Strange Bedpersons. Jennifer Crusie

“Dad said we had to get women who know literature.”

      “Tess,” Nick said promptly, and Park groaned.

      “Not Tess. Anyone but Tess.”

      “She probably wouldn’t do it, anyway,” Nick said. “She pretty much stopped talking to me right after I refused to—” He caught himself and stopped. “What have you got against Tess, anyway?”

      “I just hate to see you limiting yourself to one woman. Never limit yourself. That’s why I want you to get the Welch account. New horizons.”

      “I haven’t exactly seen everything I wanted of Tess’s horizons,” Nick said.

      “Tess is no good for you,” Park said. “Women with brains are bad news. They distract you with their bodies and then they—”

      “Tess would be excellent for impressing an author,” Nick said. “She’s an English teacher. She’s involved in all those censorship protests.” He thought back to the last one he’d seen her at, holding a sign that said Pornography Is in the Mind of the Beholder. She’d been wearing a blue sweater, and his mind had leapt instantly to pornographic thoughts, which were the safest thoughts he could have around Tess. She was tactless and undignified and spontaneous and out of control, but there was something about her that kept pulling him back to her, and he hoped to hell it was her body, because if it was anything more, he was in big trouble.

      Park was still on the trail. “Protesting might not be good. Is it legal?”

      Nick slumped back in his chair. “Park, did you pay any attention in law school?”

      “Only to the good stuff. I knew I wasn’t going to be defending protesters.” Park frowned at him. “What do you see in this woman?”

      Nick started to tell him and then stopped. Park would never understand the attraction of Tess’s cheerfully passionate need to save the world, although he would probably understand the attraction of her cheerfully passionate enthusiasm for life, an enthusiasm that swept away everyone she was with until they almost did incredibly stupid things in Music Hall parking lots….

      Back to Park’s question. Stick to the basics. “She has great legs.”

      Park put his hand on Nick’s shoulder and gave him a fatherly pat. “That’s not enough to build a relationship on.”

      “Oh?” Nick said, surprised at this sudden evidence of depth in his friend. “And what is?”

      “Breasts,” Park said, and Nick had the feeling he was only partly joking. “Breasts are very important for women. Their clothes just don’t hang right without them.”

      Nick nodded. “Thanks, Dad, I’ll keep that in mind.”

      “Although she does have excellent legs,” Park went on. “Still, you’re better off without—”

      “What were you doing looking at Tess’s legs? I thought you didn’t like her.”

      “Trust me, as soon as she opened her mouth, I stopped looking. What did you do—gag her at night?”

      Nick briefly considered explaining that he’d never spent the night, and then discarded the idea. It would open a whole new conversational distraction for Park, and after his father’s pep talk, Park was distracted enough already.

      Park went back on attack. “You can pull this off for one weekend. Just don’t get Tess to do it. That mouth of hers makes me nervous. She has absolutely no tact, and she always tells the truth no matter who she’s talking to.” He shook his head in disgusted amazement. “Definitely not our kind of people.”

      Nick looked at his friend with resignation. “Why do I get the feeling that if I stick with you, one day I’ll wake up with my hair slicked back, wearing red suspenders and muttering, ‘Greed is good’?”

      “There’s nothing wrong with greed,” Park said. “In moderation, of course. Now, go get a date for this weekend. And remember Welch is an author. She has to have read something besides the society pages.”

      “Really? Then who the hell are you going to bring?” Nick asked.

      “Oh. Good point.” Park frowned. “Can you get me a date?”

      Two

      “Let me get this straight,” Tess said from her armchair when Nick had finished explaining and the only evidence left of the pot stickers was an empty carton and a tangy memory. “You want me to pretend to be your fiancée in order to deceive one of our greatest living American authors so that you can take another step in your drive toward ultimate yuppiehood.” She thought about it for a minute. “This could be good. I could wear an apron.”

      Nick looked confused. “No, you couldn’t. This is a very ritzy party. Why would you wear an apron?”

      Tess shrugged. “All right, no apron. But it’s your loss.”

      Nick shifted slightly. “Tess, concentrate here. I need to look like somebody who is approaching commitment. You need to act like somebody I’d commit to. Can you pull this off?” He squinted at her. “Of course you can’t. Why don’t I ever listen to Park?”

      “Because he’s an idiot,” Tess said. “Did he tell you I couldn’t do this? The rat. I know you bonded in college, but haven’t you noticed what a valueless twit he is?”

      “Valueless is a little harsh,” Nick said. “Immature, maybe.”

      “What did he do? Pull you from a burning building?” Tess shook her head. “Lassie wasn’t this faithful to Timmy.”

      “He does all right by me,” Nick said. “And he pulls his own weight with the firm. Park may have his limits, but believe it or not, he’s a genius with contracts. And yes, I owe him. The only reason I’m even with the firm is that Park hauled me in with him.”

      “I understand that,” Tess said patiently. “And I admire your loyalty. But since then you’ve pulled him out of a jam how many times? Don’t you think you’re about paid up here? Especially since he’s trashing your fiancée.” When Nick seemed puzzled, she added, “That would be me, remember?”

      “Right,” Nick said. “At least, I remember when I thought that was a good idea. Look, I haven’t pulled Park out of a jam that many times. And we’re doing all right together. Hell, we could be rich if we nail this Welch account.”

      “You’re already rich,” Tess said. “It’s time to move to a higher plane. Get a new interest. One with values.”

      “I have values.” Nick cast a disgusted look around the apartment. “Besides, if this is the kind of life you get for having values, I’ll pass. This place is a dump. And where the hell did you get those sweats, anyway? They’re older than you are.”

      “Hey,” Tess said, annoyed at having to defend her sweats yet one more time. “I paid for these with honest money at an honest thrift store.” She stuck her chin in the air. “Just because, unlike you and Park, I don’t buy overpriced running togs that I never run in because I might get sweaty—”

      “Wait a minute,” Nick said. “I run.”

      But Tess was already warming to the drama of the moment. “—which would be a waste of the ill-gotten gains I used to buy them—”

      “I object to the ill-gotten gains—”

      “Always a lawyer,” Tess said. “Objection overruled.”

      “Look, we don’t cheat widows and orphans or defend rapists or polluters or do any of those other things you tree huggers are always on about,” Nick fumed. “We’re lawyers, not criminals, for cripe’s sake. Cut me a break.”

      Tess came down from her high horse. “Sorry. I got a little carried away.” She looked at him, biting her lip. “This is like déjà vu. This is every