Page 77 of What I'm Looking For

On my way back to my office, as I pass Short Brad’s open door, a wolf whistle follows me. My initial instinct is to slink back to my office, hoping to disappear—but what if I were to face them instead? Dogs will never stop chasing rabbits, but sometimes a housecat can give them pause if she arches her back high enough.

I take the three steps back to Short Brad’s office and slap my hands on the doorjamb, taking up as much space as possible. Channeling my inner lioness, I ask, “Was there something you needed?”

Three heads look up from spreadsheets scattered across the desk.

Brown-Haired Mark nods slowly. “Whoa, Bishop. You look hot. Bitchin’ rack.”

I smile slowly, dip my chin. “Really?”

Weak-Chin Steve rocks on his heels. “Yeah, you got some bodacious tatas, Bishop.”

Short Brad knocks on his desk in approval. “Totally bangin’!”

I lean in and pitch my voice to a low purr. “Well then, gentlemen, if you’re so hot to trot, let’s go at it. Let’s knock boots, do the humpty hump. Right here, right now.” I hold the gaze of Brad, then Mark, then Steve, my smile widening as each one breaks eye contact.

Short Brad shuffles paper on his desk, laughing nervously. “Uh, heh heh… we were just kidding, Kate. Just joshin’ around.”

“Face!” Brown-Haired Mark high fives Weak-Chin Steve. “She told you, Brad!”

“She was talking to all of us, penis-breath.” Brad mutters.

Savoring the win, I turn slowly from the whimpering hounds to make my exit.

“Your loss,” I call before practically skipping back to my office.

* * *

Saturday evening,the bleat of Pam’s VW Bug lets me know that my ride’s here. I grab my keys and my bag, into which I’ve stuffed a few essentials since Will wants me to stay over at his place after the closing party. We won’t sleep as comfortably in his tiny bed, but he can celebrate without worrying about having to drive me home. I kiss Frankie on the nose and run out the door.

Deb leans her seat forward so I can crawl into the back, most of which is taken up by the long legs of a striking blond guy. After a beat, I realize that I met him the day Will and I made good use of the ballet barre in the rehearsal studio. Hopefully, my face does not reveal that information. “Ben, right? I’m Kate.”

“I remember.” His smile transforms his broodingly handsome face. More boyish, less tortured. “Will thought you ladies could use an escort.”

Pam catches my eye as she peals out onto Magazine Street. “He doesn’t trust us with you.”

I hang onto the VW’s strap like my life depends on it. Which it might. “Or the other way around? I bet I can get some good embarrassing stories about him from you guys.”

Deb cackles. “Oh, yes.”

Ben’s hands spread in the air in front of him. “Keep it clean. I blush easily.”

Pam reaches behind her seat to swat at him, causing the car to swerve. “Liar. If you blushed easily, you’d never have made it through all those photo shoots surrounded by naked people.”

Ben laughs, and his face blushes as promised. “Yeah, well, sometimes they do color adjustments on those things, you know.”

I decide to change the subject for poor Ben’s sake. “So, where are we going for dinner?”

Deb sighs in an exaggerated way. “Ben’s a vegetarian, so we’re doing Indian. That okay?”

“Sure, I’m happy with whatever.”

A little over an hour later, we’re piling back in the car, laughing again. I don’t know if Deb and Pam know that seeing the show upset me opening night or if they’re just always super fun people. Either way, they are an excellent distraction from the emotional rollercoaster to come.

* * *

As the enthusiasticapplause and hooting from the audience gradually fades away, I’m clasping my hands together, trying to hang on to the last moments of the play and to the whole experience. It’s like church, as Will says, but better.

Ben bumps his shoulder against mine. “What’d you think?”

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