Getting Even (24 page)

Well, well, thought Dan. This is a more interesting topic than it first appeared. He didn't share Orianna's insatiable appetite for gossip, but he did enjoy the odd bit of intrigue if it involved his colleagues. And perhaps he'd find out something he could impart to Orianna—she'd relish that. He leaned forward. “Who is it?”

“I'm not sure I should tell you. I've been advised to keep my private life to myself.”

“You can tell
me,
” he urged.

“Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” Cassie looked at him suspiciously.

“I was just interested in you, that's all.”

Cassie flushed. “I wouldn't dream of going out with you, if that's why you're asking. Not when you've been seeing my boss.”

Now Dan nearly choked on his dinner. “What on earth should give you that idea?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Cassie. “I guess I made a mistake.” But she didn't appear convinced. She hesitated, as if considering whether to explain herself more fully, then decided to play it safe. “Nonetheless, I'm not sure it's a good idea to be discussing this. I understand you and Orianna kept things quiet for a while, and if you don't mind, I'd prefer to do the same.”

“OK. Whatever.” Strange girl, he thought. Assuming I fancy her! If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a presumptuous woman. In any case, she's not my type.

*   *   *

“Thanks for coming over.”

“No worries.” Ivy put down the pizzas on the coffee table and wandered into the kitchen. “Corkscrew?”

“I've already got one open,” said Orianna.

It's not like Orianna to drink alone, thought Ivy, but sure enough, there was less than half a bottle of Chianti on the side table. She located the corkscrew and returned to the living room with both bottles and a glass for herself. “I expect we'll get onto this one too,” she said. She unzipped her boots and took them off so she could sit cross-legged, and lifted the two pizzas onto her lap. She pulled the lid off the top one to check the contents and handed the box to Orianna. “I got you this.”

“What is it?”

“Quattro formaggio.”

“Ooh yum!” Orianna examined the gooey, creamy topping. “What's yours?”

“Arugula and parmesan.” Ivy picked up her glass. “Cheers, anyway. Sorry you've had such a shit day.” Clink. “Men, who needs 'em, eh?”

“Exactly.”

“Wankers.” They were silent a while, focused on eating.

Perhaps a small admission will prompt Orianna to reveal more about Dan, thought Ivy. She said, “In fact, I was glad to get away.”

“Oh?”

“I left Ed. Back at the apartment.”

“Right.” Orianna swallowed. “How are things with him?”

“Not that great.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” Orianna looked genuinely sad for her.

Her pity made Ivy feel uncomfortable. She laughed. “No change there. But God, O, you should see him—he's grown a beard!”

“A beard!”

“Not even a goatee. It's a
proper
beard!”

“A bear beard?”

Ivy grimaced. “Even his neck's hairy. One thing's for certain. He's not kissing me like that—let alone anything else.” She winked suggestively.

“No way.” Orianna nodded. She looked downcast for a moment. Ivy guessed she was thinking about Dan.

“Enough about Ed—it's all the same old, same old. What's going on with you two?”

“We three, more like.” Orianna sighed. “As I said, seems Dan's shagging Cassie.”

“Really?” said Ivy. She made her surprise sound fake.

Orianna picked this up at once. “Did you know about it?”

“Er…” Ivy hesitated. She bit her lip as if she was struggling to protect her friend from the truth.

Orianna's eyes welled up. “You might as well tell me.”

“I didn't know anything for definite.”

“No?” Orianna sounded relieved.

“Or I'd have told you.”

Orianna nodded.

“Though I did notice he was hanging around her a lot. I mentioned that, if you recall.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you did. It's only I never really saw it myself.”

“I guess he tended to do it when you weren't there. He probably knew you'd cotton to it otherwise. But sharing work space with her, obviously I couldn't miss it.”

“No.” Tears began to fall properly now.

Ivy felt a pang of guilt. “Here.” She handed Orianna a tissue.

“Thanks.” Orianna wiped her eyes and laughed at herself. “Good thing I took off my mascara.”

