Page 72 of Moonlighter

This is the note I should have written to you after that debacle in Florida. The I’m-sorry-I-behaved-badly note. So here goes:

I’m sorry I was so abrupt with you when we got off the jet. I was really scared and not thinking straight. Not that it’s any excuse. You were nothing but wonderful to me in Hawaii. I don’t think I’ll forget that trip anytime soon.

The baby and I are both fine. My symptoms stopped within forty-eight hours, and I haven’t had any more trouble. My doctor here in New York shrugged and said, “it happens.”

So I’m back at work, getting ready for my big launch and calling my lawyer every few days to see if they’ve made their move on the paperwork that I need signed. They haven’t approached him yet, though. I think your brother is trying to dig up some more dirt first.

They don’t tell me the details, either because it’s quasi illegal or they think I’m a fragile flower. But I hope to know more soon.

I hope you’re doing great and enjoying the start of the season.

Best,

Alex

I read it twice. It’s a nice note, but it doesn’t say, “Swing by and visit later.” Not that I have her home address, or even her phone number. I never asked for it in Hawaii. I didn’t need to. The security team handled everything.

My brother has her number, of course. I could ask him. But that’s a crap idea. He didn’t like my behavior in Hawaii. He might not even give it to me.

Instead, I do an internet search for Alex’s corporate headquarters. I dial the main number and ask to be connected to Alex’s office. I wait on hold for a while, and then a man’s voice eventually picks up. “You’ve reached the CEO’s office, how can I help you?”

His voice is familiar. “Rolf?”

“Speaking.”

“It’s Eric Bayer calling. Can I speak to Alex?”

“She’s in a meeting.”

Of course she is. “Look, Rolf. I got a letter from her today, and I don’t have her cell number. I need to reach her.”

“Iknewyou weren’t really the boyfriend.”

“It’s complicated. Can you give me her number so that I can speak with her later?”

“No way,” he sputters. “I’d have to fire myself immediately for giving out her personal information.”

I was afraid of that. “But you can give her mine, right?” I rattle it off, hoping she gets the message. And, more than that, hoping she returns my call. I know I’m supposed to be just a friend. I can live with that. But I’d really like to see her.

When I hang up, Castro is sitting beside me. “So, what’s the real story?”

“I told you. It’s confidential.”

My teammate’s eyebrows lift. “I meant with you, blockhead. She’s having a confidential baby with some other guy. But you’re the one on the beach.” He hands me the old photo from Martha’s Vineyard. I guess it’s made the rounds. I take a good look at it. I see two kids turned loose for the summer to entertain themselves. We thought we were so naughty, but we reek of innocence.

“There’s no big story,” I repeat. “I’ve known Alex a long time. I have a soft spot for her, I guess.”

“Oh man.” Castro shakes his head.

“What?”

“You got that look.”

“What look?”

“The one Leo gets whenever Georgia walks into the room. The one that O’Doul—who claimed he’d be single forever—got when he started seeing Ariana. Thelook.”

“You’re drunk,” I grumble. “I’m going to be single until the end of time. Just like your grumpy ass.”