The She-Hulk Diaries (23 page)

It didn’t seem likely that there was a connection between Joocey Jooce and ReplaceMax, but I had an ooky sense. Sometimes you just had to see things for yourself. The Joocey Jooce plant was in New Jersey. I ran to the Mansion’s garage, and the eager new attendant didn’t make me sign a release. I really miss my old flying car. I chose a Cadillac with an invisibility shield, even though invisibility can be problematic.

I shifted on the shield as I approached the Joocey Jooce corporate campus. I parked across from the shipping entrance, beside the Play Nice sports fields. Trucks arrived and left the loading dock with fresh fruit and supplies. Everyone looked cheerful. One stock clerk whistled as he crossed the perfectly clean lot.

There was no barbed wire, no guard dogs, no eerie sense of abandonment. It was all very normal and my ookiness was unwarranted.

I’d only driven a few blocks from Joocey Jooce before I nearly got slammed by a big rig. Sometimes not being seen is more dangerous than being seen. I disengaged the car’s invisibility shield and headed back to the Mansion.

I had been calculating my postponed Valentine’s Day by weeks and coming up with an incorrect date. February 14 is the forty-fifth day of the year, so my postponed VD should be no earlier than the ninetieth day of the year, which is the eve of April 1. I don’t want any PFLOML to think a date the night before April 1 is a joke, so I am moving it to April 2.

Another day of brain-scrambling paperwork with Genoa. One of the assistants brought in lunch and asked us what flavor of Joocey Jooce we wanted.

Genoa and I had just brewed up a pot of Earl Grey tea, so we said no thanks.

When the assistant had gone, Genoa added, “I don’t drink Joocey Jooce on principle.” She tugged at her ponytail, which is why it is always sideways.

“Why not?”

“I resent their motto.
Play nice.
I don’t need some marketing person telling me how to behave. It’s unnatural.”

“No, it’s completely organic.”

“I mean their attitude. The niceness gives me the creeps. All those employees are too friendly. They’re either being cattle-prodded or they’ve been lobotomized. It’s not normal for New York.”

“I thought that, too. But behavior can be changed.”

“Only for five minutes, like with New Year’s Resolutions—everyone starts out with great intentions, and two weeks later, they’re completely forgotten. Actual change requires motivation, effort, and constant vigilance.”

She picked up one of her action figures and walked it across her desk.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Fanny Price from
Mansfield Park
. She’s the poor, meek relation. She’s always sick and in love with her wimpy cousin, but she stands by her principles. I know, a grown woman playing with dolls. Feel free to mock.”

“Only if you mock back,” I said. “I’m on a LARP team. Do you know what that is?”

“Terrestrial or extraterrestrial? Present-day or future?”

“Terrestrial and the Middle Ages.”

“Do you have costumes and festivals?”

“I just joined this group and we’re having battle games at the end of May. They’ll be held near Woodstock. This job doesn’t give me time to participate much.”

Genoa danced the figure on her keyboard. “It’s fun, isn’t it, having an imaginary life with imaginary characters outside the tenseness of our jobs?” She smiled and said, “Donner suggested that I wear Regency-era dresses to work.”

“Does he tease you often?”

“Constantly.”

“I can talk to him about it if you like, or you can discuss it with HR.”

Genoa stared at me with her clear gray eyes and then burst into laughter. When she was able to speak, she said, “I appreciate your offer, but I can tell my own husband to STFU whenever I want.”

“Donner’s your
husband
? He didn’t mention it.”

“It’s company policy not to bring our personal business into the office. Amber’s a good example. She never lets her relationship with Ellis the fourth—you do know about that, right? That doesn’t influence her one bit as far as I can see. Amber is one hundred percent professional. She’s the exception to the rule about resolutions. I bet she checks off every item on her New Year’s List.”

