and not your managing editor.”

Dory leaned over the desk, her face earnest and sincere. “I have thought about it. I have to admit I had some doubts. I still have a few but I have to take a shot at it. I love Griff. That’s my bottom line. As for marriage, maybe I love him too much to marry him right now. I never do things halfway, you know that. And you know how important my doctorate is to me. I can’t keep putting it off forever. I’ll give it my best shot and go on from there.”

Lizzie sipped at the hot coffee. “This stuff is mud. My ulcer is going to complain. I like you, Dory, I always have. Everyone here on the staff thinks highly of you. None of us would stand in your way. Hell, what I’m trying to say is if for some reason things don’t work out, don’t wait six months. Saving face is not an American trait.”

Dory smiled. “I’ll remember that. It’s nice to know the door is open. But I can’t make any promises.”

“You’re really sure you need that doctorate? How long will it take?”

Dory flinched. She really didn’t want to talk about going back to school. Not now anyway. “I only have another year to go. When I copped out that last year and came to work here it was the right thing to do at the time. I’d had enough of school and working part-time. I cheated myself, I know that now. I’ve always been sorry I never finished. I’ll handle it.”

Lizzie looked at her sharply but dropped the subject. “I wish you the best, Dory. I hope things work out the way you want them to. We’ll keep in touch.”

“Thanks, Lizzie, and my best to you too.”

Lizzie stared for a long time at the chair where Dory had been sitting. Blunt fingers with squared-off nails tapped at the smooth surface of her desk. The conversation ricocheted around her brain. The blunt fingers tapped faster. Suddenly the fingers stilled and a wide grin split her features. Her money was on Faraday.

Back in her own office Dory closed the door behind her. For some reason she felt cold and clammy. An interview, a conversation really, with Lizzie shouldn’t be having this effect on her. Lizzie was on her side. What more could she want or expect? She slid into her chair and leaned her head back. Why was she feeling so light-headed? Taking a deep breath, she lowered her head to her knees. Another deep breath. Her mouth was dry, as if she’d eaten too much peanut butter. She didn’t like what was happening to her. Was this some kind of warning? Surely it couldn’t be an anxiety attack. Only people like her mother had anxiety attacks. Why would she have one? Things were going smoothly. Everything was falling into place. She almost had the world by the tail. Her breathing was almost regular now. Paper bags. People used paper bags when they hyperventilated. Was that what was happening to her? Was that the same thing as an anxiety attack? What did you do if you didn’t have a paper bag? Exactly what she was doing. Nothing. A picture of herself carrying a brown grocery bag in her purse made her smile. “Just take the bag out of my purse and put it over my head.” God, what if she had to say that to some stranger? Never! Get it together, Faraday, she told herself firmly. Pick up your head and wipe off your hands. Handle it.
Take control.
Don’t
lose
control.

It was a good ten minutes before she felt normal. Now she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Managing Editor. Jobs like that only came around once in a lifetime. It certainly was something to think about. It was also something to keep to herself for the time being. She wouldn’t share it with Griff now, especially when he was just getting started in his new job. What a long way he had come from the days when he worked for the ASPCA. She wouldn’t do or say anything that could put a blight or a shadow on his confidence or happiness. For now, Griff had to come first. Would her successful career be as appealing if Griff were not in her life? Would a life with Griff but without a career for herself be appealing? She didn’t know, wasn’t sure. For now, she could have the best of both. She was a reasonably intelligent woman and she should be able to handle both the man in her life and her career. It was something she really wanted, to return to school and finish her degree. But was that really true? Or was she using school as an excuse to go with Griff? The thought bothered her. It was the perfect time and the perfect opportunity. But was she really ready to go back to the academic life?
Really
ready? She shrugged. It felt right and that would have to be good enough. If it proved to be the wrong decision, she would handle it. Griff seemed to sense how important her doctorate was to her. Could that have something to do with her decision to go back to school?
She didn’t want to disappoint him.
He found it admirable for a woman to pursue education, and she believed it brought their relationship to a more equal level. He already had his degree in veterinary medicine; she would soon hold a doctorate in the humanities. No, she couldn’t disappoint Griff. It had to be Griff and Dory. Equals.

By the end of the day news of Dory’s plans had spread through the entire fifteenth floor. She knew this had been engineered by Lizzie who, by showing her approval, sanctioned all the good wishes and congratulations of Dory’s colleagues. David Harlow, the editor of
Soiree,
stopped by to congratulate Dory and offered her drinks and dinner at Le Bernardin the following day. In essence, this was an open declaration that
Soiree
would always welcome Dory back with open arms.

Dory was overwhelmed by Harlow’s offer. In her eight years at
Soiree
she had rarely been in the man’s presence. Several wild and exhilarating Christmas parties and one summer picnic hardly counted. David Harlow was a commanding, dynamic man who generated office gossip concerning his private life. Two wives and twice as many mistresses were attributed to this rather short, nattily dressed man with the bruised circles under his eyes. Because of the authority and timbre in his voice a person forgot about the road map of veins in his cheeks and nose and the beginning of ponderous jowls.

“I’d like that, Mr. Harlow,” said Dory as she accepted his invitation. Although she wasn’t eager to spend an evening with this man, she realized it would be inopportune to refuse. Especially for Lizzie’s sake. Dory’s replacing Lizzie as managing editor would require Harlow’s blessing and now was as good a time as any to pave the way.

