Page 124 of The Last Good Man

We’re generally good at keeping in touch, but that has changed as they have married, and Alice is about to do the same.

I’m still single.

I study the letter before opening it and retrieving Melissa’s invitation.

Our meetup is on March 14th at seven o’clock in a luxurious Midtown Hotel.

My heart sinks at the prospect of showing up with some run-of-the-mill date or worse… With no one.

I could not go.

Yeah. It won’t work.

We’ve been good friends for many years. Not showing up would only bring more attention to my problem.

I crane my neck and peer up and down the corridor.

Why is my letter being delivered to my door?

We all have individual mailboxes in the foyer and usually get our mail without a problem.

The delivery person must’ve put Melissa’s letter in someone else’s mailbox. I wonder who that was.

I look at my neighbor’s door. Was it Marlowe? Did he get my letter?

It could be. It could also be someone from upstairs.

I step back, close the door, and walk to the living room when my phone rings.

Wow.

What is wrong with people?

I snatch up my cell phone and swipe the screen, not believing my eyes.

“Alice? Is everything all right?”

Noise comes from the other end of the line.

“Alice??”

“Oh. Hi. I’m sorry. Are you here?”

My mouth pulls open.

“Here?” I mumble as the noise intensifies.

“I’m sorry. I can’t hear you. Let me go to the restroom,”shesays.

I get nervous as a few moments pass.

The noise subsides as she moves to a quieter area.

“Hi,” she says again, panting as if walking briskly. “Are you here?”

I freeze.

Why does she keep asking me that?

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