Part Seven

“Ozzie, this is ridiculous,” Cat complains. She straightens out her skirt as she rises to leave his office. “I can’t do this anymore. Why aren't I credited on the report? You know how much time I spent on this project.” She waves the bound pamphlet in his direction.

“Cat, it’s not what you think,” he taps the end of his pen on his desk.

“Well, then, what is it Ozzie? I’ve been working here for almost five years, and this is the respect I get? I was Project Director on this.” She places her hands on her hips.

“I know, I know. Cat, I can assure you this is a simply clerical error. It was not done on purpose.” He lifts the phone and calls his assistant into the office. Carol, a young eager girl of twenty-three instantly appears in his large corner office.

“Yes, Mr. Bloom,” she smiles at him ignoring Cat.

“We need to re-print fifty copies of this report.” He looks at Cat, “somehow Ms. Green’s name was left off the list of contributors. She should be listed as Project Director.”

“No problem, Mr. Bloom. Will that be all?” She waits for his response.

“Yes, that’s all Carol.” She turns to leave the room.

“Thanks Ozzie,” Cat leaves not satisfied with his excuse. She worries that he left her name off on purpose, and if she knows Oz at all, she knows that is exactly what happened. She’s glad that she bothered to leaf through the report before their meeting later that afternoon.

She sits at her neat cubicle and re-types that notes she made on the report. She thinks typing them again will help her to remember her points later, and hopefully she won’t have to rely too heavily on her notes. She knows the material, she knows the research, she just doesn’t want her nerves to get in her way. Cat doesn’t know why she’s more nervous about this meeting with Mary than she has been about the dozens of other meetings she’s been in with the CEO. Maybe it’s because she really believes in this project. She knows she can get a younger audience interested in Mary’s brand, and Cat thinks she knows exactly how to reach them.

She’s distracted by the mail boy who has a package for her. She puts the skirts she ordered beneath her desk for later. She checks her email. Still nothing from Nick. She hasn’t heard from him in three days. Cat wonders if his absence is the heart of her problem, she feels so much better when she can talk to him about stuff. He always knows just what to say to her. Cat clicks refresh again, but nothing pops up.

“Hello,” Mark leans over her desk.

“Oh hey,” she quickly closes her personal email, “how are you,” she turns around to greet him.

“Whatcha trying to hide?” he points to the screen.

“Oh nothing, just my email.” She pouts.

“How’s Nick?” Mark grins.

“I guess he’s fine,” Cat shrugs.

“What’s wrong, Cat?”

“I haven’t heard from him in three days. I’m worried I said something that offended him.” She confesses.

“ Wrote,” Mark says.

“Huh?”

“Wrote something that offended him, you still haven’t spoken to him, right?” Mark corrects her.

‘Shut up Mark, no I haven’t spoken to him. Ok, ok, but I still haven’t heard from him.” Mark put his hands on her shoulders.

“He’s probably just busy. Are you sure it’s a good idea to be so worried about some guy you haven’t even talked to? I’m worried about how attached you are to Nick.” He gives her a squeeze.

“Mark, I don’t need this right now. I know that you don’t approve of our friendship, but I really like him. I’m having a shitty day, alright. And I’ve got a meeting with Mary later, remember.” She pleads with him.

“Ok, I’m sorry. Don’t worry about Nick. Focus on your meeting. You’ll do great. And we’re still meeting for drinks later, right?” He smiles at her.

“Yes, I’ll see you after work. Now leave me alone. I’ve got to concentrate.” She shoos him away.

“Stop checking your email,” Mark says as he steps into the elevator down the hall.

Cat resists the urge to show him her middle finger. She works through lunch, but knows not eating is a mistake because she is starving at 3:00 p.m. when the meeting begins. Ozzie does not assign her a seat at the conference table and she is forced to sit in the chairs that line the edge of the room with the executive assistants. She notes that her name does now appear on the front page of the report. Maybe she shouldn’t be sitting at the table, Cat thinks as she scans the VPs who surround Oz.

Mary comes in and takes a seat the head of the table. In a moment the shades are drawn and the video presentation begins. Cat watches the video she’s seen hundreds of time and mindlessly mouths the words along with the young women on screen. She wrote the script, the questionnaires and found the young women willing to participate. As the credits roll the lights came back on. Ozzie opens his mouth to begin a discussion but Mary cuts him off.

“Where did you find those young women, Ozzie. They seem like exactly what we are looking for.” Every head in the room turns toward Oz.

