The Ladies' Man (28 page)

Now no one is home at Stearns Road to discuss the day's disappointment, namely that Marty twice came into Development on business but did not speak to or acknowledge her. Scott and Michael noticed, just as they had noticed his frank on-air admiration, and hummed various corny songs when she'd arrived this morning.

Kathleen is staying downtown for dinner, which Adele understands to mean she is spending time with Lorenz. And then she thinks: Richard, perfect—an expert on work-related mating rituals. Surely he will have advice, and surely he'll welcome her confidence.

She misses him. And she knows he is worried about her. The expression on his face when she choked and as she was being saved was one of such panic and grief that she felt as if her baby brother had declared his love publicly at Maison Robert.

He is in his car, traveling west on Storrow Drive, but says he is happy to swing by. “What'd you have in mind?” he asks.

“Just wanted to see you.”

“Has to be about Lois.”

“It's not.”

“Harvey Nash?”

“Patooey,” says Adele, and they both laugh.

“Kathleen and the doorman?”

“No,” says Adele. “That's taking care of itself.”

“Isn't it great?” says Richard. “I've checked him out half a dozen times since I heard about it. I mean, if your sister's going to take up with a complete stranger, why not a doorman in a public place? I walk in, tip my hat, buy a newspaper at Fredo's or a gift at The Other Woman, and walk out. He's awfully pleasant.”

“I haven't met him,” says Adele. “Kathleen's keeping him under wraps.”

“Do what I do—swing by the store. You can't miss him.”

“Unlike you, I work at a desk,” says Adele, “which limits my freedom to spy on my sisters during the day.”

There is static on Richard's end. When his voice comes through it, he is talking about Lois.

“What about her?” asks Adele.

“I said I take it you know she's at The Lucky Duck again.”

“I know. I checked with the landlady to be sure she was alive.”

“In fact, I just called over there before I left the office.”

“And?”

“She was out.” He doesn't add the rest of what he elicited from the chatty Mrs. Chabot: having dinner with the new boarder, a man from California; a movie star on holiday, she suspects.

“Where are you now?” Adele asks.

“Comm. Ave. at B.U. Want me to pick something up?”

She asks if he can come by the apartment first.

“What's on the docket?” he asks.

Adele wonders how much she should tell Richard. He'd be a little too happy to hear there was the possibility of a romance, and he'd feel sorry for her for years if it turned out to be all a big misunderstanding.

“Professional or personal?”

“I'd have to say … both.”

“A man, obviously. Either someone you want to encourage, or someone you want to sue?”

Adele laughs. “Not sue. Quite the opposite.”

“Opposite of ‘sue.' Hmmm. I think that would be ‘have sex with.' ”

Adele laughs. “Can you say that on a car phone?”

“Are you kidding? You can have phone sex on a car phone.”

“I wouldn't know,” says Adele.

“Me neither. I read about it in
Newsweek
.”

Adele laughs. “You must be here now. Can I hang up?”

“I'm on your street and I see a spot,” says Richard.

Adele presses the “play” button and points at the screen. “That's him,” she says.

Richard watches and nods, occasionally emitting sounds that express comprehension and insight. Within a minute he announces,
“He's smitten. Trust me. See that—” He pauses, then rewinds. “While you're talking to the camera, he's looking at you.” He peers closer. “Are those people on the phones wearing yarmulkes?”

“They're from Hillel. Now take a look at this.”

It is Marty talking on a volunteer's phone. “Read his lips,” Adele instructs. “See if he isn't saying ‘Adele Dobbin.' ”

They watch carefully, rewind, watch again. “Could very well be,” he says. “Obviously, it's some viewer asking, ‘Who's the redheaded bombshell?' ”

Adele shakes her head. “It's his mother.”

“He told you that?”

“No. He told me, ‘My mother is completely thrilled that we talked about her in the same breath as Julia Child.' But it wasn't until I got home and watched the tape—”

“And why did you tape yourself in the first place?”

“I do sometimes. To see how a certain tactic works.” She smiles. “Or how a certain dress looks.”

“I like it, by the way.”

“Thanks. Brand-new. Kathleen came with me and made me buy it.”

“Good for her. So we need to know: What is the question to the answer ‘Adele Dobbin'?”

“Whatever it was, he looks annoyed, don't you think?”

“He was caught red-handed! You don't want your mother seeing you in action. It's like having her drive you on a date. Besides, if she called him in the middle of a pledge break, you can bet she calls him regularly.
Too
regularly: hourly.”

Adele reports on today's unsettling behavior: that this same man who looks so devoted on-air avoided her at work.

“Could've been your imagination.”

“It wasn't. Twice I saw him duck into an office when he saw me coming.”

“Simple: Somebody razzed him about having a crush on you and he clammed up.”

“You think so?”

“Of course! He advertised on TV—enough so his mother weighed in—so he's playing it close to the vest for a while.”

Adele takes this information with her to the kitchen, and comes
back with two bottles of beer and two glasses. “So I'm supposed to take the hint and not speak either?”

“It's hard to explain. He's looking for a sign from you, but at the same time, he doesn't want anyone else to see it. I mean, he's the boss, right? It's tricky.”

“It hasn't been a problem up till now,” says Adele. “Just the opposite.”

“Of course: romance in the cafeteria. It's what makes the world go round.”

“People were starting to notice,” says Adele. “Scott and Michael had started to tease me—and that was before this spectacle.”

Richard nods toward the tape. “How long has this been going on? Weeks? Months?”

“Months,” says Adele.

“Not married, I assume?”

Adele smiles. “Only to his mother.”

“How perfect—drawn to a girl who's married to her sisters.”

Adele makes a face. “Although the sisters seem to be going through a divorce.”

“Isn't that good? If things work out for Kathleen?”

“Of course,” Adele says quickly.

“It's just that you haven't met him yet, so how seriously could you be rooting for Lorenz the doorman?”

“Pretty seriously,” she murmurs.

“Good girl.”

Adele asks, “Now what? What's my next step?”

“You wait.”

“For what?”

“To run into him when no one else is around. Like in the elevator.”

“And I say …?”

Richard leans back against the sofa and closes his eyes. “You could say … ‘Marty, I need some help in reeling in a big corporate sponsor.' Pick one—there must be dozens that actually fit that profile. Then you say, ‘So if I set up a lunch for next Friday, whatever, would you join us?' ”

Adele shakes her head. “It's too … I don't know—”

“Manipulative?”

“Unethical. Using a client to advance my personal life. Too silly. Plus we use talent to reel them in, not the suits.”

Richard snaps his fingers. “I know: Cozy up to his secretary, and next time he's working late—”

“That's the worst—‘cozy up to his secretary.' I can see you doing that, sitting on the edge of a secretary's desk, fingering her knickknacks, but it's ridiculous—”

Richard takes the remote control and snaps on the tape again. After a minute he declares, “He's gonna call you. I can see that. He wishes he lived in the neighborhood so he could memorize your schedule and run into you accidentally on purpose—”

“Like high school.”

Richard grins. “Haven't I taught you that much: Men don't change after high school.”

“So that means what? Call him about a homework assignment? Hope he asks me to the Senior Fling?”

“No. You and I leave the premises and go out for either Indian food or sushi. If he doesn't reach you, he'll call back.”

“Or we could get takeout. Both those places deliver now.”

Richard puts his arm around Adele's shoulder and squeezes. “I don't remember you sitting around in high school waiting for boys to call. I hope you don't start now.”

Adele stands and collects the two bottles and two glasses. “In that case,” she says, “sushi.”

After they are seated, after Adele has finished her California roll and her Brookline roll, and as Richard is still working on a deluxe sushi platter as big as a steering wheel, Adele asks who he's buying gifts for at The Other Woman.

“Can I have the rest of your ginger?” he asks.

Adele nods and Richard helps himself. “You said that you sometimes buy gifts at Kathleen's when you spy on Lorenz,” she prompts.

“I'm surprised Kathleen didn't go running home to report on their size and color.”

“Don't be silly. First of all, we're not that interested in your social—”

“Ha!”

“And secondly, Kathleen is not going to be feeding me the details of your love life while withholding details of her own.”

Richard stops chewing and says solemnly, “I don't like the way that sounds, Dell.”

Adele raises her chin an inch higher and asks, “How does it sound?”

“Angry. Like you're sore at Kathleen. And a little bitter.”

“You don't understand. I love Kathleen.” Her voice breaks slightly on her sister's name.

It reminds him, in an awful rush, that the last time they dined out together he had failed to come to her aid. “Dell,” he says. “Honey. What's the matter?”

She holds up her hand: Don't. I'm fine. It's nothing.

“You're upset. Is it about Kathleen, or you, or this Glazer guy. Or me?”

Adele finds a crumpled tissue in her jacket pocket, and says, “Finish your sushi.”

Richard leans over the table. “Nora. Her name's Nora. I'm staying at her place for the time being and every so often I bring her home a little thank-you gift. Kathleen picks it out. Nothing sexy. Flannel.”

Adele adds beer to her glass but doesn't drink and doesn't answer.

“You think I'm kidding? I'm not. We have an almost pure friendship.”

“What does ‘almost pure' mean? Unconsummated?”

“Exactly.”

“How odd,” says Adele.