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After clearing the dishes, she picked her phone up off the side table and went to swipe it to send a message. The screen was black. “Oh, crap,” she whispered to herself, squeezing her eyes shut. She grabbed the wall charger and plugged it in, but all she saw was a judgemental little red battery flashing at her. How could you let me go flat again? It seemed to be screaming at her.
She paced the floorboards of the apartment, pretending to tidy up scattered cushions and put away text books, until it finally buzzed to signal that it had returned to life. Then, it vibrated again, and again, and again.
She held her breath as she lifted it.
This day is dragging. Probably because I just want it to be night already.
Last meeting of the day. Wish it was you on my desk instead of this executive sitting across from me.
See you soon.
She checked the time. He’d sent it two hours ago.
She gulped. Her fingers ran across the screen as she tapped out a message.
Are you sick of waiting for me? J.
The reply was immediate. Are you playing games with me? C.
She bit down on her lip. Would you believe my battery died?
I’m buying you a spare phone. Just for me. You will keep it permanently plugged in.
She grinned. That’s not necessary. I’ll just try to remember to charge this one from time to time.
Their next messages crossed over. She wrote, I can be there in half an hour.
At the same time he said, I’d love to see you.
She smiled. Great. I’ll be there as soon as the fates of the subway can carry me.
No. No subway. Martins is in the car. He’ll get you.
She wiggled her lip between her fingers.
I can hear you thinking of ways to say ‘no’. I don’t want to hear them. Just text me your address.
Still she was silent.
Are you worried I’m going to stalk you?
She laughed. It was ridiculous.
I think I’d like being stalked by you. She smiled as she hit send. Tell Martins I’m on the corner of Morton and Hudson. I’ll wait downstairs.
Carter fought the urge to tell her to stay inside. She’d survived to the ripe age of twenty three without his help. Presumably that had involved criss-crossing New York via the subway, and standing outside buildings at night. He put his phone down and moved towards the terrace.
The night was warm. A perfect summer’s evening. In the distance, he could hear the rumble of cheers from an event, and a siren wailed beneath him. He had grown up in the deep South, with his mother, but he loved New York. The eccentric, harried, multi-layered nature of the city appealed to him. Nowhere else on earth could you get such a mix of world class art, expensive apartments, homelessness and crime. It was grubby and regal at the same time.
He waited impatiently for Jane.
Waiting was never his forte, but he considered that he’d been waiting for her all day. Since he’d woken up to find her side of his bed cold, his lover long gone.
He didn’t analyse why his impatience bothered him. Why it needled him to have been single-mindedly thinking of her all day.
When she knocked on his door, he was ready. He pulled it inwards, and grabbed her hand, pulling her inside. He kicked the door closed and pressed her against it, his kiss loaded with the intensity of his need. “I am going to lock you in here if you can’t remember to arrive on time.” He grunted against her mouth.
She lifted her hands and ran them through his hair, down his back, hooking them in the waistband of his jeans. “I didn’t want to seem too keen.”
