The woman slipped on a pair of very thick glasses and said, "You won't be."
"Then shouldn't we wait for Wesley?"
"He's not coming. You do nude?"
"Excuse me?"
"Do you go buff for bucks?"
***
As the cab came down Ninth Avenue, Julia checked her lipstick in the rearview mirror and locked eyes with a man who looked as if he didn't care to be reminded that cosmetics existed. As if she'd just offered to give him a tour of a hot-dog factory, the driver's face said that while he might enjoy the finished product, he really didn't want to know how it gets that way.
She put the lipstick back in her purse and double-checked to make sure she had her lucky pen, although the event at the bookstore wasn't going to be a big deal—that was the idea. Candon had suggested she do an intimate book signing at a small, independent bookseller she had loved during her copy-editing days, so ever the class kiss-up, Julia had agreed, almost asking if any of the faculty needed her to stay late and dust erasers while she was at it.
It was a little thing, Julia told herself. Virtually no publicity. She should be in and out in an hour or two, with very little fuss. Honestly, Julia was starting to wonder if it would even be worth her time. But when the cab turned the corner at Fifty-second Street, she could tell she was going to need a plan B.
At least two hundred women stood outside the bookstore windows. She thought that maybe Hollywood was filming a Brad Pitt movie or some plastic surgeon was inside handing out free Botox. Perhaps Burberry was giving scarves and umbrellas to the masses to promote their new anyone and their dogs can wear us marketing campaign. Seriously, for a second Julia didn't know what could be causing all the fuss. Then she realized that the fuss was for her.
"Um, excuse me." She leaned close and spoke to the driver. "Do you think there's a side entrance we could try?"
"No way," the driver said. "Crazy lady meeting here today. You the tenth crazy lady I drive here. They all want to go away from the other crazy ladies. I sorry."
"You don't understand," Julia said. "I'm the crazy lady." She reached into her bag, pulled out a copy of 101 Ways to Cheat at Solitaire, and turned to her picture and bio on the back cover. "See," she said, pointing to herself. "Head crazy lady. Really, it's okay. I can go in the back."
"Fine. I take you to the back," he said, then added as if Julia couldn't hear, "crazy lady."
Chapter Two
WAY #7: Take yourself out to dinner.
For many people, dining alone in restaurants can be very intimidating. Most women dread the tone of the hostess's voice when she asks, "Just one today?" But dining alone is essential, If you can't eat alone in a restaurant, how do you expect to accomplish other, grander things on a grander scale? So turn your back to the perceptions, the whispers, the stares, and just enjoy the meal.
—from 101 Ways to Cheat at Solitaire
When Lance reached the office of Poindexter-Stone Talent Agency, he was hit with a wave of deja vu. The crowd was far too reminiscent of his experience at Wesley's, and this time, he was in no mood to stand in line.
Tammy had her great eyes glued to a glossy magazine and was ignoring the multitude of starving future stars who filled the chairs and lined the particleboard walls. She kept the phone in the crook of her neck as she expertly cruised through the ringing lines: "Poindexter-Stone, please hold. Poindexter-Stone, please hold. Poindexter-Stone, please hold."
Unlike the woman at Wesley's, Lance suspected that flirting might still work with Tammy, so he thought about Thai food and eased himself onto the corner of her desk.
"Save it," she snapped before he'd said a word.
"I've got to see Dick," Lance started.
"Don't call Richard Stone 'Dick' if you want to work again."
"Like I'm working now?"
Tammy seemed to accept this as a valid point, and Lance wondered if she was an actress herself. She seemed actress-ish— kind of pretty, a little surly, and as if she hadn't eaten enough to fill herself up in at least three years.
"Well, he's not here," she said, as if the matter was completely out of her hands. Not since Pontius Pilate had someone so completely passed the buck.
"Well, what are we going to do about it?" Lance asked.
She flashed a patronizing grin and gestured to the overflowing room. "You could sit."
Lance glanced back and shook his head. "Not good enough."
"You could call," she said and gestured at the ringing phone covered with blinking lights.
"Don't you think you should answer one of those?"
"If it's important, they call back," she said with a flip of the magazine's pages.
"Fair enough." He got off the desk, sunk to a knee, pulled her bony hand into his, and said, "Tell me where he is."
"No."
"Oh, come on," he pleaded. "It'll save me a lot of time and you a lot of hassle. Come on, just a little hint."
She sighed, looked around at the other actors in the waiting room, then leaned close and whispered in Lance's ear: "Lunch. Stella's. You didn't hear it from me."
Lance kissed her cheek. When the phone rang again, he answered for her: "Poindexter-Stone, please hold."
Julia liked Stella's on Seventy-fifth because they knew her there. Not in the "Hey, you were on TV so I should kiss up to you" sense. They knew her in the same way her father was known at her hometown coffee shop in Oklahoma. No big deal in Fall River, but Julia believed that sort of thing should not go unrewarded on the Upper West Side.
In a word, Giovanni, the maître d', was surreal. He never forgot a name or a drink; he remembered birthdays because, once, on that date, your friend had slipped you a card and paid for lunch. He asked if you'd enjoyed the sea bass on your previous visit, and if you felt up to trying the salmon today. He noticed when you cut your hair.
He was smart and attentive, with a sexy little accent and easy access to excellent food, so if Julia hadn't been so happy being a writer, she might have tried to help the single women of the world in a different way. She might have tried to clone Giovanni.
"Oh, Miss James!" He met her at the threshold, took her hands in his, and kissed both her cheeks. "You come back to Stella's! It's been too long. I see the reservation in the book and I pray it be you!"