“Well, my assistants,” he begins. Cat is certain he has no idea where she found them and she isn’t about to let this project fall through the cracks because of Oz’s incompetence.

“We asked the women under thirty-five in our office to give us a list of their friends who are on a budget but like to entertain and strive for the Mary Stouffer lifestyle,” all eyes are on her now, “ we contacted those women and asked them to give us lists of their friends and so on. We brought the women who were willing to participate together and did several focus groups and personal interviews to best determine exactly what they want from us. We used that information to determine what Mary Stouffer can do to become what these women need and want without compromising our original model.” Cat stops. Ozzie’s face is twisted into a grimace. She shouldn’t have spoken out, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Oz, why is this woman doing your job?” Mary spits at him.

“She’s the Project Director, Cat Green,” He points at her.

“Well perhaps Cat should take a seat at the table if she is going to make the presentation instead of you. Unless of course you’d like to step in and say something,” Mary asks Oz.

“No, no that’s fine. Here Cat,” he scoots toward the VP next to him, and the entire table rotates to make room for her. Cat can feel her face flush, but she is determined to finish her presentation. She knows she can do a better job than Oz.

“Thank you Mary, Oz,” she begins, “I think this is such a great opportunity for Mary Stouffer to reach a younger audience,” she says as the first image appears on the screen. Her confidence is grows with each word and by the time she concludes she feels like she hit a home run. By the time she gets back to her desk after shaking hands with most of the VPs in the meeting, it is past 6:00 p.m. She jumps in the elevator and rushes to meet Mark, who is waiting patiently in his office.

“Well,” he says.

“Well,” she tries to hide her excitement, “it was amazing!”

“I knew it!” He jumps up to hug her. “Go grab your bag. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

She runs up the stairs back to her cube, turns off her computer and grabs her purse before Oz can corner her. She knows he must be furious with her, but right now she doesn’t care.

Mark is standing outside the building talking on his phone. He smiles when Cat walks through the door. They walk a block to the subway and get on the F train going downtown. When they finally reach the Brodway/Lafayette stop Cats heart has stopped racing. She can’t stop telling Mark about the meeting, how Mary personally invited her to sit at the table and how she could feel Oz planning her early retirement. A light rain began to fall and they dashed down Crosby Street into a large French restaurant that looked like it belonged in Epcot Center. She knew the bar had only opened in the late nineties, and that any semblance to a French bistro was manufactured but she couldn’t help but love it, the soft lighting and the lush French accents drew her in each time she walked through the front door. Mark pushes his way past the throng of tourists to his best friend Pierre, who sits at the bar.

“Hello, hello,” Pierre says as he kisses Cats cheeks. He removes bag from the stool next to him and Cat sits down. She drinks glass after glass of champagne as she, Mark and Pierre laugh and talk.

By the time she leaves she is drunk. Cat managed to drink her dinner and her head spins as Mark stuffs her into a taxi. She somehow manages to toss some wadded up bills at the driver before stumbling out of the door in front of her building. She stands in front of her mail box digging in her purse for her mail key. Cat doesn’t hear the door open.

“You ok?” She does not respond. “Cat?”

“Oh, hey,” she turns around, “Hi Dave,” she puts her hand on his shoulder.

“Everything ok?” He smiles at her.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” she leans in toward him, “I yust got home from meeting out with my friends.” She brushes her hair behind her ear.

“Meeting out with your friends?” He teases her.

“Hanging out, thatswhatIsaid.” She turns to walk upstairs. Cat takes makes it up three stairs before stumbling backwards. Dave reaches out and pushes her forward.

“Come on just a few more steps.” She can hear him laughing.

In the morning when Cat wakes up she looks around the room and wonders where she is. Her eyes recognize a plastic bottle of water and her purse on the floor. She rolls over on the sofa and wonders how she ended up in her living room. Her head throbs and she’s thankful it is Saturday. She lifts two tablets of ibuprofen off the table and pops them in her mouth. Cat is pleased she was at least thoughtful enough to lay out Advil for the morning until she sees the note.

Cat–I hope you feel ok. You passed out before I could get you into your bedroom. Take the Advil! –Dave

“I am such an idiot!” Cat says out loud and closes her eyes before drifting back into sleep. She jolts upright and turns to see the computer on the floor. Her heart races, oh no, oh no, oh no.