Got home from work. Tried to microwave scrambled eggs for dinner. Bad idea. Tried to improve them with ketchup, a worse idea. Don’t have the willpower to go to a singles meet-up. I will die alone surrounded by court dockets in an apartment that smells like cat urine from the previous tenant because I won’t even have the time to hoard cats on my own.

Once I was a sexy flesh-eating bacteria girl and now I am a
ma’am
. I only hope that Fritz won’t see the desperation on my face when I ask him out. Does that mean I have to sleep with him? He’s probably good at sex. I probably thought Ellis was outstanding at sex only because I’d been so inexperienced. The bar was set so low that any guy who had a rudimentary grasp of female anatomy seemed gifted. To give credit where credit is due, Ellis’s understanding of female anatomy was at the “class valedictorian,” not “mandatory summer school,” level.

I am one month and two days into my resolutions and halfway (thirty days) to my sixty-day deadline to give Fritz an answer to his colleagues-with-benefits proposal.

I just saw him walk down the hall and was gearing myself to go talk to him when Sven Morigi called, making me feel as if I was a death row prisoner getting the governor’s reprieve. (I don’t know why governors procrastinate until the last minute, because they could give timely reprieves and save everyone a truckload of anxiety.)

“Dr. Morigi, hello!” I said, sounding
way
too reprieve-relieved.

“Sven,” he corrected. “I’m glad I caught you.”

“Why? Do you have any more information about ReplaceMax’s malfeasances?”

“Actually, yes…. Can we discuss it over dinner?”

I felt frazzled and grimy. “Or you can come in tomorrow and meet with me.”

“I’m not available tomorrow. I’ll pick you up in ten minutes in front of your building.”

Dinner with Sven could definitely be classified as balancing work and life. I said, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Dahlia had schooled me on fast makeover tips, and I twisted up my hair in a casual bun, blotted my shiny spots with powder tissues, and touched up my makeup.

I raided my armoire for an ivory silk shell with ruffle trim so I’d look more feminine. I pulled on heeled boots, willing to take the risk to be stylish. I glanced in the mirror and thought I looked good, not as if I was trying too hard.

I went downstairs exactly on time, just as a gleaming black Peugeot was pulling up. A large man in the front passenger seat jumped out to open the back door for me. I slid in beside Sven and noticed that the driver was also large. These men must be Sven’s guards.

Sven was so beautiful that I went stiff with nerves when he gave me a kiss on each cheek, which might be the way Europeans conduct business. I have to check on their practices.

He said, “I’m so pleased that you could tear yourself away from work. I hope you enjoy Hungarian food.”

I told him I’d never had it and asked if his family was from Hungary.

“We come from Central Europe and the borders changed frequently, but Hungarian is closest to our culture,” he said. “My family was nomadic, moving from place to place looking for a safe haven.”

“Have you found a safe haven here in New York?”

“I hope so, despite the Club Nice incident. Every time I see the Statue of Liberty, I remember my first visit here and how deeply moved I was at the sight. The skyscrapers and the streets teeming with life made me feel as if the entire city was a laboratory where I could conduct experiments that had never been imagined before.” He smiled. “I am a scientist, and so I see through a scientist’s eyes. I’m sure the experience was different for you.”

“Yes, although I’m still dazzled by this city,” I said. “Is everything going all right with your guards? Do you feel secure?”

“Indeed, and I look forward to a relaxing few hours with you, Jennifer.”

The driver took us to MacDougal Street, and the other guard opened the back door for us. We got out in front of an old-time diner with boarded
up windows. I looked around for the sort of fancy restaurant that someone like Sven would like, but he placed his hand on my elbow and guided me toward the closed diner.

“Here we are,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I often miss food from my homeland, which is very difficult to find even in this metropolis. I keep this place for my dinners out.”

One of the bodyguards opened the door for us.

