“You think Pablo makes out with random customers at the bookstore on a regular basis?” Evan raised an eyebrow.
“Probably not. But maybe the hipster guy is just the man of the moment. He’ll be old news by next week.”
Evan sighed. “Well, like I said, my current malaise is not really about Pablo. I just worry sometimes that life is passing me by when I’m not looking. Maybe I need to be more aggressive.”
Lauren’s heart sank. What was it about her current situation that made her feel this way? Her secret boyfriend, probably.
Maybe she should ask Caleb to go public. But that would, of course, be asking him to acknowledge they had a relationship, which he’d seemed reluctant to do. He may not have thought they had a relationship, but they did, however untraditional it was.
She let out a breath. “This seems like a conversation we should be having over drinks.”
“Hence the Irish coffee request.”
“Well, let me see if I can wrap up my time here for the day. We can drown our sorrows at Pop instead.”
“Am I having my quarter-life crisis late? Is there such a thing as a third-life crisis?”
“You must know you’re handsome, Evan. And you’re kind and smart and funny. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
“I appreciate that, but I have to meet other single men to make said man lucky.”
Lauren could tell from the expression on his face that Evan was about to get maudlin, so she told him to stay where he was while she checked in with her staff and made sure she was good to leave for the day. Monique assured her about eight times that she and Paige could take care of closing, so Lauren went back to her office and grabbed her things. On the way back toward the front door, she grabbed Evan.
“Come on, Mr. Sad Sack. Let’s go have fruity martinis.”
“Yes, please!”
***
There’d probably been some protocol broken when Lauren and Caleb exchanged phone numbers. It felt like a step toward actually contacting each other on purpose instead of only getting together through happenstance and coincidence and a well-timed argument.
But Caleb further broke protocol when he actually texted Lauren on his day off and invited her to come over.
It was a move that broke through the artifice. He’d been kidding himself if he thought whatever was between them would be limited to them stumbling into each other. He’d stopped himself from texting her a few times, but ultimately, he realized he wanted to see her.
She’d shown up at his door with a brown paper bag with the Shake Shack logo on it, so they’d had burgers for dinner and sex for dessert.
And now Lauren was in the bathroom while Caleb sat in his bedroom, fretting about whether he’d crossed some line from this being something vague and ephemeral to this being something concrete and real.
He still wasn’t ready. He couldn’t fall in love. He wouldn’t get married. He just wanted sex and companionship, not for this to be a whole thing. Because Lauren was…Lauren. The cat café manager with her head in the clouds. They were unsuited for each other. It didn’t matter that he enjoyed her company now. It was likely only a matter of months before they wouldn’t be able to stand each other anymore.
When Lauren walked back into the bedroom, Caleb was sitting on the bed, flipping through channels on his television. He tried to push all thoughts of this being a relationship out of his head.
“I only own one TV,” she said. “Having one in the bedroom seems luxurious.”
“I put the TV on to help me fall asleep sometimes.”
“Yeah? What do you watch?”
“Well, for one thing, there’s this forensic investigation show on one of the upper dial cable channels that airs all night. They solve crime with science.” Caleb paused on an ad for a personal injury lawyer. “I love this guy’s accent.”
It was a pretty aggressive Brooklyn accent; the guy looked Italian and had probably grown up in Carroll Gardens or Bensonhurst. Not only did he have the “cawffee tawk” vowels down, but he hit his consonants hard.
“Better or worse than the Boston accent?” Lauren asked.
“Dunno. More of a novelty, maybe. When I lived in Boston, one of our vet techs had a hard-core Southie accent, so I heard it every day and got used to it. Plus I grew up in Maine, where nobody pronounces Rs, either. Still, the first time the tech told me a canine patient had parvo, I had no idea what he was talking about. He kept saying ‘pah-vo.’”
“Parvo?”
“Canine parvovirus. It’s a virus we see in dogs sometimes. Anyway, my point was that the New York accents are new and different.”
She looked at the TV for a long moment. “It’s perfectly in character for you to be into a forensic investigation show.”
He shrugged. He’d done enough necropsies in his career that not much turned his stomach, but he could admit that someone with a weaker constitution might not like the content of the show. But he liked that they could solve the puzzle of these crimes with hard science and logic.
And speaking of logic, if Lauren noticed he’d broken protocol, she hadn’t said anything.
He looked over at her. She had on a pair of lacy pink panties and one of his old T-shirts. She climbed onto the bed, where he sat in a pair of boxers, and snuggled up beside him.
Were they about to…watch TV in bed together? It seemed like such an established-couple thing to do. Certainly not what two people only seeing each other for sex would do.
“Can I ask you a question?” Lauren said.
Caleb’s chest tightened in anticipation. “Yeah.”
“I just… Well, I had drinks with Evan the other night, and we were talking about dating, and it felt very strange I couldn’t tell him about you and me.”
“What about you and me?”
