"What's going on?" were the first words she heard when she entered the building. Two men were walking down the hall ahead of her. "What's with the TV crews? Have we been bought out or closed down, or something?"
"Didn't you watch the news this morning?"
"Didn't have time."
"Seems some of the women who work here have come up with their own definition of Mr. Perfect. All of the television stations are running it as a human-interest feature, I guess."
"So what's their definition of Mr. Perfect? Someone who always puts the lid down on the John?"
Whoops, Jaine thought. They had forgotten that one. "No, from what I heard it was the usual Boy Scout junk: faithful and honest and helps old ladies across the street, shit like that."
"Hey, I can do that," the first man said in a tone of discovery.
"Then why don't you?"
"I didn't say I wanted to."
They laughed together. Jaine entertained herself with a wonderful fantasy of punting both of them through the door ahead, but was content with asking, "Are you saying you're unfaithful? What a winner!"
They both looked around as if startled to see her there, but they had to have heard the door opening and someone walking behind them, so she didn't fall for the innocent act. She knew their faces but not their names; they were junior management types, late twenties or early thirties, spiffed up in their French blue dress shirts and conservative ties. "Sorry," the first man said in insincere apology. "We didn't see you."
"Right," she said, rolling her eyes. Then she caught herself; she didn't need to get involved in these conversations. Let this particular battle of the sexes be waged without her; the less attention she and the other three drew, the better for them.
In silence she and the two men strode to the elevators. There was no sign posted there today, making her feel deprived. Marci, looking tense, was waiting for her in the office. "I guess you saw the news," she said to Jaine. Jaine nodded. "I called T.J. and gave her a heads-up."
"I can't tell you how sorry I am this has happened," Marci said, lowering her voice as someone walked by the open door.
"I know," Jaine said, sighing. There wasn't any point in staying pissed at Marci; what was done was done. And this wasn't the end of the world, not even for T.J. If Galan found out about it and went so ballistic that he and T.J. ended up divorced, then the marriage wasn't very strong anyway.
"Dawna gave them my name," Marci continued. "The phone drove me nuts all morning. All the stations want interviews, and so does the News." She paused. "Did you see the article this morning?"
Jaine had totally forgotten about the morning paper; the peep show next door had been too distracting. She shook her head. "I haven't read the paper yet."
"It was actually pretty cute. It was in the section where they always put recipes and things like that, so maybe not many people read it."
That was good to hear; it was being treated as human interest rather than news, and a lot of people never read what was still thought of as the "women's section." Unless an animal was involved, or a baby, human-interest stories tended to fade fast. This one had already lived past its natural life span.
"Are you going to talk to them? The news people, I mean." Marci shook her head. "No way. If it was just me, yeah, I'd have a little fun – so what if Brick gets his drawers in a wad? But with you guys involved, it's different."
"T.J.'s the one with the big worry. I thought about it yesterday, and I don't have anything to lose if my name gets out there, so don't fret about me. Luna didn't seem worried, either. But T.J. – " Jaine shook her head. "That's a problem."
"Big time. Personally, I don't think it would be much of a loss if she and Galan split, but I'm not her, and she probably thinks the same about Brick." Marci grinned. "Shit, most of the time I think the same about him." No argument there, Jaine thought.
Gina Landretti, who also worked in payroll, entered the office. Judging from the way her eyes lit when she saw Marci and Jaine talking, the penny had dropped. "Hey," she said, a big grin spreading across her face. "It's you! I mean, you're the four friends. I should have realized when I read Marci's name, but it just now clicked. The other two are that pretty girl in sales and the one in human resources, right? I've seen you go to lunch together." There was no point in denying it. She and Marci looked at each other, and Jaine shrugged.
"This is so cool!" Gina enthused. "I showed the newsletter to my husband yesterday, and he got really pissed when he got to number eight on the list, like he isn't always turning around to look at women with big boobs, you know? I had to laugh. He still isn't speaking to me." She didn't look very worried.
"We were just having fun," Jaine said. "This has gotten out of hand."
"Oh, I don't think so. I think it's great. I told my sister in New York about it, and she wanted a copy of the whole article, not just the little bit that was in this morning's paper."
"Your sister?" Jaine's stomach got that sinking feeling again. "Your sister who works for one of the networks?"
"ABC. She's a staffer on Good Morning America." Marci began to look alarmed, too. "Uh – she just had a personal interest, right?"
"She thought it was hilarious. I wouldn't be surprised if you got a call from them, though. She mentioned what a great feature the List would make." Gina sailed to her desk, happy with her part in providing them with publicity. Jaine dug a dollar out of her purse and gave it to Marci, then said four very pithy words.