Page 22 of Hero

“Is that what we’re doing—sizing each other up for a date?”

“What else?” she said, and held up her hands. “No rings on either of us. I saw you looking at me before, so don’t pretend you didn’t like me.”

“I look at everybody.”

“You certainly do. And everything. I was getting embarrassed.”

“So embarrassed that you brought your drink and your jacket to my table.”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to stop looking. Just not enough right then to make other people look too.”

“It was curiosity. It’s always been my weakness.”

“Mine too. Something else in common.”

“What’s your name?”

She said in a thick accent, “Ajkuna.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Besjana.”

He looked at her closely. “Could be.”

“It’s Anna.”

“I’ll buy that. I’m Joe.” They reached the end of the alley and he could see his car parked on the side street under a sycamore tree. He felt an instant of relief to see that the tree hadn’t dropped any branches on his car, as they sometimes did in the summer. He took a step to the sidewalk in that direction. She was still at his side. He had expected her to step in another direction. He stopped.

“What?” she said.

“I guess this is the end of the line. That’s my car over there.” He paused. “I’m planning on going to work now.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an assistant district attorney for Los Angeles County.”

“No, you’re not,” she said.

“Nope. But that reminds me. You should take a look in your jacket, and verify that everything is still there. I don’t want to be accused later of taking your dowry or your plans for a cold fusion reactor.”

“No need. I don’t bring those things when I go to a coffee shop. And you said before that you were honest.”

“That’s also what a crook would say.”

“But I have my jacket and I can feel my phone is in it. I told you I have a stalker. Aren’t you going to offer to take me home? Is chivalry dead?”

“Where do you live?”

“I didn’t mean to my house. I meant to yours. It’s after ten. I can see your hair is damp and smell your soap. You just had a shower but you’re dressed like a twelve-year-old. You’re not going to an office.”

“I work at home, but it’s still work and I have to get it done.” It felt hollow to him as though he’d lied, even though it was true.

“I get it. You’ve already decided you don’t like me. It’s fine. Maybe we’ll see each other around sometime, but if we do, don’t say hi.” She started to walk toward the back door of an Urban Outfitters.

“It isn’t that I don’t like you,” he said. “It’s that I’m a little afraid of you. Nobody behaves this way. How can this be anything but a scam?”

She stopped. “You should have more confidence in yourself. Women sometimes talk to men just because they look interesting or seem smart, and women love confidence. All women. If you learn to have confidence, then next time somebody talks to you, you won’t think she must be a criminal.”

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