Point, Click, Love (22 page)

Then Annie waited. Always keeping the car in the corner of her eye, she read the paper, played around on her phone, answered emails, ate the sandwich she’d brought with her, and drank a Diet Coke. At one point she had to pee, so she got out of the car and sprinted to a nearby Porta Potti that had been set up for a construction crew working on the road. When she felt herself drifting off to sleep, she turned on the radio. When the sound of pop music started to grate on her, she switched to NPR and listened to three afternoon news/talk programs. Then, an hour into
All Things Considered
, as she was listening to an in-depth report about mad cow disease, Marcus finally appeared.

Annie followed him to a nearby commercial district and watched him go into a coffee shop. She knew that this was her big chance. She knew she wouldn’t be able to take off another day and spend it sitting in her car—watching and waiting. She had him cornered in a public place, a café where it was common for strangers to converse. She needed to go in and make a move.

After waiting in her car for ten minutes to make sure he wasn’t just getting a take-out coffee, Annie walked in the door and headed straight for the counter. She got in line and noticed Marcus sitting at a communal table with his laptop open. There were two tables of people, all on laptops, and it seemed like they were there because the tables were close to a wall of outlets. Marcus
looked so comfortable, even leaning over to one of the other computer users to ask a question, leading Annie to conjecture that he came there often to work. She realized that she needed to come back, with her laptop, and somehow find a place next to Marcus.

Rather than leaving, driving half an hour in rush-hour traffic to go home and get her computer, and then returning to find Marcus gone, Annie decided to come back the next evening, hoping his time spent at the coffee shop was a daily ritual.

The next day, Annie left work at four and headed straight to the café. When she arrived, there was plenty of room at the computer table, so she grabbed a seat and placed her sweater on a chair next to her, hoping she could arrange for Marcus to sit there. But although Annie spent two hours waiting, Marcus never showed up.

Annie hoped that it was perhaps an every-other-day ritual, so she returned the next evening, once again saving an extra place. This time, at five-ten, Marcus walked through the door. While he stood at the counter ordering, she slipped her sweater off the chair next to her and deftly tossed it across the table onto an empty chair that would not have afforded her easy access to her prey. Two people at the other table looked at her quizzically, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about what anybody thought of her at that point—she cared only about Marcus.

The only two places available at Annie’s table were on either side of her, but there was also an open spot at the next table. When Marcus got his coffee and walked toward the tables, Annie focused on her computer, holding her breath, praying that he would choose the right spot.

He did.

Not only did he sit right next to her, but he actually spoke. “Can I reach over and use that outlet?” he asked.

Annie lifted her head and took the opportunity to look straight into his eyes. For a brief moment, she didn’t answer, mesmerized
by his warm, inviting face. His eyes were a beautiful green, his longish, wavy hair brown with subtle streaks of blond. His lips were pink and full, his olive complexion perfectly smooth. He was one of the most beautiful men Annie had ever seen in person—or even not in person, for that matter—and she was afraid she would break out in an inexplicable grin at any second. But instead she forced herself to answer: “Sure.”

She was nervous but relieved—relieved that he’d already broken the invisible boundary between them. Now if she was to say something it would be okay and not come off like she was hitting on him.

For the next fifteen minutes, Annie sat composing the perfect opening line. First she wrote down the requirements this sentence would have to fulfill. It would have to be casual. It would have to make sense within the context of the café, the neighborhood, the time of evening. It would have to be nonthreatening and not make her seem needy or on the make. Most of all, it would have to play to Marcus’s interests, something Annie knew a lot about.

“I’m sorry,” she said, eyes still on her computer, as if she was addressing anyone in the coffee shop who cared to listen. “Is there a Thai place somewhere around here? I can’t seem to find it on this restaurant map.”

Marcus immediately leaned toward her screen. “There.” He pointed at an intersection. “It should be right there.”

“Thanks,” said Annie, looking up at him for a second and then back down. For some reason, every time she looked into those big green eyes she had to turn away, as if she were staring right into the sun. But then she steeled herself, glanced up again, and said, “Is it any good?”

