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“You don’t like him?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t mean it like that. You know I like him. You guys make a great couple. But that doesn’t change the fact that I still have to return home to an empty apartment.”
“You don’t have to, Charlie. You’re choosing to. There’s a difference.”
“I don’t want to talk about this again.” I turn off my computer and grab my purse out of the bottom drawer of my desk.
“We never talk about this.”
“Why does it feel like we do, then?” I stand and look at her. That’s when I notice the change, notice how much she has changed. She’s beautiful, more beautiful, because she’s in love. Maybe it’s her recent engagement, but no matter what it is, I want that, too. I want the way her skin looks brighter and her eyes shine. Even her smile appears bigger than I remember. Did she have her teeth whitened? Everything about her is just . . . prettier, and she looks happier.
She leans against my desk and rubs my arm. “You’ve gone through a lot this last year. You’ve given yourself the time you need to rediscover who you were before Jim, but I see the longing sometimes. I know using that word sounds cheesy, but it’s there, in your eyes. You want love, and I think you’re ready for it.”
I look down at a file lying open on my desk, running my fingers down the text. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m ready to start dating again.”
Standing upright, she clasps her hands together. “That’s the Charlie I know. Go home and finish your book, and let’s plan to go out this weekend.”
“Yeah, okay. That will be fun.”
She looks at her watch. “I’ve gotta run, but we’ll make plans tomorrow morning.”
I nod as she dashes around the corner.
Walking through the lobby, I push through the revolving door as I hold down the feeling of sorrow that’s overcome me. It’s winter, and the dark of night comes earlier. I close my eyes, absorbing the chill on this February day. The weather has been cold, colder than I remember in years past. It makes me wonder if loneliness has played a part in the forecast. I reopen my eyes, feeling self-conscious, and start walking again.
“Hey, Charlie, wait up.”
I stop, looking over my shoulder, surprised to see a guy jogging toward me. It takes me a moment to place him, but then I recognize him from a night out with Rachel and Justin. “Conner? Um, hi. What are you doing here?”
I know he’s Charlie’s best friend, and I want to ask about him, but maybe I’m ready to call and talk to him myself. My heart still holds a place for him that I can’t deny any longer.
“Hi, I came to see if you’d grab a drink with me. Just one, if you can spare the time.”
“Oh. Sure. What’s this about?”
“Let’s get that drink.” He smiles, and my defenses go down. “You can relax. I’m not going to hit on you or stalk you or anything like that.”
“So I take it this isn’t a social call?”
“Kind of.”
“There’s a place right across the street. It’s dark, not fancy.”
“Cool.” He walks next to me and seems relaxed, but I can’t help but think this is a bit of an odd visit. “How’ve you been?”
We cross the street as we chat. “Are we making small talk?”
“Yeah, I thought we would.”
I laugh. I like his honesty. “I’m doing good.”
“You look good.” I raise an eyebrow, and he stammers to correct himself. “I mean you look . . .” He shrugs. “Shit! I’m screwing up here. You look good, but I don’t mean that in an inappropriate way, though. Happy, maybe. Are you?”
“I’m still working on happy. I have my days, just like everyone else.”
He nods in understanding, which makes me wonder what Rachel or Justin, or maybe even Charlie, has said in regard to me. The place is empty except for one other occupied table at the back of the bar. He points at a table against the wall, more toward the middle.
“So I hear you’ve got something of mine,” he says, leaning his elbows on the table.
“What’s that?”
“My lucky rabbit’s foot.”
“The orange one?”
“Yes, ma’am. So you do know of it?”
“Don’t call me ma’am. I’m younger than you. And yes, I might have seen said lucky rabbit’s foot.”
“Feisty. Charlie said you were feisty and a lot stubborn.”
“He’s right on the last account. So you came to get your foot back?”
“Not exactly. I came to tell you a story.”
“Well, you wanted to grab a drink, and here we are, so I think drinks are in order before we start this story. I’d like Boddington’s on draft.”
Conner smirks. “Coming right up, doll.”
When he returns with two pints, he doesn’t waste time getting to the point. “Last April, I went on vacation, an end-of-season skiing trip. I was only supposed to be gone for a week or so but ended up staying three because I met this girl. Okay, that’s beside the point. The point I’m trying to make is that at the time, my man Charlie was on what I’d like to call a losing streak with the ladies.”