Lauren leveled her gaze at him and patted his knee. “I hate to break this to you, but we have a relationship. It’s secret and undefined, but it’s still a relationship.”
He sighed, unable to deny that.
“So at some point,” Lauren said, “you and I transitioned from people who hate each other to people who sometimes have sex to people who are basically having a secret affair. We’ve spent more nights together the last few weeks than some real couples do. But… It is a secret, isn’t it?”
Going public, for lack of a better way to explain it, would be like advertising to the world that they were in a relationship, and Caleb didn’t feel he could do that. He wanted to keep seeing Lauren, especially like this when she was half naked in his bed, but he didn’t want to make a commitment. He didn’t know that much about her, did he? They got along well in bed but less so out of it. It wasn’t like they were going to end up together. Caleb had no intention of marrying again. He’d trusted love once. He wouldn’t make that mistake twice.
“Do we have to label things?” he asked.
“No, not this minute. I’m okay with the way things are. I just feel weird about this all being a secret.”
“I know women talk, but do you really have to talk about this? It’s no one’s business. I’d really rather it not be public knowledge.”
Lauren leaned back and stared at him, her expression surprised. “Women talk?”
“You know. You go for drinks and gossip and stuff.”
“I don’t live in an episode of Sex and the City. I would just like to be able to tell my friends about something significant happening in my life. But maybe what we have is fleeting and not significant and doesn’t matter.”
Oh, here it was. “It’s…fun. I enjoy spending time with you like this. Does it have to be anything more than that?”
“No, it doesn’t have to be.” She sat back against the headboard and crossed her arms. “This thing between us may become something you don’t want, though.”
“What do you mean by that?”
&nb
sp; She rolled her eyes. “How long do you think this can just…be the way it is? How long before one of us gets emotionally invested? How long until one of us meets someone else? I mean, maybe none of those things will happen, especially to you since you have no feelings, but I have a hard time believing this can just go on forever. And neither of us wants it to.”
“But if it’s working for us, why change it? Why not just…let it work this way for as long as it does.”
She closed her eyes for a long moment. “All right. And then the minute it isn’t working, it’s over?”
“I guess so.” Which was all he could offer, but Caleb still felt a little twinge. Did he want this to be a big thing? No. Did he want it to end? No.
She seemed dissatisfied with his answer, too, and turned toward the TV. Caleb looked at what appeared to be an episode of Law & Order from the ’90s.
“We talked about this. This right here is all I’m capable of right now,” he said.
“Fine.”
“You’re mad.”
She grunted. “I’m not… Okay, I’m a little mad. Do you even like me?”
“Yeah, of course I do.”
“As more than a body?”
He had to think a little harder about that. He wouldn’t have broken protocol if he didn’t though, would he? “Yes.”
“Am I wasting my time here?”
“Is there somewhere else you need to be?”
“No.”
“Then…”
She sighed again. “Status quo it is, then.”
Chapter 19
The crack of thunder outside ensured a slow afternoon at the café. Lauren tidied up the cat room, lamenting the weather interrupting her business.
“I went on a Tinder date last night,” Paige said. “This guy Brandon who lives not far from here.”
“Okay.” Lauren picked up a series of cat toys off the floor while Paige draped herself in a chair to tell her story.
“So, first of all, we ate at this upscale Mexican restaurant near Smith and Bergen, and the food was delicious. I think it was maybe the best Mexican food I’ve had in New York.”
“Low bar,” said Lauren. Any cuisine from around the world was available somewhere in New York City, but Mexican food was decidedly mediocre if one didn’t know the right places to find it. The popular Mexican restaurants in midtown Manhattan could provide a serviceable burrito, but for Lauren’s money, the best Mexican food she’d had come off a food truck she’d found in Red Hook one time when she got lost trying to get to Ikea. Which meant she’d never find it again.
“I mean, it’s probably not authentic,” Paige said. “It was tasty, though. But get this. When I was walking there from the subway, I walked past a store that only repairs those fancy trendy strollers all the rich parents have.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Can you imagine? A whole business whose only job is to repair one brand of stroller, and there’s enough business in the neighborhood for it to stay open.”
“That’s wild.” Lauren shook her head. “I mean, we’re clearly part of the problem, but it’s amazing what gentrification brings to Brooklyn. A cat café is one thing, but a stroller repair shop?”
“The Mexican restaurant is a block from that new indie bookstore, so I made Brandon take me there after dinner so I could check it out. Compare it to Stories.”
“And?”
“It’s more open and modern. It’s a huge space and they’ve got a good variety of books, but I always thought Stories has old-school charm. Also, they sell T-shirts. I should tell Pablo to let the owners at Stories know that they should sell T-shirts.”
“Maybe we should sell T-shirts.”
Paige’s whole face lit up. “We definitely should. You should hire Evan to design them. I bet he’d give you the best friend discount.”
It was a sound idea, Lauren thought, and another potential income stream for the business. She filed that away in her mind and grabbed a broom to start sweeping the floor. “How was the date otherwise?” she asked.