“Just make sure you don't go out like that,” teased Ivy.

Orianna pulled off another slice of pizza. The cheese stretched into thin strings which she scooped into a huge, consoling mouthful. “D'you think it's been going on a long time then?”

“Truthfully, I don't know. I'll tell you something though.”

“What?”

“She's always in the loo, Cassie, isn't she, primping?”

“Too bloody right!” Orianna stopped crying.

“So if that's any measure, I guess it's been a while.”

Orianna appeared mortified.

“Yet she looks god-awful for it,” scoffed Ivy. Privately, she had a faint suspicion Cassie was doing more than preening and primping, though she kept the thought to herself.

“D'you reckon?”

Ivy gave a shudder. “Ooh yes! I've never known anyone to spend so much time on their appearance.” Her own trips to the gym didn't count, of course.

“Nor me.”

Ivy noted Orianna was dubious. “You don't think Cassie's pretty, do you?”

“Er, well … I'm not sure. Lots of men seem to think so.”

“Men with no taste,” said Ivy, before she could stop herself. Oops—Orianna appeared hurt. Better criticize Cassie, not Dan. “I don't think she's attractive at all.”

“You don't?”

“Her skin's
orange,
Orianna!”

“Is it?” Was it possible Orianna hadn't noticed?

“Oh yes. Definitely tanning bed. I mean, whoever has a tan all year round? In this country? It's so dated, darling.” She patted Orianna's knee.

“I suppose.”

“And her hair!” Never mind Orianna's upset, Ivy was enjoying herself.

“It is a bit split,” Orianna conceded.

“‘A bit split!'” Ivy flicked her long hair away from her face. She had bonding like this down to a fine art, confident both she and Orianna had flawless complexions and thick, glossy tresses. “It's
yellow.
” She was on a roll. It was such a relief to vent her own misgivings.

“I mean if you're going to dye your hair”—she checked her own streaks in the mirror behind the sofa—“at least make sure it's done
properly
.” She noticed Orianna surreptitiously check her appearance too. Ivy knew what she was doing—Orianna's brunette waves were natural. “I have to say though…”

“What?”

“It's not the only thing that's false about her, I reckon.”

“Oh?”

Ivy lifted her chin, displaying her fine profile to full effect. “Well … put it this way … I might be wrong…”

“But?”

She could tell Orianna was on tenterhooks. “I don't want to stereotype, of course, but still, it's quite rare to see a Jewish girl with a nose like that.”

“Pert, you mean?”

Ivy nodded. “Snub.”

“Gosh.” Orianna sat back, stopped chewing. “You think she's had it done?”

“Obviously I can't prove it.”

“Mm.”

“Still, it's like a ski jump.”

“True.” At last the implications took full effect. “God, Ivy, I hadn't thought of that.”

“What?”

“That Cassie's Jewish.”

“Hadn't you?”

“I mean obviously I realized she was, but I didn't think that was why … well, you know. Dan is too.”

“Really?”

“His parents would love that. Well,
her.
” She scooped another consoling mouthful.

“Surely he wouldn't be so swayed by what they thought, would he? He's not that much of a mummy's boy?”

“Actually, he's very close to his family.” Trust Orianna to see this as an asset. “Or so he says. He's never introduced me to them.”

“I see.”

“Not yet.”

“Because you're not Jewish?”

“I don't know. Maybe.” Orianna's voice was forlorn. She glanced up at her friend, eyes full of tears. “Do you think he really likes her, Ivy?”

“Lord knows. Can't see it lasting, myself.” Ivy allowed herself a sip of wine. “It'll probably blow over. My guess is he'll tire of her eventually, Jewish or not. But you can't hang around waiting forever. So”—the million-dollar question—“what are you going to do about it? I presume the last thing you want is to be made to look a fool.”

“Is that what people think?”

Hell, Ivy thought, if I'm to be single again—or, more specifically, devoid of a husband, if not a lover—at least I'll have Orianna to hang out with. “No one's said exactly that as far as I know.”

