Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(61)

“How was it?” Robin asked once Libby was through.

She smiled weakly and joked, “I should have had four tequilas.”

Robin didn’t seem to take nearly as long as Libby. She hadn’t shown Libby her design, and when she came out Libby was shocked to discover that Robin had had the tattoo placed on the inside of her wrist. In plain view. It wasn’t a picture but a Chinese character.

“What does it mean?” Libby asked her friend, staring down at the rather elaborate symbol.

“It’s … private.”

“Private,” she repeated.

“I didn’t ask you about yours.”

“Okay,” Libby said. She’d respect Robin’s privacy.

They walked back to the condo, and almost against their wills they discussed how impossible it was to understand men. The males of the species were the fickle ones. Women simply had a bad rap.

Once inside the condo they sagged onto the sofa. Libby had cried on Robin’s shoulder about Phillip and she knew her friend was deeply discouraged by her own relationship even though Robin hadn’t filled her in on the details.

“You know what?” Libby said, slouching forward on the sofa because her back continued to pain her. Thankfully she hadn’t been able to see the needle.

“What?”

“It seems to me that if I’m a good enough friend for you to get a tattoo with, then you should be willing to share your tale of male woe.”

Robin hesitated and then shrugged. “You’re right.”

Libby sat up straighter. “Sing it, sister,” she said, slurring her words ever so slightly. She hadn’t eaten much, and the liquor on an empty stomach had gone straight to her head.

“You probably know how I feel about Roy Bollinger,” Robin whispered, almost as if she were afraid to say his name aloud.

“Judge Bollinger?”

“Go ahead and say it,” Robin muttered.

“Say what?”

“That I’m wasting my time and that he’s out of my league and that I’m acting like I’m still the high school nerd pining after the star quarterback.”

“How well do you know him?” Libby asked.

“Not at all, really. We worked together on a political campaign years ago and have been on a couple of committees together through the years. His courtroom is down the hall from mine. He always makes a point of greeting me, and not long ago we met up at a fund-raiser and … we had drinks one night. I told him what happened with you at the interview and … I haven’t talked to him since. Well, other than in passing.”

If Libby felt miserable before, hearing this made her feel even worse. Could it be that the disastrous interview had also blown Robin’s budding romance with Roy? It hardly seemed possible that a man would lose interest in a woman over something that trivial.

“Oh, Robin, I feel terrible.”

Again Robin shrugged as if it wasn’t any big deal. “I don’t think that was it … apparently he just isn’t interested enough in me to call me.”

“You say you chatted with him at the fund-raiser?”

“We were in line for the bar when we talked. It wasn’t like he sought me out or anything.”

“What about when you went to have drinks with him?”

“That was it. We both ordered a glass of wine and chatted briefly and that was all there was to it. He hasn’t called me since. I think I scared him off.”

Libby sincerely doubted that. “What did you do?”

Robin looked as if she was about to cry. “That’s just it. I didn’t do anything. I was almost afraid to talk for fear of putting my foot in my mouth. The thing is … I like him so much and I … I’m uptight around him and probably send all the wrong messages.”

Libby chewed on her bottom lip. “Okay, let’s reason this out.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Robin asked, her voice high-pitched and panicky.

“What do you have in common, other than the fact that you’re both attorneys and you both work in the same building?”

Robin rubbed her palms together. “Well, we both like the same wine—pinot noir.”

Libby tapped her finger against her lips.

“What are you thinking?” Robin asked.

“Did you thank him?”

“Thank him?”

“For finding a job lead for me?”

“Well, sort of …”

“Wouldn’t a bottle of really wonderful pinot noir be appropriate? I mean, he did you a huge favor. The least you could do is show your appreciation.”

“Yes, but …”

“In fact, why don’t I buy the wine? My treat for everything you’ve done for me.”

Robin’s eyes rounded and then went back to normal. “You really think I should give him a bottle of wine?”

“Why not?”

Robin cocked her head from side to side as she mulled over the suggestion. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Phone him,” Libby insisted. She stood and retrieved the portable phone she kept in the kitchen.

“Now? It’s after nine!”

Libby thrust the receiver at her friend. “Trust me, he’s still up. Do you have access to his home number?”