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Natasha
In the week since we had dinner together—and no, I still wasn’t willing to call it a date—Victor and I had talked to one another almost every day. On most of those days we talked more than once. The calls were never long; five or ten minutes at most. One or the other of us would have some little thing we simply had to share with the other.
I considered myself to be a good judge of character, so it had almost become unnecessary to talk to Vanessa about the type of man Victor was. But on Monday, I called Vanessa and we played phone tag for a couple of days, before I decided to take a different approach.
“This is Natasha. Meet me tomorrow for lunch at Friday’s on Atlantic at one o'clock. Leave me a message if that’s not good for you.”
Vanessa returned my call a few hours later and left me a message.
“I need a secretary and so do you. One’s cool, but don’t be mad if I’m a little late. You know how this place can get. So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
That day I sat patiently waiting for Vanessa to arrive. At ten after one, Vanessa arrived and we ordered. Then she told me this fantastic story about the systems going down at work and traffic on the way here. “So, how are you doing? I like that suit, where’d you get it?”
“I’m doing fine. Working harder than I really like. Things are still a little chaotic with me transitioning to the new job. And I got the suit off the last-chance rack at Macy’s. So, how’s married life?”
“Natasha.” Vanessa took a sip of her ice tea. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it doesn’t feel any different.”
“That’s because the two of you have been living together for so long.”
“I guess. Maybe I was expecting fireworks or something; but so far our married life has consisted of me and Paul having a big expensive party. We went on vacation like we do every year. Victor met us at the airport and took us to the new house. Paul carried me across the threshold. We got up the next morning and we went to work. No big deal.”
“The wedding was beautiful.”
“Which reminds me, Natasha.”
“What?”
“What did you do to, Victor?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t sit there looking innocent like you don’t know who Victor is. That’s why you wanted to have lunch, so you could ask me about Victor. Ain’t it?”
“Well, ah—yeah. I did want to ask you about him. But that’s not the only reason, Vanessa. I haven’t seen or talked to you since the wedding.”
“Yeah, right. But tell me something.” Vanessa smiled. “And if you say that it’s not my business I won’t feel bad at all, but what’s up with you and Lloyd?”
“There’s nothing up with me and Lloyd. It’s finally starting to sink in that the relationship isn’t going anywhere.” I paused and thought about it. “And even if it was going somewhere, I wouldn’t be interested in going there.”
“I see. Just be careful and sure of what you’re doing. Now, about Victor. You’re all he wanted to talk about.”
“Really?”
“Tell me about Natasha. Natasha says this and Natasha likes that. I got so tired of hearing about you last night I had to throw Victor out.”
“Tired of hearing about me, huh? I’ll try not to take that personal.”
Vanessa threw up her hand. “Anyway.”
“You know him pretty well?”
“I’ve known Victor almost as long as I’ve known Paul. I met Paul on a Friday afternoon; he introduced me to Victor on Sunday afternoon. He’s good people.”
“What did he want to know about me?”
“Whether you were crazy.”
“I know you told him I was, so I don’t even have to ask.”
