took Dani a disgracefully long time to splutter, “Er, yes. Me. My name, rather. That is indeed my name. Correct. Thank you.” Oh dear goddess, did I just say ‘thank you’?
Inez Holly gave a quirk of the lips that might, on a less stately lady, have been referred to as a smirk. “Did you need the toilet?”
“Pardon? Oh, no.” Then, realizing that sounded quite odd, Dani added, “I just wanted to come in and . . . check my hair.” Wonderful. Now, rather than odd, she sounded both vain and ridiculous, since hair less than two inches long was not exactly in need of regular checking.
But Inez Holly refrained from passing judgment, for she was great and merciful. “Well, by all means, claim a mirror.”
Would it be awkward to take the mirror next to Inez Holly? Would it be insulting not to take the mirror next to Inez Holly? Dani considered this for a few feverish seconds before realizing it was a moot point, since there were only three mirrors and Inez Holly was in the middle.
Pull yourself together! She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the reassuring lump of her garnet beneath. Self-confidence. She never lacked it, usually, not in this arena. And she was on something of a roll today; she’d properly acknowledged her ever-so-minor workaholic tendencies and aced the panel she’d spent so long preparing for. She could certainly handle this.
Inez Holly gave her an amused sideways glance as Dani squared her shoulders and chose a mirror. “Has anyone ever told you that you think very loudly?”
“Yes.” Dani fished out Charlotte Tilbury’s Legendary Queen from her handbag. “I do hope it wasn’t distracting, out there.”
“Not at all. I enjoyed sitting on the panel with you, you know. It’s always nice to meet other sensible people in one’s field.”
Dani very nearly drew a line of wine-red lipstick across her own face. “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Right. I—thank you.” Inez Holly called me sensible! Just wait until Zaf heard about this. Then it occurred to her that she should probably take advantage of this miraculous moment. “Professor Holly, would it be all right if I asked you a question?”
Inez Holly turned to face her. “The teacher in me wants to point out that you just did. By the way, great lipstick, but you should probably . . .”
“Oh, yes.” Apply lipstick to bottom lip as well as top lip, then ask meaningful question. That done, Dani forged on. “I was wondering—well, you’re quite inspirational to me. I hope to be where you are in some years’ time. I’m working toward it, but it’s not always easy, and I was wondering if you might have any advice.” Which was the sort of open-ended question Dani usually abhorred, but she thought it best to leave Inez Holly with options. She might prefer to share advice like “Always wear matching underwear in case you get hit by a truck” over the personal, in-depth secrets of her career so far.
At least, Dani had assumed she might. But that assumption, like so many she’d made lately, proved wrong. “My advice?” Inez Holly arched an eyebrow. “I’d say . . . anything you want to do, you can. Hurdles were made to be jumped, glass ceilings were made to be smashed.” She leaned in closer. “But all that can be exhausting, so make sure you take care of yourself, too. There’s great value in the things that bring you joy.”
Dani blinked, taken aback. “Things that bring me joy?”
“Outside of work,” Inez Holly added pointedly. “Don’t forget that part. I know your type. I was your type.”
Dani suspected she should feel chastened right now, rather than pleased by any comparison to Inez Holly.
Regardless, the word joy circled her mind, refusing to be ignored. She could hardly write off the very advice she’d asked for, even if it was somewhat unexpected, so she let the word settle and noticed the memories it produced. Apparently, joy was dinner with her ridiculous sisters, bingeing Netflix shows with her nonsensical best friend, arguing with her ludicrous grandmother. Repotting her plants, dyeing her hair for no discernable reason, being with Zafir—
She cut that last thought off for now. Whacked a fence around it and resolved to deal with it later. Then she asked, “Is it a bad sign if all the things that bring me joy seem to be vaguely absurd?”
“Certainly not,” Inez Holly said serenely, and waggled a mauve gel manicure in Dani’s direction. “Once every two weeks,