“Not yet. It's probably only a matter of time. I know how they behave at work—it's
just
what happened with Clive!” She began to cry again. “I'd better talk to him, I suppose.”

Ivy sighed. “I guess you had.”

“Maybe I should finish it.” An extra loud wail. “But I really care about him, Ivy!”

If Ivy felt a twinge of remorse, but the moment soon passed. I can't change my tune now, she thought. “I know you do, honey. I thought he seemed like a nice guy, too.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah. I suppose he had us all fooled.”

“But he told me he loved me!”

“Of course he did.”

Orianna looked mystified.

“That's what men do.”

“Even when they don't?”

“Yes. That way they can get you to do more for them. Cooking, cleaning, mothering”—not that Ivy did any of these, but still—“sexual favors … No better guarantee of a good blow job than the old ‘I love you' trick.”

“Oh.” Orianna was silent.

Poor Orianna, thought Ivy. She's such a sap! “Frankly, I don't believe in love, myself.”

Orianna seemed shocked. “You don't?”

“Not really.”

“At all?”

“Not the kind of love you're talking about, no.”

“Oh.”

“The important thing is to love yourself.”

“Right.”

“I don't know many people who know how to do that.”

Orianna took a huge bite of pizza.

As she was chewing, Ivy continued, “This is what you should remember now: to look after yourself.”

“Does it mean dumping Dan, then?”

Clap, clap! “Well, it's up to you.”

“Though would you, if you were me?”

Ivy could barely restrain from squawking,
“There's no way I'd go out with Dan!”
but bit her tongue. “Oh yes. Also, I wouldn't give his excuses the time of day.”

“You mean you wouldn't even
talk
to him?”

“And give him the chance to explain himself?” Ivy shook her head.

“But I want to confront him.”

“What's the point? He'll only deny everything.”

“I'm not sure…” Orianna frowned. “He's not that dishonest, surely?”

“He's a man, isn't he?” Ivy waited for Orianna to nod. “I don't trust any of them as far as I can throw them.”

“Oh. None of them?”

“No. Not the ones with any intelligence, anyway. The only men you can trust are the dumb ones.” Like Ed, she thought. “Talk to Dan and you give him the chance to come up with something; persuade you that Cassie means nothing to him. Or worse, he'll turn it back on you, convince you you're imagining it.” She stabbed at the crust of her pizza.

“I'm sure he wouldn't do that.”

“Don't you bet on it. That's what my father did to my mother.”

“Mm?”

“She suspected he was having an affair, he made out
she
was the bonkers one. I'm positive it didn't help her already fragile mental state.” Ivy had shared this story before and once she saw Orianna was nodding again, continued, “When they're caught on the hop, there's no telling what some men will do. Dan could suggest somebody is stirring it, I don't know.” She laughed. “He might even try and blame me, you never know.”

“You? Why would he do that?”

“Well, I don't think he's ever terribly liked me, put it that way.”

“He hasn't ever said that to me.”

“Honey, he's hardly going to do that, now is he? He knows how close we are.”

Orianna sighed.

Some pep talk this is proving to be, thought Ivy. With luck Orianna won't know what to make of Dan anymore. “Whatever, don't let his excuses wash.”

“Right.”

“Though if it was me? I'd cut him out. Schwum!” She sliced through the air with her pizza knife.

Orianna jumped and—for a split second—looked a little scared. “I see. You really wouldn't speak to him?”

Ivy could tell Orianna was hanging on her every word. She held her gaze. “No.”

“What would you do then?”

“I don't know
precisely.
E-mail him, write to him—tell him it's over. Maybe I'd simply not speak to him again. It would piss him off, I know, but nowhere near as much as he'd have fucked me over. Talking will only give him the chance to lie to you again. Still, that's me. You must do what's best for you.”

Orianna swallowed the last mouthful of pizza.

“However you handle it,” Ivy smiled sympathetically, “after that it's onwards and upwards, my friend. Men—we're better off without them.”