I'm Your Man by Timothy James Beck Page B

at work? It sounds like you’re outside. What did you do, step out on a ledge? Don’t do it, Gretchen!”
    â€œAccountant and window ledge jokes are about as tired as postal workers and pistols, Blaine. Besides, the market is quite bullish today. And so am I. But no, I’m not at work.”
    â€œI have a message that you called me. What’s going on?” I asked.
    â€œI saw Lola Listeria’s column in the Star-Gazette. I tried to call Sheila, but she was at the gym or something, according to Josh. He didn’t say anything about the column, and I didn’t ask.”
    â€œSmart move,” I commented, filling Dexter’s bowl with food. He immediately came out of hiding to eat, not bothering to thank me. “I haven’t talked to her yet. I’m not looking forward to it.”
    â€œI don’t want to see her blow a good thing by flipping her lid. That’s all,” Gretchen said. “She’s very lucky to be successful. Especially in a career where everything could end as quickly as it began. So I wanted to see if there’s anything I could do.”
    â€œSheila’s no fool. She knows she has a good thing. One little argument with her agent won’t send her life falling down like a house of cards.”
    Gretchen suddenly became quiet, and I could hear someone speaking to her in the background. Then she said, “I have to go, hon.”
    â€œHon? You never call me that. Or anyone, for that matter. Gretchen, where are you, anyway?”
    â€œOkay, bye,” she said quickly and disconnected our call.
    Still holding my cordless phone, I stood in the middle of my apartment, wondering why Gretchen had acted so oddly. It was almost as if she was keeping our conversation a secret from someone. She’d said she wasn’t at work, where it might make sense to disguise a personal call. But since she wasn’t, why would she take the call outside? Away from whomever—
    Suddenly it was all too clear to me. I strode across my apartment to one of the two windows and looked down at Daniel’s patio garden. There, talking with Martin and gesticulating, her cell phone still in her hand, was Gretchen. I turned on my cordless phone and started punching in numbers. When she answered, I said, “Gretchen, hon, when you’re done down there, could you stop by my place for a minute? I’ve been thinking of investing in a new home. The view here sucks.”
    I hung up without waiting for an answer. She looked up at my window, as did Martin, who blew me a kiss. I waved, then stepped away from the window. If the only word for my reaction was petulant, the best description of my mood was pissed off. Which I knew was ridiculous. Gretchen and Martin had been friends for a long time. Even if he’d been part of my breakup with Daniel, I couldn’t expect everyone else to be mad at him, too.
    I supposed what was really bothering me was how seeing them at Daniel’s made me feel excluded. It reminded me of the time when I’d first noticed him and tormented myself trying to figure out who he was, who his friends were and what they talked about, and what the details of his life were. It was as if Daniel was a stranger again, and I was on the outside.
    The phone rang, and I took a deep breath before I answered.
    â€œYou sound strange,” Violet said. “I forgot to tell you something. You received a fax today from Gavin Lewis. The massage therapist I found for you in Baltimore. What should I do with it?”
    â€œWe’ll talk about it on Sunday night. Stop working!”
    â€œNot to worry. I’m already checking out a sexy sales associate at Barneys.”
    â€œHe’s gay. Or in a committed relationship. Or both.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œBecause I don’t need for you to fall in love, get married, and leave me.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind. Goodbye again, Mr. Dunhill.”
    The phone rang