What A Girl Wants (10 page)

Hayley really hoped Bruno wouldn't feel compelled to kiss-kiss her, at least not this first time out. Instead he took both her hands in his, which was disconcerting enough.

“Audra tells me you're experiencing an inability to make decisions and improve your life.”

He had a very thick accent—the kind a person from San Francisco would think of as Long Island.
Just go with it.
Hayley cleared her throat. “Yes. That sounds pretty close.”

“Mmm. You're working on a couple of different things. Career and love. But you find yourself stymied.”

Hayley was already beginning to feel a little antsy and they hadn't even started yet. “Uh, that's right.”

“Mmm.” He clicked his tongue and, still holding her hands, moved her arms outward and looked her up and down. “Why don't you make yourself comfortable on the chaise, and we'll begin.”

With her arms held out away from her sides, Hayley felt exposed, not comfortable. And he still hadn't let go—just held her hands and looked at her. As politely as she could, Hayley pulled away and went over to the . . .

. . . What the hell is this thing and how are you supposed sit on it?

Hayley perched awkwardly on the oh-so-modern mutated couch-bed combo furniture thing and arranged her robe around her.

Bruno made himself comfortable in a lavender velour club chair. Diane chose a similar chair in robin's-egg blue and sat down next to him. She pulled out her Palm and the two of them sat there in pastel velour hell just staring at her.

Hayley swallowed hard. This was going to take serious effort.

Diane looked at Bruno and said, “Why don't we start with that exercise you do?”

Hold everything.
Hayley sat up. “I'm sorry, Bruno, could you give me just a minute? I just need to ask Diane something.”

Bruno looked at his watch and shrugged.

Hayley tried to lean over to the side, so Bruno couldn't hear. “Diane, what are you doing?”

“Sorry?”

“I thought you were just here . . . for me.” Hayley didn't actually want to say the word “hostile” in front of Bruno. Didn't want to give him any ideas.

She had a suspicion he was like one of those TV psychics who used anything you said as a clue to guess the details of your problem, and then gave you some generic predictions that could apply to just about anyone. If he were really as good as Audra said, he wouldn't need any hints.

Meanwhile, Diane was fumbling for some sort of explanation. “Oh. Right. Well, I'm also using you as the subject of my paper. I've decided to expand the scope and follow your journey.” She coughed. “Didn't I tell you?”

Hayley sat up as straight as she could in the “chaise.” “Uh, no, you didn't. What do you mean by ‘my journey'? I thought you were just writing about porn?”

The corner of Bruno's left eye twitched.

“I'm not writing about porn, per se. I'm writing about sexuality. It just so happens it's your sexuality. Your ‘sexual journey,' if you will. In the context of larger goals. The porn epiphany is only one small part of that.”

“Whoa. My sexuality? That would be one short paper, since I haven't managed to scrounge up even a bad date since you started
working on this thing. Believe me, as much as I'd like to pretend otherwise, two dry-humping incidents do not a sexual journey make. And as it just so happens, I don't much like the idea of being your sexual subject matter.”

Bruno's eye twitched again and he pressed down on the spot with his fingers. Diane glanced at him, frustration starting to break through her usually neutral surface.

“Look,” Hayley said, “I understand you're getting a little desperate about this paper, but I don't feel too positive about seeing my name and the words ‘porn' and ‘sex' used together in hard copy for public distribution.”

“You'll be anonymous, I promise. And it's an honor, really. It's an academic paper. Come on, Hayley, I need this.” She leaned forward and whispered, “It's not just the paper. I'm thinking of becoming Bruno's protégé. I graduate in one year and I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do with an MBA. I don't even balance my checkbook. Just let me do this, please?”

Hayley rolled her eyes. This was no time for Diane to start having a crisis, for God's sake. Hayley wasn't even close to being finished with her own. Better give her what she wanted. “Fine. Whatever.”

Bruno adjusted his jock and tapped his watch. “Ladies, I beg your pardon, but the session only lasts thirty minutes. If we could get started, please?” He leaned forward and put his hand on Hayley's shoulder, pressing her down on the chaise to a prone position.

“Let's begin the exercise. Hayley, I'd like you to please close your eyes and relax.” He masterfully altered his voice from Long Island to a deep, calming swamilike incarnation. “We're going to begin with an exercise called ‘daydream projection.' Breathe in deeply . . . breathe out deeply . . . in . . . out . . . in . . . out . . . okay,
now, Hayley, I want you to put yourself in a place of perfection. Youuu aaaarrre perfectionnnnn. . . .”

Perfection? No wonder Audra liked this guy. Hayley opened one eye. “I'm sorry. Do you mean that I'm supposed to pretend that I'm actually perfect or is it that I'm supposed to pretend that I'm perfect but I'm actually somebody else?”

Bruno looked at Diane, concerned. “What are these questions?”