Part Six

They string Christmas lights across his back porch as Beyonce blares in the background. Cat can’t help but dance around. Mark mixes batches of his famous rum punch, which she’ll have to stay away from if she doesn’t want to ruin her shorts. Mark and Cat take a seat at his patio table, sip their cocktails, and admire a job well done. Friends begin to stream through the door and she can’t believe how good everyone looks. She’s pleased by the dress code’s loose interpretation—there are pretty Cape Cod boaters, cranky old fishermen, and even a few pirates. Cat thinks Hallie’s outfit takes the cake and even though she’d seen it that morning she was amazed at how it had all come together. Mark whistles as she walks into the back yard. He lifts her arm and forces her to spin.

“Let me guess,” he says as he looks over her gold sequin tee-shirt dress, high heels, and her eye-patch. Her make-up sparkles.

“I give up,” he says after a minute.

“I’m the sunken treasure,” Hallie says laughing.

“Perfect,” Mark says and shoves a glass of punch into her hand.

Cat loves the party. She can’t remember when she last had such fun. The promise of summer looms above with the dark dusky sky. It fills her with hope. She steps into the kitchen to refill her beer and she sees Dave walk through the door. She smiles. He’s wearing a double breasted terry cloth blazer, seersucker swim trunks and topsiders. He looks around the room and she knows he’s hoping to find her. She waves.

“Hi,” she shouts over the music. She hands him a beer. “You look amazing. You’re outfit is hysterical!” Before he could respond Mark was behind him rubbing his shoulder.

“Is that a terry cloth blazer,” she can see the envy in Mark’s eye.

“Double breasted,” Dave says proudly as he turns around.

“Oh my God, Pepe,” Mark yelled for his friend, “Excuse me, honey, I need to borrow him.” Mark said as he led Dave away from her. When Cat makes her back outside an hour later Dave is surrounded by a small crowd.

“Do you know that guy?” Hallie asks, her eye-patch resting on her forehead.

“Yes, that’s my neighbor!”

“The snorer?” She crinkles her nose. She can’t believe it.

“Yes!”

“Oh my god, he’s hysterical. He’s totally become the life of the party. Holy shit I almost peed my pants listening to his stories before.” Cat looks in Dave’s direction. A wide circle of laughing people surrounds him and it takes a minute for her to catch his eye. He excuses himself and joins Hallie and Cat.

“Hey Dave, this is my friend Hallie, have you met?” Cat points to Hallie.

“No, hey, I don’t think so.” Cat knows Hallie can take it from here. She goes off to find Mark leaving Hallie and Dave to chat. After what felt like thirty minutes Cat glanced at her watch only to find hours had passed. She felt like Cinderella, she needed to get home before her outfit turned to dust, or just got dirty in her case. Her feet hurt and she was ready for bed. She took a lap around the party looking for Hallie and Dave, but neither was anywhere to be found. Cat kissed Mark and left the party.

In the cab on the way home she feels so proud of herself. She always knew she’d be a great matchmaker. She throws her party clothes in a pile on the floor; she won’t need them again until next summer. She pours a big glass of water, brushes her teeth, washes her face and climbs in to bed. The computer is hot but she doesn't mind.

You around?

Yeah, how are you? How was your night?

It was great. I think I set my friend up with a great guy! I always knew I’d make a great matchmaker.

Cool. How was the party?

And again she fell asleep with Nick.

Part Five

In the morning she wakes fresh after the best night’s sleep she’s had in years. She slowly moves into the kitchen and makes coffee. She settles into the couch and flips of the television. For a few minutes she manages to avoid the computer before she checks her messages. She knows there won’t be one from Nick, but she can’t help herself. She feels so much better after their exchange last night. She feels like they really connect. The snoring starts upstairs.

“Jesus, can’t he snore when I’m asleep,” but she’s not really annoyed. She smiles at poor Dave through the ceiling. She stretches and relaxes into the sofa. Her phone rings.

“Ok, so I let you ditch me last night, but today I need your help,” Hals starts in before she’s even said hello.

“Ok, what is it,” Cat looks at her finger nails.

“I need something to wear tonight,” a siren wailed in the background.

“Where are you? Are you walking around?”

“Yes, I’ll be at your building in five minutes, so get dressed.”

“Oh, alright,” Cat sighs.

“I have coffee,” Hallie offers.

“I have coffee too,” Cat teases.

“I have better coffee.”

“I know you do,’ Cat hangs up. Hallie is known for her taste in coffee. She’ll take the subway and two buses if it means the perfect espresso. The buzzer rings. Cat leaves the front door ajar while she changes out of her pajamas. She throws on a pair of shorts and a light t-shirt.