“Yeah, it’s the best in town.”

“Great. I’ve got a friend coming in from New York and I can’t take him to a bad Thai restaurant. I’ve got to prove I don’t really
live in the boonies.” Annie was happy with this line. The New York mention made her sound cosmopolitan, and the reference to a male friend made her sound unavailable.

“Well, I don’t know if it can compete with New York restaurants, but it’s good for Kansas City.”

Any other time, Annie would have let the conversation stop at that, fearing that she’d be overstaying her welcome. But this time, that was not an option. She had to push forward. This could be her last chance.

“Believe me, there are plenty of bad New York restaurants,” she said knowingly.

“Hmmm. I don’t know about that. Every restaurant I’ve ever been to in New York has been pretty amazing.”

“So, you know New York?”

“Yes, I do!” Marcus said playfully.

“I’m sorry,” said Annie, fearing she sounded too surprised.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I should disclose that I’m a New Yorker.”

Marcus’s face lit up, and Annie could tell she had struck gold.

“Which part?” asked Marcus.

“I grew up on the Upper West Side.”

“That’s awesome,” he said. “I spent a summer living on Amsterdam, right by Barney Greengrass.”

“The Sturgeon King!” shouted Annie.

“I loved the sable,” said Marcus.

“Oh, my God! The sable! Was that not incredible?”

“I’d go there every Sunday for brunch.”

“Me too! With my family. But that was … years ago.” For a moment, the thrill of finding someone at a random coffee shop in Kansas City who shared her love for an obscure Jewish delicacy that originated on the Lower East Side made Annie forget about her single-minded mission and just enjoy the happy coincidence.

“Actually, I kind of used the place as a litmus test for girlfriends,” said Marcus. “If I brought her there and she didn’t eat the smoked fish—ordered only the potato latkes or something—that would be it.”

“Ouch. You’re tough.”

“Got to separate the wheat from the chaff.”

“Or the fish from the latkes, as it were.”

“As it always has been,” said Marcus.

“You probably shouldn’t try that with Kansas City girls,” said Annie. “Else you’ll be a lonely man.”

“I know. I’ve got a whole other criteria now that I’m back here.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?”

“Well, let’s say if they’d rather go to the Olive Garden than to Bryant’s barbecue, we’ve got a problem.”

Annie smiled. “Funny you should say that. I was just at the Olive Garden.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Long story.”

“I got time,” said Marcus, holding up his watch.

“Do you?” asked Annie. “You seem like a guy who’s got places to go.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Like?”

“I’m working on my MBA over at UMKC.”

“Nice.”

“And you?”

Annie hesitated. She hadn’t really planned out what she would say about herself, whether she would make up an elaborate lie to better her chances at getting what she wanted or simply tell the truth. She decided she would have to go with the truth. “I work for Sprint.”

“Huh. I never would have guessed. You don’t come off like the corporate type.”

“I guess that’s a good thing. But, hey, you’ll probably be begging me for a job someday.”

“Maybe, but I’m more the entrepreneurial type,” said Marcus.

“Okay, so I’ll be begging you for a job.”

“I think I’d have to give you one,” he said with a smile. “You live in the neighborhood?”

“No, I live out by the office. But I try to get down here as much as I can.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before,” said Marcus.

“I just discovered this place.” That was close, thought Annie to herself. Keep on your toes—don’t get too comfortable.

“My name is Marcus, by the way,” he said, and he held out his hand.

“I’m Annie,” she said, giving his hand a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” said Marcus, more to himself than to Annie. “Very nice.”

Chapter Fifteen

W
henever Katie came over to Annie’s house and walked through the cavernous entryway, saw the gigantic living room, and sat in her gourmet kitchen, she felt a little funny. How odd it was that this single, childless woman would have such a huge house, that a woman who’d never picked up a golf club in her life lived on a golf course, and that her uncultivated backyard was big enough for a jungle gym, a trampoline, and a swimming pool. She often imagined herself living there with Frank and Maggie, how they would have a playroom down in the basement, their own bathrooms, and even a special computer room. Katie had always been happy with her small house, had never wanted any more, but somehow seeing her friend with all this space made her feel jealous.

