Erica Spindler - Cause for Alarm

Julianna sipped her soft drink, searching for her girl. Finally, she spotted her. She emerged from the building and scurried down the front steps. As if eager to catch up with her co-workers. As if afraid that if she didn't she would miss an invitation to an after hours teˆte-a`-teˆte.

She caught up with the group; none seemed to notice.

Julianna felt almost sorry for the young woman. It was pathetic, really. To be so hungry for attention. To be so obvious about it.

Julianna took another sip of her drink, studying the other woman. She didn't appear to be that much older than Julianna. She had straight, brown hair of a medium length and wore wire-rimmed glasses. She carried a briefcase in an attempt, Julianna suspected, to look like a higher-up instead of an underling. She wore ill-fitting suits, ones she had no doubt chosen to look more professional, older and smarter. Instead, they emphasized the opposite. She looked woefully out of place, like a lost little girl wearing her mother's clothes.

Pathetic, Julianna thought again. A dowdy-looking wanna-be. Wanna-be more than the secretary she was. Wanna-be liked. Accepted. Part of the group. Popular.

No doubt about it. She was the one.

For days now, Julianna had watched her. She always left the firm alone. As the others streamed around her, chatting and making plans, she kept her head down save for the surreptitious, hungry glances she sent them. Glances the others either didn't notice or chose to ignore.

Julianna laid two dollars on the table, stood and left the restaurant. She followed her girl at a comfortable distance, unconcerned with hurrying-she knew she parked her car in the lot around the corner, that she lived in an apartment in Covington, and that she spent almost every evening alone at a coffee café called Bottom of the Cup.

That's where they would become friends, Julianna had decided. Best friends. Starting tonight.

Bottom of the Cup was one of those places where singles went to meet each other, the nineties version of the pickup bar. The specialty of the house was caffeine instead of alcohol, the music folksy rather than frenetic, and smoking an absolute no-no.

It was also a place where the terminally unlikable could sit alone but hopeful without seeming too out of place or too desperate.

In the time Julianna had been tailing her girl, the closest the woman had come to meeting someone had been when a guy at the next table had asked her to pass a couple packs of sugar.

Julianna smiled. Her girl's luck was about to change. "Hi," Julianna said, stopping beside her table. "How do you like it?" The young woman looked up from her book, her expression stunned. "Are you talking to me?"

"Of course I am, silly." Julianna held up her copy of Dead Drop, purchased an hour ago and in anticipation of tonight. "I'm reading Luke Dallas's new book, too. What do you think?"

Color crept up the other woman's cheeks. "I like it a lot. Though I don't usually read this kind of fiction. I like books that are a little more substantial."

Julianna didn't have a clue what she meant by that, but smiled brightly. "Me, too. Can I join you?"

"Sure."

Julianna set down her coffee and book, then took the seat opposite the other woman. "I'm Julianna."

"I'm Sandy Derricks. It's nice to meet you."

Julianna reached for a packet of sugar and added it to her café mocha, then glanced at Sandy's cup, feigning surprise. "Look, we like the same coffee." She leaned toward her conspiratorially. "We're practically sisters. So tell me, Sis, what other books do you like to read?"

Looking embarrassed but pleased, Sandy rattled off a list of authors and books, none of whom Julianna recognized. She sipped her coffee, pretending interest, her mind running ahead to what she would say next and how she would work Nicholson, Bedico, Chaney & Ryan into the conversation.

She found her opportunity a short time later. "I really appreciate your letting me sit with you," she said. "I'm new in town and don't know anybody. I haven't even found a job yet."

"Really? I've lived here all my life. Well, not here. In New Orleans. I moved over here because of a job opportunity."

"No kidding." Julianna brought the cup of oversweet coffee to her lips. "Where do you work?"

"At a law firm. Nicholson, Bedico, Chaney & Ryan." She sat up a bit straighter, obviously proud. "I'm Chas Bedico's assistant. He's one of the partners."

Julianna widened her eyes. "Wow, lucky you. I'd kill for a job like that." She sighed with exaggerated frustration. "I sure hope I find something soon."

After that, they chatted about nothing for a long time. Finally, her coffee long gone, Julianna glanced at her watch. "I can't believe the time. I guess I'd better go." She stood. "You want to meet again tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Sandy repeated. "Me and you?"

The other woman looked so disbelieving, Julianna had to force back a smile. "Why not?" She lifted a shoulder. "What do you say we meet here, at eight o'clock? We'll talk about the book some more."

Kate sat in her office at The Bean. Though still on maternity leave, she had popped in to tally the time sheets and do payroll. On the desk in front of her lay the Tulane Alumni Association's invitation to Luke's lecture and book signing. Unbeknownst to Richard, she had dug it out of the kitchen trash. She wasn't sure why she hadn't told him. Perhaps because she had known he wouldn't understand, that he would react with unreasonable and unsubstantiated jealousy, that he would claim Luke's friendship didn't matter to him and try to intimidate her into letting it die.

But Luke's friendship did matter to her. She missed it. She missed him. She wanted the opportunity to patch things up. She wanted the opportunity to tell him how sorry she was for…everything.

She reached for the phone, thought better of it and drew her hand back. She had already called him three times, had already left three messages, the last pleading with him to meet with her and Richard when he came to town.

He'd returned none of them.

His silence was her answer. Luke didn't want her friendship. He didn't need it, or her, anymore. He didn't want her in his life, he had made that clear.

Let it go, she told herself. Let him go.

She pushed away from her desk, and crossed to Emma, asleep in her car carrier in the corner. Kate smiled, feeling lucky-not to have to choose between a job and motherhood, not to have to leave her child every day. She would have hated that, would have hated missing her smiles, her many firsts, seconds and thirds.

The way Richard did.

She thought of Richard. Since their argument over leftover pizza and Emma a couple of weeks ago, he had been away in the evenings much more than usual. But when he'd been home, to her great relief, he had doted on Emma. He seemed to finally be taking pleasure in his daughter, in being a father.

Becoming parents had been a huge adjustment for them both. Stressful. Anxiety producing. She shook her head. Even wonderful life changes caused stress. She knew that. The problem was, she'd had her eyes focused for so long on the dream of becoming a mother, the ramifications of the actual event had blindsided her.

Kate returned to her desk and the waiting time sheets. Her gaze fell once again on the invitation. As it did, her thoughts returned to Luke. Would he enjoy being a father? she wondered. She knew from the bio on his books that he was still single. Had he ever wanted to marry? Did he long to be a parent, to share his life with children, as she and Richard had?

Fat chance, she decided, smiling to herself. A big success now, brushing elbows with Hollywood, no doubt the last thing he wanted was a wife and kids. He was probably dating some twenty-year-old starlet, for heaven's sake.