“Hey,” Hallie shouts from the foyer, “thanks so much for helping me today. I’m at a total loss.” She passes Cat a warm cup of coffee and kisses her cheek.

“No problem,” Cat smiles.

“Don’t you mean, I owe you after I ditched you at the last minute last night?” Hallie pouts.

“Ouch. I guess I deserve that. I said I was sorry, I just didn’t feel like going out.” Cat puts down her coffee.

“Oh my god, what is that noise,” Hallie looks around the apartment.

“It’s my neighbor–snoring! Can you believe that?” They are both silent for a moment and the loud breathing fills the room.

“Which neighbor,” Hallie tries to stifle her laughter.

“Right upstairs from me, can you believe how loud it is? You might like him actually, he’s cute and nice, new to New York. Oooh I think I’ll invite him tonight,” a deafening snortle cut her off. “You can only hear it in here. Come here.” They walk into the bedroom and the noise miraculously disappears.

“At least you can sleep in peace,” her eyes drifted to Cat’s outfit hanging on the closet door, “oh crap, we better get shopping. This is amazing.”

Cat held up the short white shorts, a navy and white striped shirt and a red hankercheif, “it is a boating themed party. I’ve even got docksiders. I think it looks like I was boating in Antibes or some place in France.”

“It looks like something Freddie Mercury would wear,” Hallie laughs, ‘it’s hot. Some how boating and hot do not go together in my mind. Let’s go. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Four hours later, exhausted and hot, they sit down for lunch. The girls laugh and talk and Cat accidently brings up Nick.

“Cat, you need to get grip,” Hallie reprimands her, “have you even spoken to him?’

“No,” Cat won’t meet her eyes, “not yet, but we will I’m sure,” she picks at her napkin.

“Uh huh, what other relationship do you have where you don’t even actually speak to the person, huh,” Hallie waits for an answer, “that’s what I thought. None.”

“Ok, ok, point taken. It’s just a guilty pleasure,” it was really, she knew that. But she had let it become something else, Nick was filling too many of her thoughts, and even Cat knew it wasn’t healthy.

“I’m not trying to beat you up, honey,” Hallie says sweetly, “I just don’t want you to drift off in to imaginary land. I like having you here.” They hug after lunch and Hallie disappears down the street.

Cat runs upstairs and jumps into the shower. She’s looking forward to Mark’s party. She said she’d be there early to help set up and she can’t wait to get going. She pauses to look over her thin shape in the mirror. Her outfit does look hot. She trots up the stairs with a post-it with Mark’s address and her phone number. She considers inviting Dave her good deed for the day.

She grabs a cab and heads across town. Mark has a great ground floor apartment with a small backyard. She knows he’s going to love her outfit. He greets her at the door with a captain’s hat and a martini.

“Where’s the pipe,” she laughs.

“Well get a look at you, damn girl.” She twirls around before embracing him.

“I’m happy to see you too,” he laughs.

“I love you,” she smiles, “you’re the best!” He smiles at her.

“All aboard, honey,” and she walks through the door.

Part Four

“Cat, are you listening to me?” Hallie says impatiently.

“Uh huh, yeah, yeah, sounds great.” Cat says lost in her computer.

“Oh my god, Cat! Get off the computer.” Cat’s head bounces up.

“Sorry, Hals, I was just looking for something.”

“Let me guess? A message from Nick?”

“No, no, of course not,” Cat lies.

“Whatever.” Hallie says annoyed. “So what time do you want to meet up?”

“Oh no,” Cat had forgotten her dinner plans with Hallie. She didn’t want to go. “Hal will you kill me if I cancel? I’m beat and we’ve got Mark’s big party tomorrow.” She could hear Hallie rolling her eyes.

“As long as you aren’t staying home to wait for an email from your fake boyfriend, who you never even speak to.” Hallie chides her.

“I’m not, don’t worry,” Cat says as she glances at her computer. She gets off the phone and jumps into the shower. She takes her time washing her hair and waits to get out of the bathroom. She can’t stop herself from making a b-line for the computer. Still nothing.

Cat opens a bottle of wine and begins getting dinner ready. Her wet hair leaves the collar of her shirt damp, and it feels cool against the warm night air. The windows are open and she can hear the sounds of the street floating up through her apartment. She slowly eats her dinner and then retires to the sofa. It is too early to go to bed. She checks her facebook account obsessively until finally putting the computer away. I’m sure he’s busy, she tells herself. She hears teenagers laughing on the street and is suddenly antsy. She needs to move. Cat grabs her purse and runs out the door. The streets are busy, crawling with people desperate to be outside. The warm weather makes everyone crazy. Fewer clothes and more daylight are excuses to stay out late and misbehave. She watches a couple walk together in front of her until they duck into a doorway to kiss.

