SWF Seeks Same

Probably a sicko hunched over a public phone and running his finger down the directory pages, calling whichever female names appealed to his perverted sexuality. Maybe right now he was making the same kinky suggestions to some woman whose name began with K, a woman he’d never met. No need to worry about a sorry individual like that, whose sex life depended on Ma Bell. Allie made herself smile out at the world from the mirror. A philosophical, confident smile.

But as she attempted again to work the earring post through her earlobe, her hand trembled so that it was almost impossible to do.

Chapter 13

OTHER than a massive Hispanic youth in shorts and a black muscle shirt, Allie was the only customer in Goya’s. Apparently the restaurant didn’t do much morning business. On the other hand it was past nine o’clock; she’d slept late, then decided to eat a quick breakfast out before her appointment at Fortune Fashions with Mayfair’s secretary. She’d pushed the obscene phone call as far from her thoughts as possible.

Goya’s was cool. The air conditioner and ceiling fans were toiling away despite the briskness of the morning. The young guy in the shorts and sleeveless shirt ought to be shivering instead of sitting there calmly sipping what looked like a Pepsi and gazing out the window. His leather jacket was slung over the back of the chair next to him.

Graham Knox, the skinny waiter with the jug-ears and bushy black hair, took Allie’s order, then returned a few minutes later with her bagel with cream cheese and coffee. He seemed to be fighting back a grin as he placed the order before her on the table. Good cheer was like pressure beneath the skin of his face.

He began to walk away, hesitated, then turned back. A neat pivot. He said, “I know simply being your neighbor gives me no claim on your time, but … well, I’ve gotten some good news and I guess I just have to share it with somebody. Business is slow and you’re here and we are neighbors, so you’re it, Allie. You mind?”

Allie set the bagel back on its plain white plate. What was this about? Had Graham hit the lottery? “I don’t mind at all. I like hearing good news, even somebody else’s.” She smiled, which Graham took as a signal to put on his lopsided grin. He looked like an amiable puppy when he did that. Allie liked this sincere and friendly man with the protruding ears and intent dark eyes.

He did an embarrassed little dance. “It happens I’m a playwright, and I’ve been working on a script for over a year. Way over a year, actually. And finally it sold. It’s going to be produced.” He waited a beat or two, then he shrugged, as if, on second thought, having a play produced was no big deal and he shouldn’t have mentioned it. “Anyway, that’s my good news.”

“It’s great news!” Allie said. “Congratulations! I mean it.”

“The title’s Dance Through Life. It’ll be onstage at Creative Playhouse down in the Village. Know the place?”

“‘Fraid not. I love live theater, though. Especially off-Broadway.”

He widened his grin. “This is far enough off Broadway you’ll need binoculars and a guide to find it.”

“Don’t be silly. That is a hell of an accomplishment. God, to come to New York and actually have a play produced. You realize how many people try that and fail?”

“Oh, believe me, I do.”

“I’ll go see it when it opens.”

“Really? I’ll make sure you get free tickets—good seats. For you and your—” He suddenly clamped his mouth shut. “I mean—”

Allie knew who he meant. Hedra. But how had he found out about her?

He glanced around like a conspirator in occupied territory. The big Hispanic kid stared back at him with flat, wary eyes, as if suspecting he was the subject of derision. “It’s all right by me if you have a roommate,” Graham said softly. “What am I, the police? I noticed her in the Cody lately, saw her a few times with you. Then one day I heard you two talking as you got off the elevator, and you or she said something that revealed she was living with you. That’s a major taboo in the Cody. I got out of sight in a hurry so you wouldn’t see me. Didn’t want to let you know that I knew.”

“How long have you known?”

“Oh, a couple of weeks. It’s okay, though, your secret’s safe with me. Honest!”

“I believe it is, Graham.” What choice did she have? “But don’t mention it to anybody else. Please!”

“My word of honor on that, Allie. In this friggin’ city, I never know when I might have to advertise for a roommate myself to share expenses.”

“Not you, Graham. Not a successful playwright.”

She was afraid she’d sounded patronizing, but he didn’t seem to think so.

He wiped his hands together as if drying them on an invisible towel. Blushed. “I wouldn’t say successful. At least not yet. And there’s not that much money in it. Besides, Dance might fold after a week. Maybe after one performance. It happens.”

“Don’t jinx yourself.” Allie spread cream cheese on her bagel, took a bite, and sipped her coffee.

He began to back away, embarrassed. She realized for the first time that he had a crush on her. Well, that was all right. A natural enough phenomenon that happened between men and women. Mature, normal people didn’t let it upset their lives, didn’t act on those low-level emotions and let them develop into more than friendship, into something that seized control.

Then she remembered the obscene phone call.

Graham?

No! Ridiculous. I won’t let life in this city poison me. Graham Knox was the nicest and least threatening male she’d met in months. She wouldn’t let urban paranoia destroy a burgeoning friendship.