He didn’t smile or brighten at her acceptance, nor did he ask her to call him David. One didn’t call Mr. Harlow David. Ever.

Jewel-bright eyes flicked over Dory’s attire; he seemed to register satisfaction. “Fine,” he told her, his voice conspiratorially muted, “I’ll stop by around seven tomorrow and we can catch a cab from here.”

Dory sat quietly for a few moments considering the brief exchange of words. For some reason she felt vaguely disgruntled. Katy always said it would take an act of Congress to make the big guy step down to the fifteenth floor to chat with the underlings. Was her leaving and the offer of Lizzie’s job equivalent to an act of Congress?

The late afternoon sun slanted into the spacious office, turning the plants into shimmering green jewels. Dory looked for dust motes but could see nothing but the band of light that seemed to laser through the wide window. She suddenly felt claustrophobic—as though she were trapped in a paperweight, the kind she had when she was a child that snowed tiny flakes when you turned it upside down. An overwhelming urge to talk to Griff washed over her. She drew in her breath, not understanding the feeling.

Katy bustled into the room, jarring Dory from her deep thoughts. She closed the door behind her and flopped down on the chair next to Dory’s desk. With the door closed they could indulge in familiarity. “I’m impressed. So is everyone on the damn floor. God, do you have any idea of the stir you just created? By the weekend, according to rumor, you’ll either be having a raging affair that’s been going on for years or going off on a ‘business trip’ with Big Daddy Harlow. Le Bernardin, no less. Mr Harlow’s secretary told Lizzie’s secretary who told Irma who told me. What do you have to say about that?” Katy grinned.

“With a network like this who needs AT&T? I was as surprised as you are. I’ve only spoken to him once or twice and both times it was at a Christmas party. He’s being nice. Don’t give me problems, and for God’s sake shut the girls up, will you? You know how I hate gossip.”

“I’ll do my best but it’s going to be a lost effort. Wouldn’t you rather assign me to something else?” Not waiting for a reply, Katy rushed on. “I was going to invite you over to the house for dinner, but I can’t come close to Le Bernardin in decor or food. So enjoy. We’ll get together before you leave. How did it all go today?” Her question was serious and Dory, long used to Katy’s moods and questions, fell into the called-upon role.

“Good. Lizzie really surprised me. It’s going to take some getting used to, I can tell you that. It’s a chance of a lifetime, but so is going for my doctorate. I won’t deny that I have a lot of thinking to do. Did you know about the adoption and the offer?”

“I had an inkling. Lizzie’s secretary spread the word that an adoption agency has been calling Lizzie for several months now. That was something no one wanted to discuss because if it didn’t come through for Lizzie we would all have been devastated. You know how badly she wants a baby. And who but you is capable of stepping into her job?”

“They could have brought someone in from outside. I was stunned. I had no idea whatsoever. This has been a day to end all days.”

“The day isn’t over. You still have dinner and the theater, and then there’s tomorrow—dinner with the big boss. You will tell me what it was like, won’t you? I won’t sleep a wink tomorrow night, worrying about you.”

“For heaven’s sake, Katy, why would you worry about me having dinner with Mr. Harlow?”

Katy pursed her full lips till they resembled a rosebud. “Because Mr. Harlow was just divorced and divorced men get lonely and for God’s sake, Dory, do I have to tell you that men, important men like David Harlow, sometimes bring pressure to bear on lowly employees to get . . .”

“My sexual favors?” Dory laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s nothing like that. This is strictly business, I can feel it in my bones.”

“That’s what Cassie Roland thought,” Katy mumbled.

“Okay, who’s Cassie Roland?”

“Cassie Roland is the girl in the publicity department.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They say Harlow lured her back to the stacks after closing time and had her bloomers off in the wink of an eye.”

“Katy, I’m surprised at you for repeating such gossip. Did they get caught?” She giggled.

“Why do you think he was just divorced? Where in hell have you been for the past eight years? Everyone knows you can’t get a job in publicity unless you sleep with Harlow.”

“I never pay attention to rumors like that,” Dory said. “Where’s Cassie Roland now? Did she get a promotion?”

Katy doubled over. “She sure did. She lives in the Dakota and is driving a Mercedes S550. She
says
she’s doing freelance work.”

Dory’s stomach churned. “I’ll handle it.”

“Will you be going to D.C. this weekend?”

“I’m going to leave early Friday. Griff’s partners’ wives have been lining up apartments for us to look at. Griff will be staying with John for the time being. He hasn’t even left yet, but I already miss him. Just knowing he won’t be here in the city after tonight gets to me.”

“And yet you say you aren’t ready for marriage. I don’t understand you, Dory. You’re obviously crazy about the guy, yet you won’t marry him. A live-in relationship could get sticky. You know, everyone isn’t as liberal as we are. How much do you know about his partners’ wives and the other women you’re going to be associating with? Not much, right? I’d hate to see you get hurt, Dory, or dumped on, for that matter. I suppose you’re sophisticated enough to handle it all, but is Griff? He seems like such a sweet guy, and he’s going to be hanging out with some pretty influential people if he goes into equine medicine. You’re talking about political clout, old money. Look, I’m talking to you like a mother, now. You can’t just think about yourself—you have to think about Griff. Don’t get so involved you can’t walk away. I want to make sure that whatever you do you do for the right reasons.”