LITMIR.BIZ

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on the large table. “I was just thinking about my plans for the weekend.”

      “Fun ones?” Addie hoped they were special and interesting, because then She could think about something other than Kevin.

      “I’m getting a new mattress Saturday afternoon. And then I’m going to see a movie.” She pushed her too-large brown glasses up her nose. “I like going to movies by myself, do you?”

      Addie nodded reluctantly. She did, but was ashamed not to want a lot in common with Linda. “I don’t mind, either.”

      “I like getting there early because I like to sit in the middle of a row, not too close, and because I like to watch the previews, and have popcorn all to myself. And since no one talks to me, I can really disappear into the film.”

      “Same here.” Actually…exactly the same.

      “And then after the movie I’ll probably go home and organize my kitchen. It’s driving me crazy that the flour and sugar canisters are on the opposite side of the counter from the measuring cups and spoons. I’ve stood it this long, but no more.” She tossed her mousy-brown curls, beaming triumphantly.

      Addie took a long sip of skim milk to wash down her suddenly dry sandwich. She’d made similar changes after Great-Aunt Grace died.

      “Sunday’s my weekly brunch with my friend Marcy.” Linda finished peeling a banana and took a bite. “We have sesame bagels with whitefish salad and read the New York Times travel section to plan fantasy vacations.”

      “Have you been on any?”

      “No, no, they’re just for fun.”

      “Why don’t you go on one?” Addie was as surprised as Linda by the edge to her voice. She read plenty of travel articles, had the money and could take the time, but hadn’t been anywhere, either. “Or two, or three or all of them?”

      Linda shrugged. “I’m an armchair traveler. Saves me trouble and sunburn and storms and delayed flights.”

      Oh, dear. She forgot lost luggage.

      “I’m a creature of habit I guess.” Linda polished off her banana and picked up a brownie. “Like I have the same thing for lunch every day.”

      Addie stopped with a big bite of apple in her mouth.

      “I feel comforted by routines. I like knowing what to expect.”

      Addie told herself to keep chewing, that she was never going to finish the apple while frozen in horror.

      “I was thinking after work today I might stop by the humane society and look at cats.”

      Steady, Addie. She could panic, or she could take this lunch as a sign that maybe she was a tiny little bit stuck in a very small rut.

      “They’re supposed to be great company. Perfect for an apartment. And not as much work as a dog.”

      Large rut. Moon-crater-size rut.

      Help.

      Be rational. Rationality was one of Addie’s best superpowers. She’d use it now, like this: it was good that Addie was faced with the person she could turn into. Especially today, her half birthday, because she had time to change before she turned thirty.

      So she’d change. Starting today. Right after work, instead of going to the gym, then showering and having dinner in her apartment reading whatever parts of the New York Times she’d missed at breakfast and lunch like she did every evening—except when she had book group or dinner with a friend, she was going to…do something else. Like…

      Well, she’d think of something.

      She said a grateful goodbye to Linda and charged off to finish her day. By five-thirty, her plan had been cemented into action. After work she was going to Blackstone’s on E. 55th. She’d have two drinks and look available. If nothing happened, one point for going and good for her, it was a start. If she talked to at least one guy, two points and a pat on the back. If she was asked for her phone number, three points and a high five.

      Given that it was a hot sunny Thursday in late August, when people were already looking ahead to the weekend, she’d give herself excellent odds on making two points and call it even on three.

      Done.

      Blackstone’s was crowded and noisy, not usually her thing, but today exactly what she was looking for. She pushed her way into a spot at the long bar and managed to get a glass of Chardonnay from the bartender, thinking it might seem more feminine than the beer she was really in the mood for, and wondering if a navy skirt and cream blouse was any kind of come-on outfit. She was pretty sure it wasn’t. But hey, Addie was alive and she was female. That was enough for plenty of guys.

      She stood resolutely, sipping. Looking around. Smiling.

      And sipping.

      And looking around.

      And smiling.

      “Excuse me.”

      Addie turned hopefully to look into dynamite blue eyes. Oh, my.

      “I was wondering.” He quirked a dark brow. Even his eyebrows were sexy. “Is this seat next to you taken?”

      “No.” She tipped her head seductively. Two points! “Help yourself.”

      “Thanks.” He didn’t sit. But…his girlfriend did. Then the guy practically climbed into her lap and the two of them started sucking face.

      Okay, then. Time to go.

      She exited the bar, staggering into a guy as the alcohol kicked in. Did he catch her and did their eyes meet and did choirs of angels sing?

      No. He said, “Hey, watch it, lightweight.”

      Right. Fine. Whatever. She’d go back home to her rut and stay there.

      On the way she stopped into the supermarket on Lexington Avenue for a deli sandwich and a cupcake—chocolate with chocolate frosting.

      Girl gone wild.

      She made it home, hungry and cranky, managed a halfway nice smile for the doorman and stomped onto the elevator where she turned and saw Mr. Gorgeous coming into the lobby. Oh, just great. She rushed to push the button that would close the doors so she didn’t have to face more man-failure, but she hit the wrong one and kept them open.

      He got on. “Thanks.”

      “Sure.”

      The doors closed. They stood there in their customary silence. Addie took a deep breath. She had nothing to lose. Face it, she couldn’t even see over the top of her rut.

      “I’m Addie.” She stuck out her hand. “I live on eight.”

      “Oh, yeah, right, hi, Addie.” He couldn’t have been friendlier, took her hand in his strong warm one. “I’m Mike. On ten.”

      She grinned. Maybe her rut wasn’t quite so deep after all. “Nice to meet you, Mike.”

      “Same here.” He looked her over, but not in a leering way, more polite and appreciative. “My great grandmother was named Addie. Not a name you hear a lot anymore.”

      “No.” She wrinkled her nose. Men never associated her name with hot babes they’d lusted after their whole lives. Always great-aunts and grandmas. Addie’s mom had named her after a Faulkner character in the novel As I Lay Dying.

      So cheery.

      “Any fun plans tonight, Mike?” Ha! Listen to her. No one could accuse her of being boring now. Maybe Mike would even like to split a cupcake.

      “Yes.” He nodded enthusiastically. “My boyfriend and I are going to make enchiladas and listen to Madama Butterfly live from the Met on Sirius radio.”

      Addie tried as hard as possible to keep her features

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