Page 26

TWENTY-FIVE

The morning air is hot already in Alex’s apartment, a layer of humidity coating her skin, making her feel sticky and uncomfortable as her eyes flutter open. It feels at first like any other hot summer morning in New York. But then she remembers.

Today is the day that Alex becomes a published writer.

With a quiver of nervous energy, she tosses the sheet off her legs. The sun beats in around the edges of the privacy curtains. She pulls them up, letting the hot summer light spill onto her bare walls.

She rushes to the shower. “Morning, Mildred, Percy,” she says to her pigeons. They swivel and bob their heads at her from the bathroom window. The date still lingers with her, and as she steps into the shower, she swears she can smell Tom on her skin even though they haven’t so much as kissed. Not yet. When she thinks about him, she can still feel the electrical charge between them. After all this time it feels good to be near someone again. As much as she doesn’t want to let herself hope for anything more than that, not yet, Alex can’t help herself.

A car swerves around the corner, laying on the horn as Alex crosses the street to the Bluebird. She rolls her eyes at the sound of summer road rage. It happens this way every year as soon as the heat becomes a weighted blanket. Across Manhattan the changeover is happening from early summer to deep hot summer. Every rich person will have fled by now to their home in the Hamptons, their month in the Greek islands, their grandfather’s rustic cottage in Maine. It is only the people who are working hard, those who are struggling, and those who are new that are left wandering around the city dodging the tourists with aggravation in their bellies.

The air is humid and thick with cooking oil as Alex makes her way to the back corner of the Bluebird. Raymond is sitting in his usual spot, the crown of his head barely visible over the newspaper in his hands. As she gets closer, she sees that instead of his usual tabloid-sized Daily he is holding up a copy of the Herald . Her heart thuds. Her column must be in there. It’s hard for her to even believe.

“There she is,” Raymond says. “Our famous neighborhood advice columnist.” He swivels the paper to show her the column printed with a small illustration of her face next to it. Alex looks in wonder at the words, her words printed on the page for the whole city, the whole country to see.

“He bought his own copy, that’s how excited he was,” Janice says.

“You did a great job, Alexis,” Raymond says. His wide hand pats her on the shoulder as she sits down next to him. “I don’t know how you did it. I could never have that kind of patience or insight. I would have just told them to stop whining and get over themselves.”

“It was beautiful,” Janice agrees. “He had tears in his eyes.”

“That was from the toast burning.” Raymond dismisses her with a wave. “Practically smoked us all out.”

“Well, that’s because someone likes it extra crispy.” Janice clears her throat, glancing at the black crumbs left on Raymond’s plate, then says to Alex, “Usual?”

Alex’s stomach rumbles. She can feel last night’s slight wine hangover behind her eyes. “Actually, I’ll have what he’s having,” she says, pointing at Raymond’s mushroom and cheese omelet. Janice’s tattooed eyebrows shoot up her forehead, but she writes it on a slip and passes it back through the window to the kitchen.

“What’s different about her?” Janice says, putting down a fresh mug of coffee in front of Alex. “Besides her adventurous order.”

Raymond also turns to stare. “You’re right, there is something. Maybe it’s just her sudden fame?”

“Is that it?” Janice asks. They both stare until Alex breaks.

“Fine, stop torturing me. I went on a date!” Alex admits, covering her face with her hands as soon as she says it.

“I knew it!” Raymond slaps the paper against the counter.

“No, you didn’t,” Janice says, grinning. “ I knew it. Didn’t I say?”

“I did, I did. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”

“A date? Alex! How could you have kept this new development from us?” Janice asks. “Who is he?”

“He works at the building across from the Herald ,” Alex says quietly, already wishing she hadn’t told them. “We met at the coffee shop across the street. He was working late too.”

“A banker?” Janice scrunches up her nose. “I never liked those finance types. You think they’re just boring but they’re actually depraved.”

“Who’s paranoid now?” Raymond coughs. As usual, his T-shirt is covered with toast crumbs. “Nothing wrong with having a nice normal job.”

Alex leans over the counter, blocking them from starting one of their arguments. “Yeah, he works at Excelsior Bank, but I get the feeling he doesn’t like it. He did tell me something interesting about Howard Demetri though. Something potentially damaging.”

“Oh, really?” Raymond says. Both of them bend toward her to hear.

“What did you find out?” Janice asks.

A man far down the counter waves a hand at Janice. “Hey! Are you going to take our order?”

She returns his request with a look of death. “I said I’ll be right there. So how does he know Howard?”

“Well, he doesn’t. Not really. But his office is right across from Howard’s office and apparently he’s seen Howard in there when he’s working late.”

“So the man works hard? That’s to be admired,” Raymond says.

“ With someone,” Alex says meaningfully.

“And?” Raymond is not getting the hint.

“I think she means the man is having sex in his office, Ray,” Janice hisses loudly enough for the rest of the diner to tune in. Raymond’s toast stops halfway to his mouth.

“Yes, he says he saw Howard and a woman on his desk. And it wasn’t just once.”

“Very interesting. Did he see who the woman was?”

“No, he couldn’t see her very well. But I don’t think it was Regina—Howard’s wife.”

“So, he’s having an affair. That’s a very interesting development. Maybe you could get your friend to stay late again, and he could find out who it is. We could stake out the place—”

“No, absolutely not, Ray. I am not involving Tom.”

“Oh, his name is Tommmm.” Janice’s eyebrows waggle.

“Just because your new boyfriend saw something by accident doesn’t mean he isn’t involved now. He can be helpful to us, Alexis.” Raymond pushes his plate to the edge of the counter. “More toast please, Janice.”

“Wait, what did you just say?” Alex asks, her heart suddenly thumping.

“More toast?” Raymond looks confused.

“No, before that.” Something laps at the edge of Alex’s brain.

“He stumbled on someone having sex by accident?” Raymond asks, still confused.

“Yes, exactly,” Alex says, thinking of the indentation on Howard’s ring finger and the angry late-night phone call she’d overheard. The thought fills her with anxiety. Maybe it wasn’t some disgruntled recipient of one of her columns who killed Francis Keen after all. Could she have seen something at the office, something she wasn’t supposed to?

“What if Francis stayed late in the office one night, reading through those stacks of letters…?” Alex begins.

“And somehow stumbled upon Howard having an affair,” Janice finishes, tapping her pen against her chin.

“Exactly.”

“Then we’d have a motive,” Raymond says. “Can you even believe it? Maybe the main suspect has been sitting up there this whole time in the editor in chief’s office.” His voice rises with excitement.

“All you need to do is find proof,” Janice says. “You need an ally, someone who’s been there for a while who can give you more evidence.”

“You guys, I really don’t want to lose my job,” Alex protests.

“And you’ll have to be able to give them something, too, in exchange for information,” Raymond says, drumming his fingers on the counter. “These things never come free.”