Hillary Kanter - Dead Men Are Easy To Love
Page 19
That was it. I was outta of there.
Throwing on my coat, I tried to slip out.
“Hey, Ariel. Where are you going?” Chomp, chomp. “And who do you think that man is over there? Do you know him or something?”
“Goodbye,” I called over my shoulder. “Nice meeting you, but I’ve gotta run. I’m meeting my fiancé, and I’m late.”
I ventured out into the black of night. The snowfall had ended, and a full moon stared down at me. I stared back and chuckled, recalling the old joke: “If we put one man on the moon, why can’t we put them all there?”
Making my way home down Second Avenue, my thoughts swinging between relief and amazement, I slipped on a patch of ice. My feet flew out from under me, and I landed hard on the sidewalk. I was dizzy. My vision went dark for a second.
Uh-oh. Oh, no, please no!
Cautiously, I opened one eye.
Sweet relief. I was still in the present.
My writing notebook had fallen out of my hands, and I was still sprawled on the pavement, when a voice addressed me from the darkness.
“Are you all right, Ariel?”
I turned and saw it was that lawyer Rob, who lived in the apartment above mine. What a coincidence, in a city as large as Manhattan. “Uh, yeah. I’m all right. Besides the fact that I feel like an idiot.”
“Yeah, the snow’s come kinda early this year. But I did the same thing myself last winter. I almost broke my neck. Here, let me give you a hand there,” he said, and with strong arms lifted me from the sidewalk. “Oh, and here’s your notebook.”
“Thank you very much.”
After our one and only date we had passed each other in the stairwell of our apartment building often enough, and even ran into each other at the museum, but I had not seen him in months. He had been a little on the chubby side, but now looked like he had lost some weight. With his angular face and wide smile, he looked handsome in a way I had never noticed before.
On this chilly New York evening, we walked together in the same direction.
“Writing anything interesting these days?” he said.
“I’m writing. But I’m not sure it’s anything interesting.”
“I’ve read some of your articles in Men’s Health. All of them, actually. They’re great,” he said. “You’re a really good writer.”
“Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome very much.”
“How about you, Rob? How’s the lawyer business these days? Didn’t you say you were … let me think … a tax attorney, right? In that law firm, um…what was the name of it?”
“Duncan and Sweeny,” he said. “Well, I was. Now I’m the main attorney in Simon and Schuster’s legal department. You know, the publisher?”
“Sure, I know. I submitted my novel to them a few months ago, but haven’t heard anything back yet.”
“If you’d like, I’d be happy to, you know, check on the status. Things can get really backed up, with all the manuscripts coming in. I could ask about it.”
“I’d appreciate that. It’s really nice of you.”
Rob smiled. “Say, would you want to maybe meet me for coffee next week?”
“Sure.” My definitive answer surprised me. Definitely not the norm. “Let me give you my email.” I tore a piece of paper from my notebook and scribbled down the address.
“Great, then. It was nice bumping into you, Ariel. I’m heading to the gym right now, but I’ll be in touch. I look forward to seeing you soon.”
“Thanks for picking me up,” I said, laughing.
Overhead, a thousand stars lit the night. The skies had cleared, but the wind still nipped at my ankles. As I strolled toward my apartment, I moved with lightness in my step, a smile on my face, and my head filled with hopefulness. There would be no more dead men in my future. I would be free of them forever.
I slowed at the traffic light and after I crossed Second Avenue, I stopped dead in my tracks, pausing in front of a large, flashing, neon sign.
PSYCHIC
ALL YOUR QUESTIONS ANSWERED
LIFE, MONEY, ROMANCE
I buttoned up the top button of my jacket, and kept on walking.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hi there, readers:
I have always gone by the doctrine that “if you gotta tell ’em who you are, you ain’t.” And, if you’re “only as good as your last three minutes,” well … But here goes anyway.
All you really need to know about me is that a decent while back, I was an award-winning hit songwriter, singer and musician, and I had a lot of songs recorded by a lot of famous people. But I won’t go into all of that. And as a singer with RCA records, I recorded two critically acclaimed albums—read that as, although they were very good, I did not sell a lot—AND I sang back-up on tour with a famous Latin American named Julio Iglesias … whom you may now only know as the father of pop star Enrique Iglesias.
I live in Nashville, Tennessee with a great guy, and five adorable cats named Bosco, Barley, Max, Purr-cy, and … ? We haven’t named him yet. Yes, they are all MALES. My hobbies are snowskiing, and I’m an avid movie buff and reader of biographies.
By the way, this is my second career and second book, which I guess you could say is an offshoot of sorts from my first book, Dating Sucks! A Single Woman’s Confessions, Obsessions and Lessons.
For a good laugh, you can check that out—and I hope you will. You can find out more stuff about me and that book at:
www.DatingSucks.net
Table of Contents
Chapter One:
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five:
Chapter Six:
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Table of Contents
Chapter One:
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five:
Chapter Six:
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten