these things help you think more clearly.'
My cell phone rings. It is a jarring note. I apologize, say I thought I had turned it off before dinner. Maybe it is Dex. Maybe he sneaked off to the bathroom to call me.
'Who is it?' Hillary asks. I can tell that she, too, is wondering if it's Dex.
'I'm not sure.'
'Well, check it out,' she says. 'We don't mind, do we?'
Julian shrugs. 'Not at all.'
I can't resist. I remove my phone from my purse and listen to the message. It's only Marcus. He says he knows it's late but wondered what I was up to.
'Marcus,' I say, unable to hide my disappointment.
Hillary reminds Julian of who Marcus is-the guy from our house. He nods, says of course he remembers him.
'Why don't you call him? Ask him to come over,' she says. 'We'll order another bottle of wine.'
She is sweet to offer, but I can tell that she is ready for the shared part of the evening to be over. And I don't want more charity. I say no, I'm tired, it has been a wonderful dinner but I should really get home. Julian makes eye contact with our waitress and asks for our check with a scribbling flourish in the air.
When we leave the restaurant, Hillary asks me if I'm going to take a cab. I tell her no, I think I'll walk.
'Forty-some blocks?'
'It's a nice evening.'
We say good-bye on Twenty-seventh and Lex. Julian kisses my cheek. He is about my height, a full two inches shorter than Hillary. I'm surprised Darcy failed to mention this. I tell Julian it was a pleasure to meet him. He says likewise, and looks forward to seeing me in Montauk. I hug Hillary and give her an excited smile to let her know that I wholeheartedly approve of her new beau. As I turn for home, I realize that although I am truly happy for Hillary, her fledgling relationship makes me feel even emptier, more alone.
The cozy foursome is likely leaving the theater now, headed to a nice dinner out, strolling the avenues, laughing and singing the catchiest tunes from the show. Resentment fills me up. If I had the dice with me now, I would throw them in a gutter.
I continue on toward Third, checking my watch. It is just after ten and suddenly I don't want to go home. I consider calling Marcus back, worrying that it would be unfair, and I'd only be using him to get over Dex. But I am so miserable and angry that I dial Marcus's number anyway.
He answers on the first ring.
'What are you doing?' I ask.
'Hey! You got my message?'
'Yeah, I did. I was at dinner. I'm in your neighborhood. You want to meet me for a drink?'
'I'd love to. Where are you?'
I tell him Twenty-seventh and Third.
'Right there at Rodeo Bar?'
I look up. He has the correct coordinates. 'Yeah, it's across the street.'
'Well, go in and get me a Pete's Summer Brew, would ya? I'll be right over.'
His voice is animated and cheerful and it makes me smile. I tell him I'll be at the bar waiting for him with his Pete's.
Rodeo Bar is as hillbilly as it gets in Manhattan. Old license plates frame the bar and a huge stuffed bison hangs from the ceiling. Peanut shells cover the floor.
'Hey, good-lookin,' I hear Marcus say behind me. 'This seat taken?'
I laugh and tell him no, he is welcome to it. 'Here's your beer.'
'And it's still cold,' he says, taking a long drink. 'Thanks.'
'You're very welcome.'
'So where were you?'
'I Trulli.'
He nods to say he knows the place. 'Nice. Were you on a date?' he asks, with feigned jealousy. He lifts his fist as if he's about to become violent toward the guy who infringed on his territory.
I laugh. 'No. I was with Hillary and Julian, her new boyfriend. You met him last weekend, right?'
'Oh yeah. That dude Hillary picked up on the beach.'
I laugh again. 'Something like that.'
'She did. For real. It was a strong move.'
'Hillary is more like a guy than a girl in a lot of ways,' I say, thinking that I could never approach a stranger on the beach like that.
'Yeah,' he says. 'It's great, really. I'm still waiting for you to be aggressive with me.'
I smile. 'Oh, really?'
'Yes, really.' He smiles, looking right at me.
'So,' I say.
'So.' He moves his arm against mine.
'I'm pasty,' I say, comparing our skin tones.
'I like pale,' he says. 'It's feminine.'
'So let me get this straight,' I say, 'you like aggressive women who look feminine?'
He snaps his ringers in the air and points at me. 'You got it. Can you deliver?'
I laugh and sip my beer, wonder if Marcus will kiss me tonight. If he does, I might kiss him back. I might even enjoy it. 'If you can't be with the one you love…'
We finish our beers. I say I am tired of country music and ask Marcus if he is ready to go. He says sure, do I want to go to another bar? Have I been to Aubette? It's only a few blocks away.
'Yeah. It's on the same block as I Trulli, right?'
'Yeah. I've only been there on weeknights so I don't know if it will be any good. But they have these killer apple martinis that would be right up your alley. You want to go?'
I laugh. How does he know what is up my alley? Dex is up my alley. 'Sure. Let's go.'
We walk quickly to Aubette, past the muscle-bound doorman clad in black at the entrance. We move inside. The crowd is hard to pinpoint-there is a bridge-and-tunnel element with a dash of Euro wannabes. I follow Marcus toward the cigar bar in the back and sit next to him on a buttoned leather couch with high arms. It is cozy, but would be cozier with Dex. I force him from my mind.
'What do you want?'
'An apple martini.' I can feel the red wine and beers moving toward my head. A martini probably isn't a good idea, but I don't care.
'You won't be sorry. Be right back.'
He returns with my apple martini and a glass of scotch for himself.
'How is it?' he asks, after I take a sip.
'It's good.'
'Tastes just like a Jolly Rancher, doesn't it?'
I take another sip. 'Yeah. It does. Want a taste?'
He sips from my glass and then licks his lips and looks at me. It is an invitation. For a second, in my semidrunk state, I am confused, unsure what to do next. I think of Dex. He hasn't broken off the engagement yet. He might never. I can kiss Marcus in the meantime. I must protect my heart. And something tells me that Marcus wouldn't mind being used in this manner. I lean toward him, initiate a kiss.
'Wow.' He grins. 'Didn't see that coming.'
I kiss him again.
'Or that,' he says.
I wonder if he will tell Dex. Part of me hopes he will. I kiss him a third time and add a little tongue for good measure. We talk some more. I am buzzed and vaguely attracted to him. He has nice forearms, with just the right amount of hair. We kiss several more times and it feels good, but nothing stirs inside me. And every time our lips touch, I miss Dexter a little bit more.
We finally leave Aubette and stand awkwardly in the street. A cab sails down Twenty-seventh toward Lex.
