The Hazards of Hunting While Heartbroken Read Free Page B

Brothers, a very prestigious advertising agency.
    As soon as Marvin delivers his report, Jessica skulks over and says, “You know, all advertising execs are jerks.”
    “Don’t you think that’s slightly unfair?” I ask, as I quietly admit to myself that I’m more than a little excited to know more about my mystery man.
    Jessica ignores my admonition and adds the zinger. “And so many of them are gay!”
    “Now that’s mean,” Marvin says. “Obviously, if Mister X here were gay, he’d be sending flowers to me, not to Zoë.”
    That makes sense. But what if Jessica’s right? What if I’ve wasted most of my work day staking out a gay man who doesn’t know he’s gay? One who makes overtures towards anonymous women because he knows the odds of an actual connection are remote? Or worse, one who knows his sexual preference but won’t admit it? I’ve been down that road once and have no desire to travel it again. And did I mention I work on commission? If I don’t close deals, Carol doesn’t pay me.
    Thankfully, Sibyl’s perky cheerleader voice pages Jessica to reception. As she strides away, Marvin wheels his chair close to mine and rests his hand on my knee. He leans in to whispering range, and his tie, a green number flecked with pink flamingoes, falls towards my lap. “Don’t listen to her. She’s jealous of you.”
    “That’s ridiculous,” I sniff. “Who in their right mind would be jealous of me?”
    “I never said she was in her right mind,” Marvin laughs as he pushes himself back in the general direction of his desk, which is roughly behind mine in the bullpen. “I have to get back to the grind. Bills to pay and all that. But call me if hot stuff makes an appearance.”
    By five in the afternoon, I’ve abandoned all pretenses of working and I’m staring out the window, willing him to appear. By 6:45, I reluctantly tear myself away because if I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for Angela and Kevin. As I re-touch my lipstick for the hundred-fifty-seventh time today and shut down my computer, there is still no movement in the windows across the way.
    I take the elevator down to the lobby only to realize I’ve forgotten my coat. Running back up will make me late, but there’s an autumn chill in the air, which is strange and unseasonable for the week after Labor Day. It makes me think it won’t be long before I’m going to work and heading home in the dark.
    I retrace my steps and head back up. The lights in our reception area have been dimmed for the night, but a few of my colleagues are still hard at work. Thankfully, I bet Jessica’s gone. She’s never around much after five. I’m fumbling for my key card when the doors fly open in my face and Marvin almost mows me down.
    “He’s there and he’s gorgeous!” he announces breathlessly. “So I raced out here to see if I could catch you.”
    We practically smash into each other as we try to crush through the doors at the same time. “Wait!” I yell, then stop myself and lower my voice. “I can’t go running over there. Try to look casual.” I smooth my hair and my skirt and walk to my desk, using every iota of self control to force my gaze away from the windows. I scoop my coat off the back of my chair and whirl around, nonchalantly, I hope, to put it on. As I do so, I steal a glance across the way. He’s in the window, standing up and talking on the phone. He’s got his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened.
    Marvin didn’t lie. He’s the most stunning man I’ve ever seen. He’s got those chiseled cheekbones I thought only existed in Renaissance art and on models in Armani fragrance advertisements. His dark hair is slicked back in New York fashion, but not too severely. It’s hard to tell how old he is from here, but I’d guess about forty. I wonder whether that’s too old.
    He sees me and smiles. It lights up his whole face. I smile back. He waves. I keep smiling, like an idiot, and then, having no experience with such