Page 112 of The Photograph

A girl with a desk by the door raises her head. “The cute guy in the sharp suit? He just left,” she says.

A hot flush races across my skin. He shook his head when I asked him if he was okay. Goddammit, what’s happened?

“How long ago?”

She shrugs. “About five minutes?”

Damn, Alex. I shoot out the door, fumbling with my phone as I take the stairs three at a time almost plummeting headlong down the last flight. In that time he could be anywhere. I press his number on my screen and listen to it ring and ring.Pick up, Alex. Pick up. Why did you come here and then leave?

Hanging up, I crash through the door to the street and look frantically up and down like I could spot him somehow. God, he looked bad, his eyes … He looked crushed. Shit. Have I crushed him? Is it me? It’s always me. I’ve been ignoring his calls and messages. He’d just come out, and I didn’t even allow him one little wobble. I’m such an idiot. Nana’s words ring in my head. If anything happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself. I press his number again. Why did I waste time talking to Rodrigo? At the corner of the street, I scan the traffic, the people, phone pressed to my ear.Come on, Alex, pick up goddammit.Why am I just standing here?

I stare around wildly, and as my eyes alight on the coffee shop on the sidewalk I remember the place we’ve spent a dozen lunches in over the last two months.Sweetgreen. Would he go there? He could be heading back to work or Great Neck, anything. Fuck.Alex, pick up.The rings echo in my head like the distant sound of sirens. Plan, I need a plan.

I hang up and gaze down at my phone, and as it swims in and out of focus I suck in a deep breath.Concentrate.What are his options here aside from going home or to his office? His grandma’s? What about other friends? He said he stayed with people in the city sometimes but I haven’t met any of them: Imight be able to reach out to them on Facebook.Okay. Go to the café first, Des, it’s two blocks away. Then his work, then call Mrs. S and get his parents’ address. You can message people on the way.

I scroll to Jo’s phone number, and she picks up as I’m heading across the crosswalk.

“Hey, Des.”

“Hey, I’ve stepped out for a sec. That guy I told you about, Alex, dropped into the office and seemed distressed and now he’s disappeared so I’m going to try and find him.”

“Oh really? That doesn’t sound good. Is it serious?”

“I have no idea, but I’m worried about him.”

“No problem. You need anything covered?”

“No. I fired Rodrigo, though.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry, we are hearing all about it. James is overseeing him packing up his desk. He’s complaining at the top of his voice about the injustice of it all.”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry, Jo. I …”

“You made the right call. Don’t worry about it. You were right about him. He didn’t even try to fit in, and this stuff with Amy …” She blows out a long breath.

“He groped her. You might need to deal with that with her,” I say.

“Yeah. Apparently, he put his hand up her skirt,” she says.

“He told me something similar.”

“Can you write it all down when you get back to the office?”

I squint up at the puffy white clouds in the sky. Ironically, it’s one of those hot but beautiful July days in New York. “No worries. I can remember what he said.”

“Good luck, Des. I hope you find Alex.” She hangs up.

Over the next two blocks, I spend the time searching Facebook contacts connected to Alex, and end up messaging him directly through the app on the off chance he’ll see it. Why isn’the picking up my calls and texts? The sun warms my head and bounces off the buildings, and sweat breaks out as I trot along the sidewalk. The sign for Sweetgreen looms in the distance.

As I reach the building and peer through the plate-glass window, a familiar dark-haired guy is paying at the counter.Thank God. Thank God.My breath heaves like I’ve been hit by a truck.

I wrench open the door. “Alex!” I say, and he swings around. Something in me melts when I see his face.

“Des!” His smile is more of a grimace. “Do you want a coffee?”

Then I’m in front of him, hand pressed to my shirt over my thumping heart. Christ, my cardio skills are abysmal. “You disappeared. I thought, I thought …” It all comes out in a jumbled gasp.

He tilts his head at me and smiles, and it’s so sweet and so Alex, that I just step into his body and place my mouth on his.

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