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It was too soon. Too much of a commitment. And there was still that thing about his not knowing that she wasn’t who or what he thought she was. There never seemed to be a good time to tell him.
So, she refused.
But she would stay on weekends.
Which was why the weekends were wonderful.
They walked the charming old streets of Soho, explored Central Park. They went to the Bronx Zoo and ate cotton candy and hot dogs; they went to the movies and he tried not to roll his eyes as she sobbed through a chick flick, but he knew better than to call it that.
Then Sunday would come and they were back to two residences even though her toothbrush was in his bathroom and lots of her clothes were in his dressing room.
It made Marco crazy.
As if that weren’t enough, she wouldn’t go to the office with him. Charles drove him. She took the subway. They did the same thing in reverse at the end of the day.
What would people think, she said, if they saw them coming to work, going from work, together?
That they were lovers, Marco thought, and cursed himself for ever having told her that business was business and pleasure was pleasure and the two didn’t mix. It turned out that they did mix. In was, in fact, a perfect combination
After several weeks, he decided to take things into his own hands.
He left his office. Charles was waiting. Normally, they’d have driven home and Emily would arrive later. Taking the subway took much longer, especially at that hour.
But Marco, being Marco, had developed a plan.
Charles was an important part of it.
“Are you positive this will work?” he asked. Marco raised an eyebrow. Charles held his ground. “Are you positive this will work, sir?” he said.
Marco laughed. Then he sighed.
“No,” he said. “But I am a desperate man.”
And so, that evening, he got into the Mercedes. But instead of heading uptown, Charles drove to where Emily would board the subway. There were no parking spaces, of course, so he pulled up at a fire hydrant.
A few minutes later, they saw Emily hurrying along
the opposite side of the street.
“You know what to do,” Marco said.
Charles nodded. Marco got out of the car and ducked traffic as he ran across the street. He caught up to Emily as she was going down the steps to the subway station.
She glanced at him. Then she did the first double take he’d ever seen except in a movie.
“What are you doing here?”
“Experiencing the joys of rush-hour public transportation with you,” he said cheerfully as he stepped on a discarded wad of chewing gum.
“I’m going downtown to my apartment to pick up a few things.”
“An even longer ride. I am delighted.”
“What’s the matter with you, Marco?”
They reached the turnstiles. Emily had a transit card. Marco had come prepared and had one, too.
“Why should something be wrong with me?”
