Cheating at Solitaire(4)

In the background, Julia heard Cassie cry out, "I'll be this many!" She imagined her niece holding out a plump little hand with five splayed fingers.

"Well," Caroline continued, "she saw something on television about FAO Schwarz, and now she's just dying for something from there—her words, not mine. Dying for it."

"We've created a monster," Julia said.

"No, big sister, you created this particular monster. I'm just the one who has to feed and clothe it twenty-four hours a day. Anyway, since you're there ..."

"Okay," Julia said, cutting Caroline off before she could cross through the doorway marked Danger: Sleep-Deprived and Underappreciated Nursing Mother Ahead—Proceed at Own Risk. "I'll see what I can do," Julia conceded. "Kiss the munchkins for me."

"Do it yourself on Saturday," her sister replied.

"Gladly." Julia hung up the phone and turned her attention to the package. Inside the envelope was a printout from the

Web site of the fabulous FAO Schwarz. It had careful red circles around a half dozen items.

"She really is a monster," Julia said to herself, then slipped the piece of paper into her purse and dropped the envelope in the trash. She got into the elevator and went up to her suite to change.

When Lance's name was finally called, he was escorted into the office by a woman whose manner made it clear that whatever appeal actors had ever held for her had worn off years before; experience in her business was like Kryptonite for hunks. In this woman's presence, even his best smile was worthless. Instead, Lance had learned, efficiency was what she valued. If you show up early, have your pictures out of the envelope and ready to hand over, and you don't waste her time, a little bit of her will love you forever.

She took the pictures he offered. "Strip to the waist," she said, choosing, he surmised, to show her affection on the inside.

Lance started taking off his shirt. "Who will I be reading with?" he asked.

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