“She's new.”

Bruno massaged the diamonds on his watch thoughtfully, then turned back to Hayley. “Okay, what I'm asking is for you to tell me what a perfect you would be like . . . perfect on the inside and outside. With no insecurities, no jealousies, no demands. Let your mind go free and think about it for a few moments . . . then tell me what kind of you, you see.”

No insecurities, no jealousies, no demands. That would really be something. Hayley closed her eyes again and tried her best to let her mind go free. “I'm not sure . . . okay . . . it's a little hazy. Okay. I think I see some sort of foliage . . . yeah, jungle foliage . . .”

“I need you to concentrate.”

She could hear the impatience in his voice. What was he getting so worked up about? She was the one with the problems. “I
am
concentrating.”

“And what is it you see?”

“I'm tall . . . I'm blond yet extremely intelligent . . . I have a great body . . . I have weaponry skills. I think I'm French—”

“Hold it.”

Hayley opened her eyes to find Bruno staring at her like a scientist who'd just discovered an astonishing new specimen of idiot. His jaw was clenched, and she could see a vein twitching in the side of his neck.

Bruno looked at Diane. “Ms. Gradenger, may I see you privately for a moment?”

Hayley figured it must be bad if he was using her last name like that. And sure enough, Diane frowned at Hayley, then stood up and followed Bruno into the corner for an animated discussion.

They returned and sat down. Diane gave her one of those wide-eyed warning looks. Composed again, Bruno smiled and said, “Let's try something more traditional. Why do you think you got fired from your job?”

Okay, this was the odd thing about therapists or analysts or coaches or whatever he was: You tell strangers personal information. That was just a really odd concept for Hayley to deal with. Of course, the more problems you had, or the more serious the problems, the more you needed to see a therapist, and the less he would seem like a stranger.

But, as much as Hayley wanted to give it an honest go, for her friend's sake if for no other reason, she didn't think there was too much progress to be made in the remaining fifteen minutes during a one-time-only session.

That was becoming patently obvious.

“I think I got fired because I wanted to get fired. I didn't want to do what I was doing anymore.”

“Why didn't you simply find another job you wanted to do and then quit the one you disliked?”

“Because I obviously have a very serious problem committing to change.”

“Mmm. Ahh.”

Hayley looked at Bruno. He looked quite pleased. What, did the guy think he earned a gold star for that? She just told him what the problem was. He hadn't uncovered anything new.

“And you put on a degrading costume in a bar because . . . because why?”

Degrading? What kind of uplifting personal coach sort of adjective was that? Hayley sat up. “Hey, buddy, don't knock the dress. It looks stupid, but the minute you put it on—”

“Hayley, let the man do his job,” Diane pleaded.

“I'm not hearing any revelations, here.” Hayley could feel it coming—she could feel it, even as Diane gave her the most begging, pleading look she was capable of. But Hayley couldn't stop herself. Or wouldn't.

Pure sarcasm dripped from her voice as she looked at Bruno down her nose and said, “I seem to be figuring it all out for both of us. How much is he charging, Diane? Because I'm actually kind of good at this.”

Bruno crossed his arms over his chest. “Interesting reaction, Hayley. Why do you think you're so hostile?”

“Okay, that's it, Diane. I'm done.”

Bruno just looked at her indulgently and smiled. “You're not even close to done.”

Hayley flicked her ankle and sent one fuzzy slipper flying over Diane's and Bruno's heads smack against the pink-tinged wall.

“W
ell, how did it go?” Audra asked. “Isn't Bruno fabulous?”

Hayley leaned against Audra's desk. “Let's just say that he didn't make me feel better and he didn't make me feel worse. But I really appreciate the gesture.”

Audra gazed at her for a moment and then said, “You must be one of those delayed-reaction people.”

“What you mean?” Hayley froze. “Do they put something in that tea?”

Her friend laughed. “Don't be silly. That's not what I meant. . . . Did Diane leave?”

“Yeah, she seemed really tired by the time the whole Bruno thing was done. And I think she's starting to get really nervous again about graduating.”

“Well, if she didn't insist on taking summer school, she wouldn't graduate so quickly. And I'm so tired of all those ceremonies, anyway. They're incredibly boring, those huge public-university graduations. I don't understand why they don't have
everybody wait in a bar. They could just page you when it's time for your friend to claim her diploma.” Audra shook her head. “Diane won't be able to avoid working forever.”

Audra's assistant knocked again and opened the door. “Nanette from Neiman Marcus Union Square is here.” She stepped aside and ushered in an impeccably made-up brunette wearing a light yellow-and-black Chanel summer suit.

Nanette looked wispy but she walked like a tank, and behind her she pulled a mobile garment rack three times her size. It was crammed with clothes and featured a built-in top shelf packed with shoeboxes.

