Substitute for Love (2 page)

Holly choked on her tea. “You?”

“Yeah — as if economics and business law are the same thing as statistics. Now you — I bet you could walk in the door, with no preparation, and teach a stat class to perfection.”

Holly sincerely doubted that. “I’m way out of practice.”

“Toss a coin two hundred and fifty times. What’s the longest run of heads you’re likely to get?”

“Seven. Why?”

Jo was shaking her head with a mixture of awe and pity. “It took me ninety minutes to figure that out last night. It was the first question on the first test I’d give to a stat class. And that’s just business stat. I turned it down this morning. For someone out of practice…”

“I just remembered the answer, that’s all. It’s a basic question.” She calculated the tip, rounded up to the next dollar and added her own bills to Jo’s to settle the check.

Jo pursed her lips. “You roll a die a hundred times. What’s the likelihood that one number on the die will never come up?”

“One time in one hundred sets of one hundred throws.” Holly was getting irritated. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that you could be teaching — you could be on the road to research grants, publishing, mathematics department chair in any number of colleges. If you finished your Ph.D., Irvine would be wet for you — even Berkeley would be. And that’s just two public schools. The private schools would be just as eager, and that’s before any of them know you can also write an enlightening, engaging monograph when it suits you. You are the most patient person I know. You’d make a great teacher. Forget college, think what you could do in a high school. Teachers have more profound impact on a single life than any movie or book, than art, even. Think of how you could be living proof to the girls that women can be good at math.”

Jo had to know she was on dangerous ground. Jo was the one who hadn’t wanted to talk about Clay. Her silence must have warned Jo she’d gone too far.

“I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I know your aunt tried to beat into you that math was unladylike. That having a brain would cost you any hope of getting a man.”

“I got over it, you know,” Holly said intensely. “You know I did.”

“Yeah,” Jo said, her voice quiet. “You stopped listening to your aunt. But in the end, didn’t Clay tell you the same thing?”

Holly’s tongue felt dry as sandpaper when she answered. “I don’t want to fight about Clay. That is not what he told me.

Jo leaned forward suddenly, her eyes bright with an anger that surprised Holly. “What was his line? That math was anti-humanist? That the master’s degree and Ph.D. you could have had from MIT were just ‘illusory pursuits, pseudo-education’? But did he ever suggest you pursue some other educational field? Was his real problem that you were virtually guaranteed your doctorate when he hadn’t been able to finish his dissertation in four years of trying? He never did finish it, did he? He has nothing but disdain for the practicality of mathematics but I assume he enjoys your paycheck just fine.”

Holly slid out of the booth and didn’t look back. She didn’t want to listen. It was as if she didn’t know Jo anymore.

Her umbrella was nearly useless in the wind, but she put it up anyway. The roar in her ears drowned out Jo’s voice until Jo was right behind her.

“I’m sorry, Holly. I didn’t mean to let it all out like that.”

Holly kept walking toward her car. It was only when she had her key in the lock that she found her voice. “It sounded like you’d been holding that in for a long time.”

“I have. I’m sorry because I know I hurt you.”

“Do you really think so little of me?”

“No — of him. He’s so … no. I’ve said plenty.”

Holly turned to face Jo. Their umbrellas tangled in the wind and rain splashed across their faces. “He’s made me a better person.”

Jo bit her lower lip, then said steadily, “That’s debatable. I’m sorry,” she said again, when Holly began to protest. “I’m being a bitch, but listen. Do me a favor, okay?”

Holly nodded tightly.

Jo wrested their umbrellas apart. “I want you to see if you can go thirty minutes without saying, doing or thinking something and then wondering if Clay would approve.”

Holly’s lips trembled, and she knew that Jo would not mistake her tears for rain. “I don’t know if I want to see you again.”

Jo looked stricken. “Then I really am sorry.” Her lips trembled. “I’ll wait to hear from you then.”

Holly had her door open when Jo spoke again.

“I thought I loved Rod, but then I grew up.”

Holly glanced up, puzzled, but after a searching gaze, Jo hurried away.

