Page 23 of Flirting with Forever

“Hi, I’m Mary Trace.” She shook hands with Richie.

“Richie Dear. I’m John’s officemate.”

“Wow. That’s agreatname.”

“I get that a lot. So, if not jury duty, then...” Richie trailed off, glancing between John and Mary, shamelessly tossing logs onto the flame of his curiosity.

“Oh! Right. John, I found this in my shop yesterday and I wanted to return it to you. I was going to leave it at your office, but when I got to the public defender’s office over on Fulton, the receptionist told me that you were here for the day, so here I am. I would have brought it up to your meeting room, but, rest assured, the security here is very good.” She grinned at Carlo, and Carlo went a shade of peach that John had never seen him go before.

“Ah.” John reached out for his driver’s license, concluding gloomily that there was very little chance that Mary had identified its ownerwithoutlooking at the photo of him. The photo where he pretty much glowered like a clean-shaven Blackbeard. Ah well. “Thanks. I hadn’t even noticed it was missing yet.”

“Well, I’m going out of town until tomorrow night, and I wanted to make sure you had it before I left.” Mary checked her phone. “Actually, I’d better get going to Penn Station if I’m going to make my Amtrak.”

“John,” Richie said in a voice that was decidedly not his normal speaking voice. “Aren’t you going to catch the train right now as well?”

John swallowed, his eyes narrowing on Richie’s mischievous expression. “I’m taking the F, not the A.”

“But the A takes you to the E, which will get you to the Q100 just as fast as the F,” Richie said helpfully, his voice as sickly sweet as a Coke stirred with a sugar straw.

“Maybe even faster,” Carlo cut in, laughter dancing in his eyes.

Considering himself boxed into a corner with no graceful way out, John turned to Mary. “I have to go up and get my bag and paperwork before I can head out. Do you have five minutes?”

She checked the time again. “I have up to fifteen minutes, if I’m feeling crazy.”

“Be right back.” He silently willed Richie to come upstairs and leave Mary alone, but of course his nosy friend started chatting her up the second John took a step away. He sighed and made his way to the elevators, scarfing down his lunch on the way up. He had just enough time to wash his hands, steal a breath mint from the front desk and grab his things before he headed back downstairs. Richie, Carlo and Mary still stood in the same formation, all three of them laughing as John approached.

“Ready?”

“Ready. Bye, Carlo. Bye, Richie!” Mary waved at them both and turned just in time to miss Richie sticking his fist underneath his shirt and making his heart beat like a cartoon. Carlo, a bit more subtle, merely looked at Mary’s back with the moderate wistfulness of a man who was actually very happily married.

John rolled his eyes at both of them and headed toward the train alongside Mary. “So. Where out of town are you headed?”

It always baffled John, who’d been born and raised in New York City, when people left the city. He knew the world was wide, but what could possibly be happening out there that wasn’t already happening in here?

“To see my parents for the night. Which is why I’m dressed like I’m applying for a bank loan.” Mary scrunched up her nose as they swiped into the train station.

John’s eyes skated down Mary’s form, taking in the overnight bag she had tucked against her hip and her navy shift dress and sensible heels. He hadn’t noticed when she’d been standing in the security line. He’d been too distracted by her bright hair and brighter smile. But now that he really looked at her, she did seem a little muted.

“You dress up to see your parents?”

She shook her head. “I dresstameto see my parents. They’re neutral-palette people.”

He wondered briefly how neutral-palette people could have spawned such a colorful, exotic creature as Mary. He thought of the oft-stilted brunches with his own father in fancy restaurants. Once a month like rusty, resentful clockwork. He supposed lots of parents viewed their children as blocks of ice they could eventually chip into shape. “I’m not getting the vibe that you enjoy visiting them.”

“Um. I like being in my childhood home?” Her tone of voice suggested that she was searching for something that she did actually enjoy about visiting her parents.

“But...” John prompted.

Mary sighed, her shoulders sagging a bit. “But my mother isn’t the most accepting person. She has lots of opinions. And no grasp on the concept that her opinions aren’t, in fact, facts.”

John chuckled. “I know a great many people like that.”

“As a lawyer, you probably do.”

The train came riding into the station on a puff of stale air, and luckily there were plenty of seats available. Their conversation veered away from her parents and more toward the plan for the date on Friday. She’d told Estrella that she’d changed her mind about Elijah Crawford. So far, Estrella had not come clean, even going so far as to say that Elijah would be there at the restaurant at eight o’clock on Friday.

John could only shake his head at his mother’s audacity, wondering if she was somehow going to track down his old classmate and talk him into showing up for the date. As they rode and talked, John became uncomfortably aware of a glowing warmth in his chest. Like an ember he wasn’t sure how to put out. There was a panicky kind of momentum attached to it. Like if he paid too much attention to the feeling, he’d end up blowing on the ember and making it burst into flames. He really, really didn’t want it to burst into flames.

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