“You'll need to remove your shoes and step up on the coffee table,” she said curtly. She went over to the coffee table and began pushing it to the center of the room.

Hayley looked at Audra and grinned. “So this is how rich people shop.”

“She's talking to you, Hay.”

Hayley's smile vanished. “No way. She's talking to you.”

Nanette marched up to Hayley. “I'm talking to you.”

“Nanette is my personal shopper. She's here to take care of you.” Audra put her arms behind her head and leaned back in her leather executive chair to watch.

Hayley held up her hands in protest. “Believe me, I'd love for Nanette to take care of me in the manner to which you've become accustomed, but there is no way I can afford your personal shopper. If you want to call the Gap personal shopper, I'll start stripping down immediately.”

“Nonsense,” Audra said, looking horrified. “You're going to try for a job today and we need you to look the part.”

“That's really sweet of you, but the thing is that you don't
generally wear supernice clothes to techie job events. It's a dead giveaway that you don't have any experience in the industry.”

“Nonsense,” Audra repeated dismissively. “You can never look too good for this sort of thing.”

There was really no point in trying to explain. Audra would never understand that worn-out cargo pants and blue hair were considered indicators of likely technical genius. “Well, the thing is, I need to leave in, like, half an hour.”

“Fine. Half an hour. Nanette, we're ready for you.”

Hayley shrank back as Nanette marched up to her and started giving her a pat-down, a technique she seemed to be using to assess Hayley's physical build.

Hayley politely batted Nanette's hands away and asked, “Is all this some sort of massive overcompensation for the raise mixup? I want you to know I don't blame you for that whatsoever.”

“Absolutely not. No point in looking back,” Audra said, waving her index finger in the air. “We must go forward!”

Right.
Hayley had to wonder just how many sessions with Bruno Audra paid for each week.

Immune to Hayley's skeptical expression, Audra stood up and came around her desk to the opposite side of the garment rack to meet with Nanette.

Hayley couldn't quite make out what the two women were saying, but after quite a bit of rustling, Nanette reappeared with an outfit protected by white plastic.

She dramatically whipped the plastic cover off and held out a black suit for Hayley's inspection. “This says ‘power.' ” She put her hand on her hip and waited for Hayley to gush.

It was a great suit, Hayley had to admit. Nanette obviously knew her stuff. Terrific styling and the perfect color. Hayley lifted
the sleeve and peered at the tag.
Hello.
“This says Michael Kors—seven hundred and ten dollars.” She dropped the sleeve and sadly shook her head.

Audra hurried forward and put the sleeve back in Hayley's hand. “Consider it an early birthday present.”

“No way. I gave you a wool scarf for your birthday. There's a huge difference there.”

“But it was Ralph Lauren.”

“Yeah, but I got it at Ross.”

“Oh!” Audra looked momentarily disconcerted. “Well, just humor me, okay? Just try a couple of things on. Then we'll see.”

Hayley supposed she could at least let Audra do her thing, if she was so determined. “Look, I'll try them on if you want me to, but I'm telling you, I'm not buying. I just can't spend that kind of money, and I won't let you spend that kind of money on me, either.”

“Up, please.” Nanette stood in the center of the office next to the coffee table with a tape measure hanging from her neck and a pincushion Velcroed around her wrist.

Hayley shook her head, but she removed her loafers and stepped up onto the table anyway. Nanette pushed her arms up to full span and began to take measurements.

Suddenly Audra looked up from her desk toward the door. “Oh, I need to take care of this.”

Hayley followed her glance and saw two giant blond specimens of manhood waiting patiently behind the glass. “Nanette, turn around, turn around . . . check these guys out.” They looked like the Abercrombie & Fitch representatives except they had all their clothes on.

Nanette looked over her shoulder and then turned back with her eyebrows raised. “Ooh-la-la,” she murmured.

Hayley started to blush, partially because they were so
good-looking and partially because she was standing in bare feet on a coffee table in an upright spread-eagle position.

But as stupid as that felt, she felt even more stupid when Audra waved the men into the office and they walked around the coffee table without even looking at her. To her even greater dismay, Nanette took the opportunity to start in on the inseam measurements.

One of the men handed Audra a manila folder while the other said something about a net loss of profits. It sounded banal enough to Hayley, but for Audra it was like being struck by lightning. She stood up slowly and just laid into these guys.

Hayley had no idea what Audra was talking about with all that financial mumbo jumbo, but without ever raising her voice, her friend expressed her displeasure so eloquently and so forcefully, even Hayley felt compelled to apologize for whatever it was the men had done.

Iron fist, velvet glove, indeed.

Sure, she could be a high-maintenance pain in the ass at times, but to see Audra like this, a fabulous corporate dominatrix with more charisma and presence in her baby finger than in both those two blond gods combined. . . well, it was an incredible display of. . .of. . .

