Female Intelligence by Jane Heller

Author:Jane Heller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2016-04-22T04:00:00+00:00

20

“So? Tell me what happened?” said Diane after Brock (I was back to calling him that) had left the office.

“Nothing.” I shrugged listlessly. I felt as if I’d been run over by a sport utility vehicle. “I did my best, Diane. He didn’t go for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He thought I was coming on to him, as some sort of a test, to see if he’d take the bait and flunk his ‘final exam.’ I coached him so well on the subject of sexual harassment that he wouldn’t let me sexually harass him. It was a disaster.”

“Wait. Don’t say that, Dr. Wyman. It sounds like it was just a miscommunication, the kind that always goes on between men and women. You know the routine: She loves him but he doesn’t realize it, and then he realizes it but now she’s too proud to admit she loved him in the first place.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be too smart to get stuck in those miscommunications?”

“Why? You’re human, remember? We worked on getting you in touch with your human side.”

“A lot of good it did me.”

“Stop it. You’ve got to stay positive. I have a feeling that once Mr. Brock has had a chance to think things over, he’ll call you.”

“Why should he?”

“Because he’ll miss you. The same way you’ll miss him. You’ll hear from him, no doubt about it.”

I had plenty of doubt about it, and I was right to. The entire month of September went by and there wasn’t a peep out of Brock. I had a call from Naomi once, to thank me yet again for turning her boss into a sweetie pie (her term), but nothing from The Titan himself.

I pined. I really, really missed him. I missed him so much that whenever Diane would run out to do errands, I would skulk into my office, pull out the tape recordings of Brock’s sessions, and listen to them. I’d sit in my chair, straining to catch every nuance of his speech patterns as he practiced his scripts, and I would pretend he was there with me, in body as well as voice. Yes, I agree that there was something slightly masochistic about this, but as I said, I really, really missed him.

October arrived and so, at last, did my divorce from Kip. There hadn’t been a peep out of him, either, not in many months. I had thought about him from time to time, wondered if he was with someone, but only in the way you wonder about a person you’re glad you don’t have to see or talk to and can, therefore, wonder about without obligation.

“Let’s have a ‘Lynn’s divorced’ party,” said Isabel when I told her the marriage had been officially terminated.

“Thanks, but I’m not in a celebrating mood,” I said. I was pretty melancholy, due to the Brandon/Kip combo, plus I remembered what had happened the last time I’d partied with my friends.

No, I buried myself in my work, such as it was, coached the few clients who came to the office.

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