Of course, there was the added problem that Katie had just lost her job and was worried that she might not be able to pay her mortgage next month. She told herself to stop blaming her well-to-do friends for her own misfortune.

“So how’s it going?” asked Annie, as she took a pile of fluffy towels out of the industrial-sized dryer located right off the kitchen. Katie admired its shiny navy-blue surface and thought how nice it would be if she didn’t have to trudge down her basement stairs every time she did a load.

“Okay,” answered Katie. She wasn’t quite ready to tell anyone about being laid off. “Where’s Claudia?”

“She called and said she wasn’t coming,” said Annie. “Said she wasn’t feeling well. I could tell she was bullshitting, so I told her to get her ass over here.”

“Is she?”

“I guess so. She’s been acting really weird lately. She hasn’t shown up for work for days. I’m afraid my boss might tell me to find a new PR firm.”

“Maybe you should tell her,” said Katie.

“I have. Doesn’t seem to get through. Something’s wrong.” Annie took a bottle of white wine and a platter of fruit and cheese out of the refrigerator and brought it over to Katie, who was sitting on a couch in front of the kitchen’s big stone fireplace. “Have you heard anything from Maxine?”

“Not a peep. I called her once but never heard back. I guess she’s busy.” Katie was actually hurt by Maxine’s silence. The two had never gone this long without talking, and Katie was surprised that Maxine didn’t want to share her experiences in L.A. with her.

Katie looked down at the coffee table, where last Sunday’s
New York Times
was spread out. She noticed an article about online dating on the cover of the magazine. “Have you read that yet?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s incredible!” said Annie. “It’s all about women finding sugar daddies online. You should totally take it and read it.”

“Okay,” said Katie, picking it up and sticking it in her purse.

“I mean, if you’re going to the trouble of dating some knucklehead, he might as well be rich, right?”

Katie and Annie both turned toward the front door when they heard Claudia walk in.

“Hey, Claudia!” said Annie.

“Hey,” Claudia said weakly. She shuffled over to the couch and plopped herself down next to Katie. Her face was pale, her eyes were puffy, and she was wearing an old gray sweat outfit that looked to be from her college days.

“Claudia, what’s up?” asked Katie.

“Nothing,” said Claudia.

“It’s not nothing,” said Annie. “Something’s up. Why haven’t you been at work? Have you been sick?”

“No, I’m not sick,” said Claudia.

“Well, then, what is it? We want to help you.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” said Claudia.

Katie and Annie sat and looked at her with concern, waiting for her to talk. Finally, Claudia burst into tears.

“I don’t know, you guys,” she sobbed, as both Annie and Katie held her shaking shoulders.

“What is it?” Annie asked.

Claudia let out a few more sobs, blew her nose in a napkin, and tried her best to compose herself. “Okay. So. I had an affair.”

Annie and Katie looked at each other, eyes wide in amazement.

“It was with a guy at work. I know it’s wrong. I don’t want to talk about that. I was … I … I think I was really in love with him. I know that sounds stupid, and you’re probably thinking I’m crazy and of course I wasn’t in love, I only wanted to do it to get away
from Steve, but, honestly, I think I was in love and, you know, I don’t care if anyone believes me or not because it just doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Of course it matters,” said Katie. “If you’re in love you need to be together.”

“No, because he doesn’t want to be with me. He said I’m a cheater and he doesn’t want to be with a cheater.”

Annie gave Katie a confused look. “Well … um, so is he.”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t married, and he didn’t know what he was getting into, and blah, blah, blah. Bottom line, he doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”

“Okay,” said Katie. “So now what? What about Steve?”

“I haven’t told Steve, but what I did do was accidentally post the fact that I had an affair on Facebook—”

“Huh?” said Annie.

“I was writing someone and didn’t realize I was posting to the general public and it just so happened that Marjorie Gooding saw it and told me I should take it down and she’s really good friends with Steve or maybe even his lover for all I know—”