Hayley couldn't think of the word. It was just that Audra knew what she wanted and she knew how to make it happen. Audra was a woman with a plan and the wherewithal to carry it out.

Maybe Bruno wasn't so full of crap after all. Or maybe Hayley just needed one of those suits. Well, the suit was out of the question, but . . .

Hayley bent down and whispered to Nanette, “Look, I don't want to waste your time, since I'm not going to be buying clothes from you today, but if you can dig up a pair of shoes like Audra's I'd be interested. Seven and a half.”

Nanette nodded and went over to the garment rack and started rummaging through the shoeboxes. By the time she fitted Hayley into a pair of black stilettos, Audra had dismissed the blonds.

They got out of the office pretty fast, and Audra tossed the file into one of her leather in-boxes. “Men,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Men can be such . . . slow creatures. Or maybe everyone just got a little stupid today because their minds are on the bonus meeting.” She rubbed her hands together a little nervously. “Today we're going to find out if we're on target for the big money at year-end.”

Hayley sat down on the edge of the coffee table and admired her new shoes. “If I hadn't already known you before you became so impressive, I'd probably never know you.”

“Don't be silly. Are you and Nanette done?” She looked suspicious, so Hayley quickly said, “Yeah, we agreed on a pair of shoes. That was incredible, by the way. You were great. The whole performance.”

Audra just looked at Hayley woefully. “No suit, huh? Well, the shirt you're wearing is kind of cute. I'm sure it won't work against you.”

Hayley grinned. “Gee, thanks. I'm just praying I'll make it to the job fair before I start getting sweat circles.”

“You know, Hay, I have at least a dozen contacts who would love to hire you. Why don't you let me make some phone calls? It would be much more efficient than this job-fair thing.” Audra shivered with obvious disgust. “Job fairs are for people without a good network. You have a good network. You have me.”

But Hayley had been relying on her friends to help her solve her problems since the moment they'd all figured out exactly what those problems were. Of course, they'd all said they
wanted
to help.
In fact, they were falling over themselves and each other for a chance to help her.

But the point was that she needed to go to the job fair for the very purpose of doing something on her own.

Audra wasn't ready to give up. She sat on the coffee table next to Hayley. “Look, let me just describe this one opportunity. All the other on-line women's mags are either dead or dying, but this one still has solid financial backing. And you have the perfect qualifications. It's called Mouth-to-Mouth Recitation. Charming name, isn't it? And not only that, but—”

“Charming,” Hayley said. “I agree. The name is absolutely charming. Charming and oddly familiar.”

“Well, there's not a whole lot of creativity left in the Silicon Valley scene,” Audra admitted.

“And you are a true friend for offering but . . . thanks, but no, thanks. Maybe Bruno didn't have an effect on me, but I guess I did realize one thing while I was up there: If I'm serious about making changes, I can't be so resistant to the process of figuring out what those changes need to be.”

“Well, that's something,” Audra said, doubtfully.

“So I need to go the tech fair and explore my options and meet some people, really think about what kind of job I want.” It felt good to say that. It made things seem possible. Doable.

Hayley smiled and added, “And then I'm going to set up some interviews and make a good long-term decision based on my future career goals. It's important that I learn to do this.”

Audra looked at Hayley in silence for a moment, then said, “Well, that's fine. But before you go, I want you to go outside and come in and introduce yourself as if you were at an interview. The least we can do is make sure you've got the basics down.”

Hayley looked at her watch. “You know, maybe I should get going. I don't want to miss out on all the good jobs. Ha-ha.”

“Don't worry, the bonus meeting is in fifteen minutes, and I certainly don't want to be late for that. Seriously, this job crisis of yours could be over so easily. If you'd just let me call Mouth-to-Mouth, I could have you a job in the next five minutes.”

“No!” Hayley yelped in horror. “That's how I got my last job. I'm going to do this on my own. And I want to get the job because I want the job and they want me.”

Audra huffed, but said, “Fine. I get it. Now go outside and then come back in and introduce yourself.”

Hayley rolled her eyes, then walked out into the hall, turned around, and walked back inside. “Uh, hi. I'm Hayley Jane Smith.” She stuck out her arm at Audra.

Audra stared at her. “An arm is not a foreign object without relationship to the rest of the body. You do have control over it, you know. Seriously. Do it like you were really in an interview situation.”

What the hell was she talking about? “I just did.”

“You're kidding. That was it?”

“Yeah. That was it.”

Audra shook her head and motioned for Hayley to sit down again. “You've got to understand that image is everything. You've got to ooze perfection.”

“Ooze. You want me to ooze.”

“You're purposely misunderstanding me to be difficult. I'm trying to help. You can be so frustrating.” Audra swung her hair back from her face, then composed herself by taking a deep breath. “I mean that from the moment you walk in the door, it must be clear to the interviewer that you are perfect for the position; there is no other person who should have that job.”