Page 168 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“Marsh.”

“Nice to meet you, Marsh.” She smiles. “So, do you do anything fun for work? Or are you not allowed to talk about it?”

“I’m a writer,” I say.

“Oh really?” she says with intrigue. I’m positive she thinks I’m a screenwriter.

“News writer.” I pop that bubble before she gets ahead of herself.

“Wow,” she says. “Okay, so not fun at all.”

I laugh. “No, not so much these days.”

We go back to our tasks, and about an hour later, Kathy starts to pack up her stuff. She stands up and throws her tote over her shoulder. When we make eye contact, I give her a nod.

“Hey,” she says, gripping her strap, “I know we didn’t really get to talk, but it was cool getting to know you.”

“Yeah,” I say. “You too.”

“If you’re ever wanting to do another working session, maybe we could meet up again?”

The offer takes me by surprise. I’m not entirely sure if this is a friendly gesture or if she’s perhaps trying to throw the ball in mycourt. While I’m not at all looking for something, I try to not let an opportunity pass me by.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I say.

She passes me her phone. “Okay, cool. Here, put your number in and I’ll text you.”

I take her phone and am about to put my information in but then stop. “Actually, I’m kind of hungrynow.Would you want to grab some food?”

“Yeah.” Her face breaks out into a smile. “Yeah, I’d really love that.”

“Okay, great,” I say, closing my laptop. “I’m about done here, let’s go.”

I pack up my stuff, and we find a taco joint up the street. For the rest of the day Kathy and I talk about our jobs; she tells me about how she became an actress, how she moved here from Utah, and how she works a corporate job at a healthcare agency during the week. I tell her aboutThe Journal,going to school at USC, and how Sadie is my best friend.

By sixp.m.she suggests going to her apartment in Glassell Park, and I willingly accept the invitation. She has a blind rescue cat, navy blue kitchen cupboards, and a queen-size bed with pink and white duvet covers. Her hair is much longer than I thought it was once it’s out of her messy bun, and she has a graze of freckles over her shoulders and a belly button ring. We do all the things that would and should feel good. She screams out my name when I’m behind her. When we finally finish, we collapse onto her bed, and I don’t feel good about what just happened. I wait until she’s fully dressed before I tell her that I’m not looking for anything serious.

“Oh,” she says. She mutes the volume onThe Officeand adjusts her position on the couch to face me.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have told you earlier, but I justcame out of a serious relationship. I thought I was okay, I really did, but you’re great and I don’t want this to be something you don’t think it is.”

“No,” she responds, putting up a hand. “Don’t apologize. Honestly, thank you for telling me. I much prefer this rather than me texting you tomorrow and having you not respond.”

“I am sorry, though.”

“It’s all good.” She smiles.

I throw my palms on the top of my thighs. “I, uh, guess I should get going.”

“Yeah, probably.”

I stand up and head toward the door to put on my shoes. “Thanks for today, Kathy.”

“Thankyou,Marsh.”

We give each other a hug, and I realize I don’t even have her number. No trace of this person I shared an afternoon with.

The next morning, I go back to the same coffee shop and decide to write something different.