read ‘Single female, mid-20s, seeking roommate.’ I think living with someone like you would be refreshing."
"I see. Well, I still have other people interested and I'm showing the apartment again today. I'll call you and let you know what I decide."
I walked Cynthia to the door and, from the way we said goodbye, it was apparent to us both that I would not call her—at least not to tell her that she could move in. As I walked back to the living room, I felt sad. Not for myself—even though I was striking out in finding a suitable roommate—but for Cynthia. Just yesterday my problems seemed huge, but here was a woman who was about to start her life over with nothing to build on but a broken marriage and no self-confidence. Unfortunately, I knew how she felt. Not that I had invested nearly so much of myself or my time in Lawrence as she had in her marriage, but I knew what it felt like to be cheated on and lied to. Meeting Cynthia made me even more grateful that I had not fallen for Lawrence completely. My self-confidence and heart were still intact.
At a quarter to four I answered the phone expecting it to be my four o'clock appointment either canceling or calling to say she would be late. It was Lila, my boss.
"Chloe, so sorry to bother you on Sunday, but all hell is breaking loose."
"Lila? What happened? Where are you?" I knew Lila wasn't due in till later that night.
"I'm at LAX and it's horrible. My flight is delayed due to rainy weather. Can you believe it? I absolutely hate L.A. Remind me to never fly out of this airport again."
"I’m making a note of it now. So what do you need me to do?" I smiled. Lila was such a drama queen. Everything was an emergency and had to be done yesterday or the world would end. I was used to rushed phone calls and Lila shooting off a million instructions at once. My pen was already poised over a pad of paper.
"Well, first of all, thanks to Marcus Blanchard we may very well lose the Soft-Glo Fabric Softener account. Someone on his team tweeted on their account instead his personal Twitter, something about doing body shots off a stripper and YOLO. I need you to set up a meeting with Hampton, Marcus, and myself for first thing in the morning. We'll need at least an hour and a half, and make sure they all know that this is mandatory. Marcus has screwed up for the last time. Also, I'm going need an hour sometime tomorrow with just Hampton and myself."
I scribbled furiously. Lila had given me at least ten things to do that night and was in the process of giving me one more when there was a knock at the door. I rushed to answer the door, holding the phone to my face with my shoulder and trying to walk and write at the same time.
"And I need to fly out to Chicago next week,” Lila was saying as I opened the door. With great relief I greeted the white man before me.
"Hold on one sec, Lila. Hi! Come in, come in, the bathroom's down that hall, first door on your right. Okay, I'm sorry, Lila. Go ahead, Chicago next week."
As I turned my back to the front door I heard it click shut. With any luck, Mr. Tucci's cousin would be in and out before my four o'clock. Speaking of which… I glanced at the wall clock. Where the hell was she?
"Yes, see if you can get me a direct flight on Sunday afternoon. I have to be there for a meeting Monday morning, the usual hotel."
"Got it, Lila. I'll take care of it tonight."
A tone on the line indicated I had another call.
"Anything else, Lila?"
"Yes, but they're boarding my flight. I'll send you an email with the rest from the plane."
"I'll be looking out for it. Have a safe flight."
"Thanks, talk to you later."
She was gone and I hit the flash button to switch lines. At the same time I turned to find the plumber standing in the entryway.
Into the phone I said, "Hello." To the plumber: "Done already? The water is still running.