“You sure you’re up for this?” Nessa asked. “We can find another diver.”
“And tell them what?” Jo responded.
“I don’t know. We’d come up with something.”
“No,” Jo said. “I finally know why I was chosen for all this. I know what I’m supposed to do.”
“What’s that?” Nessa asked.
“Whatever the fuck it takes.”
Jo Sets a Bridge Ablaze
Three months after she was fired, Jo found herself standing in her bra in a bank bathroom, one pit of her blouse stretched over the nozzle of the hand drier. The wave of heat that had overwhelmed her in the waiting area had finally receded, leaving salty, lavender-scented tidal pools beneath her arms.
The beautifully bound copy of her business plan was perched precariously on the edge of the sink. Her phone lit up with the silent alarm she’d set. Only one pit was partially dry, but it was time to reclaim her seat in the waiting area. She slipped the blouse on, grimacing when the remaining wet patch clung to the skin beneath her left arm. Over the blouse went her best black jacket. She smoothed her wavy red hair, applied a layer of her lucky lipstick, and half-heartedly applauded herself for rolling with the punches.
She was about to take a seat on the waiting area couch when Jeremy Aversano emerged from one of the glass offices and made a beeline for her, one arm outstretched.
“How about that! I thought I recognized the name on my calendar! Lucy Levison’s mom, am I right?”
Jo struggled to keep the smile on her face. Her photo graced several of the documents she’d sent in advance of the meeting. If the loan officer had bothered to read them, he wouldn’t be surprised to see her. When Jo was doing her research, she’d immediately pegged Aversano as the father of one of Lucy’s least favorite classmates. But she’d been more interested in the bank’s lending history than the loan officer’s procreative feats.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m Lucy’s mom. Among other things.”
“Come on back! Must be something in the water these days,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as he led her toward his office. “We’ve had a lot of grade-school moms in here lately. Once the kids start growing up, the ladies of Mattauk transform into entrepreneurs. And my wife’s no exception. She’s dying to set up a kids’ cooking academy here in town.”
Jo’s heart sank a bit more. If he thought Jo was a stay-at-home mom, he definitely hadn’t bothered to read her CV. She wanted to ask him if this was going to be a waste of her time. But she didn’t. “I think a cooking academy is a wonderful idea,” she said instead. “I’m always looking for after-school and holiday activities for Lucy. And she would love something like that.”
“Well, I’ve told my wife to put together a business plan,” he said with an indulgent chuckle. “We’ll see what she manages to come up with.”
Jo’s smile froze in place. She’d met Aversano’s wife at PTA meetings, and the woman had always struck Jo as rather intelligent. Was there something about her that Jo hadn’t noticed—some mental infirmity that wasn’t immediately obvious?
“So!” Aversano said, taking a seat behind his desk. “I know you didn’t come here to chat about kiddie chefs. Let’s talk about this business you’d like to start. A ladies’ gym, is it?”
Thank God, Jo thought, as she pulled out a chair across from him. He had read something, after all. Jo relaxed a little, then opened the notebook she’d brought and twisted the silver Tiffany pen she’d been given in lieu of a bonus one year. There was a chance this could all work out. Her start-up costs would be high with all the equipment she’d need to purchase, but she had sized the market and lined up over two hundred prospective members. The gym’s projected revenues were high, even in the first year. Her business proposal was solid. Aversano was a moron, but that wouldn’t matter if she walked out with the money she needed. Stay cool, she pleaded with herself. Just this once, play along.