“I really should,” I say. “Anyway, this was… nice. I mean, not the date. But the before and after.”
He grins. “Happy to help.”
“I should probably head home. Had a full day, and all. I actually had a job interview today. For my dream job.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” I say, probably rambling. I inch toward the subway steps. “I never got your name, actually?”
He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a small notepad and pen. It’s a slick move, matching his suit, his demeanor, the moneyed air. I don’t trust guys like him. Never have, not since my childhood. But something about him makes me feel energized.
Alive.
“Carter,” he says, scribbling something. “I’ve enjoyed talking to you. Don’t see this as having any strings. But if you need to pick a guy’s brain or be rescued from awful blind dates again…”
I stare at the paper he’s extending toward me. Carter, it says. And beneath it are seven digits.
“Your phone number?”
“The very one,” he says.
I take it, and wonder why I’m not nervous. He’s a man. An exceedingly handsome one, even. But I’d seen the woman he turned down tonight, and she could easily have passed for a model. Looked happy and smiling, too.
This thing, him and me, is so clearly a friendship thing. So I don’t feel nervous at all, accepting the piece of paper.
“Thanks,” I say. “Might be good to get a guy’s perspective on things.”
“Anytime,” he says, and nods to me. Like an old-time gentleman seeing off a lady. “Get home safe.”
“Thanks,” I murmur again, and walk down the steps. It isn’t until I’m halfway home, dizzy from all the impressions of the day, that I realize I never gave him my name. With shaking fingers, I add his number to my phone and give him the glorious name Carter Peanuts.
Then I send him a single text.
My name is Audrey. Thanks for the peanuts.
His response comes just as I’ve unlocked the room I’m renting on the second floor of a brownstone. I rest against the closed door and read it, feeling endless possibilities stirring around me.
Carter: Anytime, kiddo. Pleasure to meet you.
TWO
Carter: When’s your next date with hyperventilation?
Audrey: I didn’t hyperventilate, not fully. And I’ve been talking to someone new, actually.
Carter: Tell me about this guy.
Audrey: It’s just someone I matched with on an app. The conversation is meh, but he seems cute and he has a dog.
Carter: Good thing conversation isn’t a big part of relationships.
Audrey: Funny. Not every guy is talkative, you know. Just willing to strike up a conversation with a perfect stranger at a bar.
Carter: I get that. I’d never do that, for example.
Audrey: Me neither. What if the other person was a weirdo?
Carter: Or worse. Serial killers abound.