Страница 12 из 77
“What kind of dog?” Kathleen asked.
“She was a mix. I think she had some Labrador in her, but she was smaller and furrier than a Lab. I used to pin her ears to the side of her head and say she was an otter.” Lucy finished a row and turned her knitting over. “I could do anything I wanted to that dog and she never got mad, just licked me harder.”
“Wish I could find a guy like that,” Sari said.
“You ever have a dog?” Kathleen asked her.
“For like four weeks. Some therapist told my mother that a pet would help Charlie co
“Wouldn't it be fu
“I should get a dog,” Lucy said. “It would be nice to have a friendly face to come home to at the end of a hard day.”
“You work long hours and then you go out at night,” Sari said. She flicked at the row counter again. “Don't you think a dog might get a little lonely?”
“I could hire someone to walk it.”
“Then what's the point?” Kathleen said. “Someone else plays with the dog you bought. And it would still be alone too much. You'd feel guilty and stressed and-”
“Okay, okay,” Lucy said. “So maybe it's not the right time. Someday, though, I’m going to get one.”
“When you grow up,” Kathleen said. “I like that color green, Lucy. What are you making?”
“A sweater.”
“Really? I thought sweaters took too long.”
“You haven't heard the best part,” Sari said. “It's for James.”
“You're making a sweater for your boyfriend? Kathleen said. “You're nuts.”
“Why is that nuts?”
“You should only ever knit for yourself,” Kathleen said. “That's the first rule of the single girl's knitting handbook. It's the only rule.” She put down her work and held up her hand. “You try to knit a guy a sweater, then one of two things will happen”-she raised her index finger-”either he'll break up with you just as you're finishing it, which means you have to destroy all your work or spend the rest of your life trying to find another guy exacdy the p-”even ifsame size, or”-another finger went up-“even if you do get to give it to him, he won't like it or ever wear it and it'll make you so mad, you'll end up breaking up with him. And some future girlfriend of his will find it one day and tear it to pieces. Trust me, you only want to knit stuff for yourself.” She picked up her knitting and waved it at them. “Slinky gold tank tops, girls. That's where it's at. Follow my lead.”
“Yeah,” Lucy said. “Let's follow the lead of the girl who sleeps on an airbed in someone else's empty apartment. She's obviously going places.”
“I am,” Kathleen said calmly. “Just you wait and see.”
II
When Kathleen's job interview went well the next day (once again she wore her responsible clothes, which were starting to seem lucky as well as responsible), she was immediately hired to start that very week, which convinced her she had been right to tell Lucy she was going places.
On the downside, the job wasn't exactly what you might call high-powered. On her first day at work, she discovered that she wasn't the assistant to Jackson Porter, CEO of Porter and Wachtell, as she'd been led to believe in her interview with the head of perso
Luisa was Jackson Porters secretary, assistant, confidante, advisor, personal shopper… whatever he needed, she had been, for twenty-five long years. Kathleen was Jackson's twenty-fifth a
As it turned out, Luisa was fairly proprietary about her boss and not all that interested in giving up any of her access to him, so Kathleen spent most of those first days fetching coffee, typing the occasional memo, answering the phones, and organizing drawers of stationery supplies.
She considered being disgruntled but decided it wasn't all that bad. For one thing, her job was pretty easy, since Luisa wasn't used to asking anyone to wait on her and didn't like other people to wait on Jackson. For another, the central position of Kathleen's desk-in front of the wall outside Jackson's office-allowed her to observe and eventually meet anyone at the firm who caught her interest.
Kathleen was good at meeting people. The first few days she was there, she wore bright-colored silk tops and called out cheery hellos to anyone who came within a few feet of her desk. It wasn't long before a lot of the guys at Porter and Wachtell were finding excuses to wander by the new girl's desk. Even the women were happy to discover there were new and enthusiastic ears to pour old rumors into.
She learned very quickly that three of the top businessmen who were always rushing around in suits and ties were not just Jackson's employees but also his sons. And that, while the older two were married, the youngest one was not. “And he's the nice one,” one of the secretaries had added before tossing down her third Ultra Slim-Fast chocolate shake of the lunch break.
“Is he straight?” Kathleen asked.
“Why wouldn't he be?” The secretary sounded almost insulted, so Kathleen quickly said, “No reason. I just dated a guy once who turned out to be gay.”
“I guess that can happen,” the woman said. “But Kevin Porter's had tons of girlfriends since I started working here. And”- as if it settled the subject-“they're always very pretty.”
Well of course they were, Kathleen thought. The guy was worth hundreds of millions-he could pick and choose. And if Kevin Porter were the kind of guy who cared what a girl looked like, Kathleen was the kind of girl who was realistic enough to know that meant he was bound to notice her sooner or later.
It was sooner. Kevin came walking up to her later that same day to introduce himself and welcome her to the team. (Literally-that's what he said-“Welcome to the team.”) He had a nice face and good posture and met her eyes when he talked to her. Kathleen had gone out with far less appealing men. And he was wildly rich. Hadn't Sari told her that a rich guy was her fastest path to a happy future?
Which made her think she was really growing up-here she was, thinking about her future. What better sign of maturity than that?