As Sven and I stepped inside, I saw a small, inviting room with dark red damask wallpaper, shimmering crystal sconces, and oxblood leather seating. Delicious aromas wafted from the kitchen, and I could hear the faint clang of pots and pans. On a small platform, a man in a folk costume played the guitar and sang a melancholy tune in what I guessed was Hungarian. I liked it a whole lot better than opera, and I awarded myself twenty culture points.

A waiter greeted Sven and guided us to a table set with snowy linen, crystal, and silver. The old-fashioned luxury was very comfortable, and it was supercool to have the whole place to ourselves.

“Sven, this is lovely!”

“I’m glad it’s to your liking. It’s simpler than having the chef, Domonkos, come to my house, because he complains about the kitchen and argues with my housekeeper,” he said with a smile. “Also, I like to dine out—it’s different, isn’t it, than having a meal at one’s home?”

“It is. You’ve devised a wonderful solution.”

Sven signaled to the waiter. I watched his face in the candlelight. He was so good-looking it was almost spooky. Wine would definitely help my nerves, and I was grateful when the waiter filled our glasses.

Sven looked me in the eyes, raised his glass, said “
Egészségedre!
” (which I have looked up to spell right). “It means to your health.”

When I tried to repeat the word, he smiled and said, “ ‘Cheers’ will do. The mispronunciation is rather rude.”

I hated when that happened. “Cheers, then.” I took a few quick sips of wine before trusting myself to ask him what important news he’d learned.

“Only that you’re a most charming companion, Jennifer.”

Whoa! Continental smoothie alert!

“I apologize for using a pretext to draw you away from work. I feared that if I asked you out to dinner, you would decline.”

“You’re my client, Dr. Morigi, so naturally I want to spend as much time with you as possible.” That was a slick response, right?

“You’re calling me Dr. Morigi again. I’m tremendously attracted to you, Jennifer.”

“I, um, ah…” I was quickly reviewing my requirements for my boyfriend goal. Even though Sven didn’t currently have a job, he was absolutely qualified. Okay, he hadn’t been especially funny so far, but that contingency could be waived because he was so OMG! amazingly gorgeous!

“Surely this doesn’t surprise you, Jennifer. Men must fall at your feet.”

I couldn’t say, “Only when I flip them over,” so I just smiled and said, “Sven, I really want to focus on your very important case.”

“As you wish,” he said with a little nod of his head. “I wanted you to represent me because of your fine qualities as an attorney and an individual. I’m aware of all the charitable work you’ve done on behalf of the needy. The longer I live, the more I comprehend that kindness is a greater achievement than the acquisition of power. A court victory would mean nothing to me if I felt that my attorney didn’t truly believe in justice.”

Perhaps it was the wine, but I said, “Ellis Quintal the Fourth urged me not to take this case. He’s friends with Max Kirsch and believes my only motive is financial.”

Sven’s expression altered slightly, but I couldn’t tell what it meant. It was like when the optometrist asks me, “Which is clearer, A or B?” and the change is so imperceptible that I have no idea.

He said, “Ms. Tumbridge’s engagement to Quintal Four was disclosed to me, and I’m assured that it will not interfere with her excellent work on my behalf. It goes without saying that you won’t be swayed by his ignorant and hostile opinions.”

If it went without saying, then why did Sven say it? “Certainly not. I’m fully committed to every client I represent. However, considering Ellis’s attitude, I was surprised that he stepped in to defend you at Club Nice.”

Sven tilted his head and looked at me quizzically. “How did you know that?”

“Um, I saw a video on the news when they managed to take time out of showing that Cute-Clip-of-the-Day about that frolicking rat.” I focused on the sheep’s cheese dip and said, “This cheese is delicious.”

Sven’s lips seemed tense as he said, “Ms. Tumbridge strikes me as more than capable of making important decisions, so I’m sure marrying Quintal is ideal for her—but I’m glad you’re not the one engaged to him.”

“Me? I don’t even like him,” I said too quickly. “I mean, I don’t know him well enough to have an opinion of him one way or another.”