“It was…fine. Brandon seems like a nice guy. He’s young though. Only twenty-five.”
“That’s only, like, two years younger than you are.”
“Yeah, but there’s a wide gulf of difference in life experience. He lives in an apartment over a pizza place on Nevins with, not kidding, four roommates.”
“Did you see the inside of this apartment?”
“Not yet. The potential of all those people overhearing us was daunting, and then I chickened out about inviting him back to my place because I thought having to ride the subway together would be awkward and might spoil the mood and I didn’t know how to break it to him that my place is kind of fancy. We’re seeing each other again next week, though.”
“That seems promising.”
Paige shrugged. “We’ll see. I want to keep my options open. I kind of think I might be the oldest person on Tinder, though.”
“That can’t be true. But that is also why I’m not on Tinder.”
“Nobody meets in person anymore. We’re all too busy looking at our phones. I want to meet a great guy and fall in love, so I might as well give this a shot.”
“What about all the frogs?”
Paige smiled. “There’s got to be a prince in there somewhere.”
“I admire your optimism. I wish I shared it.”
Paige sighed and looked at the table.
“What?” Lauren asked.
“I just… Please don’t be mad, but Evan and I talked recently about you. Like, maybe this whole choosing-yourself thing is just because you don’t want to put any effort into dating.”
Lauren didn’t want to have this conversation. Part of her did believe strongly that she had to see to her own happiness before she could commit to anyone else, but this thing with Caleb was throwing her off her plans. She’d forgotten how nice it was to spend time with a man in a sexual and romantic context. She loved her friends, she loved spending time with them, but it felt like Caleb had fallen into a hole in her life.
But her life was not complete. Not while things with Caleb were secretive. Their relationship felt unreal at times.
“Maybe,” she said, trying to sound noncommittal. “Although I was serious when I said I wanted to work on myself before anything else. If I don’t date, why does it matter? If I’m happy and single, I’m not hurting anyone.”
“Sure, but…are you happy?”
Lauren smiled to show she was. It probably wasn’t convincing. “I’m getting there.”
“Are you?”
Lauren was frustrated her friends didn’t really get this or thought she was lying. She wasn’t; she’d meant it when she’d said she wanted to find her own happiness. “Look, it wasn’t a hollow sentiment. I could probably walk into Pop right now and find some guy to go home with. That’s not the point. The point is to focus on myself, to find a way to be happy with my life even if I never end up meeting the man of my dreams. Evan’s been freaking out about Brooklyn being out of eligible men, and although I think his fears are unfounded, there is a real possibility that I will never meet a man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t want my future happiness to hinge on whether or not I get married. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t, but it shouldn’t matter.”
Paige held up her hands. “All right.”
“I’m just saying. And that’s not a knock on you and Evan either. If finding the right person and getting married and having babies makes you happy, then you should do that. If being in a relationship makes you happy, then I hope you find the best guy in New York to be with. I personally have some other priorities, and I want to be successful in my work here more than anything else right now. I like my life as it is. If the right man wandered in here one day, well, that would be one thing, but since he hasn’t walked into my life yet, then
I want to work to make my life amazing, man or not.”
Paige frowned for a moment. “Okay. I mean, I get it. I believe you. I just wanted to be sure that you were swearing off romance willingly and not because you feel hopeless or whatever.”
“I haven’t sworn off romance. It’s just not a priority.”
“All right. Well. I think I’ll give Brandon another chance.”
“Good. I hope that works out.” And now things were awkward between them. Lauren sat on the sofa and rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry for speechifying.”
“It’s okay. I do understand what you’re saying. We women kind of grow up molded into thinking our job is to please a man, when our goal should be to please ourselves. Uh, pun intended, I suppose. If you’re not dating, I hope you own a good vibrator.”
Lauren laughed, which seemed to break whatever tension had arisen between them.
Paige stood, so Lauren did, too. Paige walked over and gave Lauren a tight hug. “You’re a great friend and I love you. I want you to be happy.”
“Thanks,” said Lauren. “Same for you.” She sank into the hug and felt some tension drain from her body.
When they pulled apart, Paige said, “I need to get going whenever this weather passes. I’m crashing a book club meeting at a café near the courthouses to try to talk them into switching locations.” She winked. “Plus I read the book. It’s this wacky novel that takes place in parallel universe New York Cities, and there’s this old man and a teenage girl, and I can’t really explain it, but it was excellent.”
Thunder roared outside again.
“Or maybe I’ll stay here for a bit. I think I’ll test the new barista’s latte skills. You want anything?”
“Sure, I’d drink a vanilla latte, while we’re testing him.”
“Cool. Be right back.”
Lauren went back to sweeping. She mulled over the conversation she’d just had with Paige. Caleb had been on her mind, but of course she couldn’t say anything aloud. His wish had been for whatever was between them to remain secret and undefined. That would continue for as long as they both wanted it to. So did Lauren want it to?
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