A pall hung over the office when she returned to work, but she didn’t notice it until she was seated at her desk. The scene with Jo had left her head spinning with … anger, mostly. Jo had no right to judge her relationship with Clay. Jo didn’t understand. Nothing she had said was true.

She entered her computer password without noticing the unnatural silence and was confronted by more than a dozen instant message screens. Then she realized the only audible sounds were the beeps that heralded the messages.

She flicked through the screens with horror. Everyone wanted to know what she thought of the fact that Tori had just been fired.

She slipped down the silent row of cubicles to find Tori.

Tori was obviously trying not to cry, but her eyes glittered with angry tears.

Holly pitched her voice low. “What happened?”

“I missed the mail deadline on the presentation,” Tori snapped, making no effort to avoid being overheard. “I was only told last night that it had to go today. And two hours ago he tells me to reverify everything and it’s still supposed to go in the afternoon pouch. Which is impossible. Then he tells me I’ve had plenty of opportunities to figure out how he works and I’m not catching on. After four years, here’s two weeks’ severance and get out.”

“I can’t believe it.” Tori had worked successfully with at least a dozen different actuaries. Jim Felker was the first one who had had problems with the quality of her work.

“Neither can I.” Tori picked up the photograph she’d had on her desk since New Year’s and added it to the others in the box she was packing.

With a sense of detached horror, Holly stared down at the picture. She’d studied it when she’d first noticed it because Tori looked fabulous. It had been taken at a New Year’s Eve soiree, and she and Geena were both dressed to the nines, Tori in an evening gown that highlighted generous curves and Geena in black pantsuit that glittered with sequins. Geena’s arm rested casually around Tori’s waist and they looked happy and relaxed. The picture had been there for several weeks now, replacing an old one of the two of them in hiking gear. It was the only picture on her desk. What on earth had Jim Felker been referring to earlier?

With a sick sensation in her stomach, Holly put two and two together. God — he had meant Geena. He had described Tori as obsessed with her private life because Tori was gay.

“Did he… say anything else?”

“He said sometimes people just aren’t compatible. He thought I’d be more … comfortable … elsewhere. Someplace other than fascist Orange County, I’m sure.”

“Shit.” Holly was willing to bet that the driver had thought Rosa Parks would be more comfortable in the back of the bus. She was well aware that Orange County was overwhelmingly conservative, but there was finally a state law that banned discrimination in employment against gays. How was Jim Felker going to get away with this? Where was Sue?

Tori looked at her sharply, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I figure. I thought it was okay to be out, even in our little corner of California. I’ve been out the whole time. He’s the one who’s new. And it’s not like I spend much time talking about my private life — not like some people.” She sent a bitter gaze in the direction of Diane’s cubicle. Diane was notorious for talking about her last tryst and devoting hours to arranging her next one. In Holly’s opinion, Diane ought to have been reined in long ago. She’d said as much to Sue during a quarterly review. Diane wasn’t half as productive as Tori.

She realized then that she would be the one expected to train Tori’s replacement. She’d be the one reviewing all of the newcomer’s work for three months.

It wasn’t fair. Holly knew the inconvenience to her was nothing compared to what Tori was going through. None of it was fair.

“Don’t leave until I get back,” she told Tori.

As she walked toward Jim’s office she knew what she was going to do. She made up her mind all in an instant and then had the gratifying thought that Clay, for once, would applaud her lapse into spontaneous action.

She entered Jim’s office without knocking. That was a first for her. She surprised Sue, their unit manager, in the midst of an angry exchange with a mulish-looking Jim. “Would anyone like my opinion?”

Sue didn’t answer until the office door had closed. Then she pushed back the gray lock that had escaped from her habitual tight bun. “Holly, I know you’re probably upset, but employee relations don’t come under your purview—”

“Except when I have to help hire, train and manage the new person. You’re throwing away someone who is very good at what she does, regardless of what the new kid on the block thinks.” Holly was breathing hard and unsure where her courage was coming from. But she would not back down.

Sue, normally unflappable, seemed to be having a hard time controlling her temper as well. “As I said, this matter does not concern you.”

“He shouldn’t have the authority to fire her. That has always been a screwed-up policy. The analysts report to you, but an actuary can fire any of us.”

“She missed an important deadline,” Jim pronounced.

“An impossible deadline she only knew about for less than a day. And you had her reverifying data I offered to check over.” She turned to Sue. “He fired her because she’s gay. Anything else is just crap.”

Sue favored Jim with a look that said she’d happily supervise torture designed just for him. She turned reso-utely back to Holly. “Work quality has suffered.”

Dumbfounded by Sue’s defense of what Jim had done, Holly said with her last bit of patience, “Think about it statistically, Sue. One actuary in the more than dozen Tori has worked with finds problems with her work. Logically, the problem lies with the actuary, not with Tori.”

Jim came to life. “That’s dangerously close to insubordination.”

“Are you going to fire me, too?”

“I don’t know why you’re defending her.” Jim’s whining tone grated on Holly’s last nerve. “It’s not as if you’re like her. You’re normal. People like us shouldn’t have to put up with her constant reminders about her sex life.”

“In the four years I’ve worked with her, Tori has never referred to her sex life. Diane, however, spent a year in a work-hours-only cybersex relationship with some guy in accounting. A fact which I mentioned to you, Sue. Diane still works here, getting full-time pay for half-time productivity.”

Sue was near an exploding point. She knew Sue had been with Alpha Indemnity for nearly thirty years, and yet Holly had never heard of Sue losing it over anything. “None of this is relevant — “

“I’ll testify for Tori if she wants to get a lawyer. This is discrimination, plain and simple.”

Jim said smugly, “It’ll be hard to find a sympathetic judge for her kind in Orange County. She was tardy twice this month, too.”

Sue slapped her hand down on his desk. “Will you just be quietV She swallowed hard and turned a steely gaze on Holly. “For the last time, this does not concern you.”

“Tardy? What kind of joke is that? We all work late all the time!” Holly took a deep breath. This was unbelievable. She could hear Clay urging her on. It was the right thing to do. Talking to Felker wouldn’t get her anywhere. She gave Sue one last try. “I’ve always respected you, Sue. I know it’s not easy managing a group of highly paid, know-it-all professionals, but you do it well. Until now, you’ve managed to keep the relationships between us analysts and the actuaries calm. But this is too much. I can’t believe you don’t see how wrong it is. Tardy — that’s just crap and you know it.”

Sue said nothing, though her lips worked with anger and frustration. They shared a long gaze. Holly suddenly felt as if an equation she hadn’t realized was incomplete had solved itself in her head. Sue the spinster, with no visible private life. Solve for the simplest answer.

More gently, Holly said, “Maybe you do.” Something new flared in Sue’s gaze. She’s afraid, Holly realized. Tori is expendable as long as her secret is safe. “Maybe that makes you worse than he is.”

Sue’s mouth thinned to a pale line. “Don’t make this harder, Holly.”

Holly dismissed Jim with a flick of her eyes. “I’ll make it simpler. She goes, I go.”

Among Aunt Zinnia’s many rules for the comportment of girls and women was: “Threats are promises. Decent women keep their promises.”

Holly had made a threat and she had carried it out. With dignity and pride, she told herself.

“You didn’t have to go and get yourself fired.” Tori stared fixedly out the passenger window as they drove toward Tori’s home in nearby Costa Mesa. One hand nervously fiddled with a hanging thread that had resulted when her sweater sleeve had snagged on something deep in her file cabinet. Sweaters can be replaced, Holly thought, but not one that so precisely matched the smoky topaz of Tori’s eyes. Aunt Zinnia would categorize Tori’s fashion sense as “smart,” her second-highest compliment. The top was “classy,” which was reserved for royalty and Jackie O. Holly had never achieved either level.

“Technically, I wasn’t fired. I resigned.” Holly turned up the wiper speed and slowed down a little. “Besides, you needed a ride home.”

She meant it as a joke, but Tori shot her a guilty look. “Now I feel even worse.”

“I’m teasing. I had no idea you were commuting with Geena. What were you going to do, wait in the lobby for three or four hours?”

“Geena could pick me up early—” The rest of Tori’s answer was cut short by the chirp of her cell phone. “Finally! That has to be her.”

Holly had no choice but to listen, though she pretended to be wholly absorbed in driving.