Attach ments(49)

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Not very catchy. Does this mean you have new cute-guy information to share?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Duh. Yes. I worked kind of late last night, and when I went to the break room around 9 for a delicious packet of Cheez-Its, guess who was sitting right there for all the world to see?

My Cute Guy. He was eating his dinner and talking to Doris.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Doris, the vending machine lady?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> None other. She was talking to him about her dog. Her dead dog, I think.

Actually, there’s a chance she was talking about a dead child, but I don’t think so. Anyway. Doris was talking about her dog, and My Cute Guy was listening attentively and asking follow-up questions, nodding his head. (It was very involved. I don’t think they even noticed me ogling.) He could not have been nicer.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Maybe he just likes to talk about dead dogs.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Or cuter. He could not have been cuter.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> And funny? How was he funny?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> It’s hard to explain. Doris was asking him if a dead body would fit into a can of Pepsi, and he said it would probably fit better into a two-liter.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> That sounds gruesome. Has anyone seen Doris today?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> In context, it wasn’t gruesome. I think she was talking about cremating her dog. I was eavesdropping, not taking notes. The important thing is, he was nice—really, really nice.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> And really, really cute.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Oh my God, yes. You have got to see this guy. You know how I said he looked like Harrison Ford? I’ve had a better look now. He’s Harrison Ford plus the Brawny paper towel guy. He’s just massive.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Like Mr. Universe massive?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> No …he’s more like the guy they would have cast as the Hulk if they’d made a live-action Hulk movie in the forties or fifties, back when powerful didn’t mean chiseled. Like if you saw John Wayne with his shirt off, he wouldn’t have had a six-pack, he’d just look like the kind of guy you’d want on your side during a fight. Like maybe this guy, My Cute Guy, lifts weights.

Dumbbells in his garage or something. But he’d never touch a protein shake.

You know what? We might have to start calling him My Handsome Guy. He’s a little deeper than cute.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Okay, I can see him now. Harrison Ford plus John Wayne plus the Hulk plus the Brawny guy.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Plus Jason Bateman.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Who’s Jason Bateman?

Also, why were you still here last night at nine o’clock?

<<Beth to Jennifer>>

1. Jason Bateman was the best friend on Silver Spoons.

2. You know I like to work late.

<<Jennifer to Beth>>

1. The guy from Fresh Prince?

2. I just can’t understand why you wouldn’t rather be home.

<<Beth to Jennifer>>

1. The other best friend. The white guy. With the crinkly eyes and the interesting nose. His sister was on Family Ties.

2. I like to work late because I don’t like to work early—and I have to work sometime.

If I get here first thing in the morning, I feel like I have to iron my clothes. But by 2 o’clock, nobody cares. And by 7, nobody’s here. (Well, except copy editors, and they only half count.) Besides, it’s kind of cool, being here at night. It’s like being in the mall after it closes. Or at school on a Saturday. Plus, sometimes I legitimately have to work late. Like, if I have to write a review on opening night or something.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> I guess I just don’t like being here that late. The year I worked on the nightside desk was the loneliest year of my life.

And I guess I know who Jason Bateman is. I’ve just never thought of him as cute.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Well, think again. And My Cute Guy is even cuter.





NO, NO, NO, Lincoln thought.





NO.

It couldn’t be …

She couldn’t mean …

He stood up from his desk, walked around the empty information technology office. Sat back down.

Reread the e-mail. Cute, she’d said. Massive, she’d said. Oh my God, she’d said.

Handsome.

No. It must be a mistake, she couldn’t have meant …No.

He stood up again. Sat down. Stood up. Started walking toward the men’s bathroom. Was there a mirror in there? What did he need to look at, anyway? To see if he still looked like himself? There was a mirror. Full-length. He looked at his reflection. Massive, he asked himself. Really? Massive?