You Are Here by Donald Breckenridge Read Free Book Online

“and how many months has it been since…” She blushed again, “you’re terrible,” before quietly conceding, “nine months.” Stephanie stood and walked toward the full-length mirror, “but maybe all this means is that,” the shoes looked even better on her than they had in the window, “something good will finally happen.” “You’re looking fine with the weight you’ve lost,” Karen smiled, “and as far as distractions go this one would rate pretty high.” “Would you ever get involved with a married man?” Stephanie asked. She was framed in the tall mirror, wearing a knee-length black cotton skirt and a light blue blouse that was almost the same color as the shoes. The crowded showroom with thumping techno served as an animated backdrop. “I might now that, that video boy, has unofficially bitten the dust,” Karen grinned mischievously, “What was the architect’s name?” A Deer Park truck came to a grinding stop alongside the curb just outside the window. Stephanie noticed the man staring at her in the mirror, “his name is Alan,” as he stood on the sidewalk, “he’s Jewish as well…” and smiled at his reflection, “tall and dark with beautiful skin.” Alan turned away from the window to remove his wedding band and watched a wiry Puerto Rican load four eighteen-liter water bottles onto a hand-truck.
    Karen placed her elbows on the table, “And you got new shoes?” Stephanie removed her purse from the back of the chair, “the shoes are on my Visa,” took a check for two-hundred dollars out of her wallet, “and this is for you,” and handed it to Karen, “thanks again for the loan.” She studied him in the mirror and decided that he resembled a younger version of that actor who became famous by playing the role of a successful surgeon on television. Karen looked at the date on the check, “Do you need me to hold this for you?” Alan sunk his hands into the front pockets of his black jeans as the water bottles were wheeled down the street. The money Stephanie owed Karen and the two thousand dollars she owed her father had been accumulated over her three-month stretch of unemployment. “I can hold it for a few weeks.” “No,” Stephanie shook her head, “thanks though,” and smiled, “you know that the only good thing about working again is getting paid.” The crunching sound of the credit card machine processing her purchase accompanied the realization that she had just charged a months worth of groceries and that yesterday she had fourteen dollars left in her checking account. Karen frowned, “but this job is only going to last for another six weeks.” “Mid-July,” Stephanie sighed, “don’t worry,” before wondering, “they really like me at the agency,” if Alan would call her, “and besides I really needed a new pair of shoes.”
    She walked out of the store while clutching the clear plastic bag in her left hand. “Hello there,” he removed his hands from his pockets, “I wouldn’t normally do this,” and glanced at the watch on his left wrist, “but you look very familiar,” as if he’d been expecting her, “we’ve met before,” then studied her eyes for a reassuring sign, “Haven’t we?” “No,” she shook her head, “I don’t think so,” while trying to decide if she should walk around him, “and I would have remembered,” because she hated being accosted on the street, “if we had,” though he was very handsome. He stepped toward her, “Maybe out at Montauk last August?” inadvertently blocking her path. She gave him a charitable, “that isn’t very likely,” yet dismissive smile. “I mean,” he looked fleetingly at her legs, “and this might sound