She is jealous.

She hurries past them, not wanting to get trapped behind them again. In the bodega she buys a six pack of cold beer and a lime. If she doesn’t have a boyfriend at least she has alcohol she thinks. A warm breeze escorts her home.

As she fumbles to manage the beer and her purse she hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Hey neighbor,” Dave says. His flip flops and shorts match his demeanor.

“Oh, hey, Dave,” she tries to wave hello but can’t balance everything. He reaches to take the beer from her hand and she digs inside her purse to find the keys, “thanks. I don’t know why I try to carry this big bag around.”

“This beer feels great. It’s so warm out tonight.” He takes one out and pretends to drink it, “what are you up to tonight? I’m sure you’ve got tons of parties to run out to.”

“Actually, no, not tonight. I was just going to have a beer and enjoy a quiet Friday night,” he’s going to invite himself in, I know it, she thought. But he didn’t. He handed her the beer after she got the door open.

“Have a nice night,” he says and heads up the stairs.

Crap, she thinks. I should be nicer. “Dave,” she yells.

‘Yeah,” he appears on the stairs.

“Want to come in for a beer?” she smiles and waves the six pack at him.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says as he hurries into her apartment, ‘hey great place, it looks almost the same as mine, except I have two bedrooms.”

“Do you have a roommate,” she asks. She wants to get to the bottom of the snoring.

“No, no, not right now I don’t.” He takes a long swig of his beer. The computer catches her eye and she is desperate to check it. “So, how long have you been in New York,” he asks.

“About eight years,” she says giving him only half of her attention, “I moved her after college.” Get it together. Be polite, she tells herself.

“Do you like it here?”

“I do,” she finally looks at him, “but it takes a while to adjust to life, I think. Or at least it did for me. You’ll get used to it.”

“I hope so,” he says, “it just feels kind of lonely. I guess I’m used to having a lot of people around. I lived in Chicago my whole life.”

“What brought you out here? Work?” she asks.

“Kind of,” he pauses, “basically. So where’s a good place to eat in the neighborhood?” He changed the subject.

“There are tons of places. It’s a great neighborhood.” He was cute, she thought, and nice. She wonders which of her friends would like him.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” he asks.

As soon as he is up off the sofa she grabs the computer. She logs into her account and finally there it is.

I’m so so sorry I didn’t respond sooner. Oh my god, what a day…

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” she had no idea how long he was standing there.

“Sorry, just something for work,” she lies.

“Well don’t let me keep you. Thanks for the beer.” Dave waves as he lets himself out.

Cat gratefully turns her attention back to the computer.

You won’t believe my neighbor. He just totally invited himself over for a beer and he’s back upstairs for three minutes and he starts SNORING!!! I don’t know what is wrong with him.

She feels a little bad talking about Dave, but it is weird, and they aren’t friends.

Ha ha! My boss is such a jerk…

She falls asleep with the computer in her bed.

Part Three

Cat is disappointed when Nick only sends two messages a day, and although she knows this is silly she can't stop her feelings. Of course he has other things to do, what kind of loser sits around emailing all day when he could be outside enjoying the weather. She looks out the window across from her cube and sees people walking in the park outside. She checks her watch and goes to collect Mark. They grab lunch and find a seat in the park.

“So Kitty Cat,” Mark starts, “what are you wearing tomorrow night?” It was their annual Welcome to Summer party at Mark’s apartment and she was expected to wear something fabulous. Cat didn’t really feel like a party at the moment, but she knew that would change.

“I’ve got a new dress, or maybe some shorts.” She takes a bite of her salad.

“Shorts?” Mark asks with a disapproving look on his face.

“Short shorts,” she says with a mouth full of lettuce and they burst into laughter. It is a stupid joke, but once she starts laughing she can't stop and Mark's snorting makes it even easier to giggle. She rolls back into the grass and laughs until her stomach hurt. Other people in the park turn to see what was wrong with them but Cat and Mark just keep laughing. When they walk back into the office she can still feel the sun on her skin and she isn’t sorry to be at work, for once. Cat loves her job, she loves the work, but she hates the politics. She doesn’t know how to make it in her office without the politics. She sits down at her desk ready to tackle the stack of messages when she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns around to see Mary standing behind her.

“Oh, hello, Mary,” she rises to greet her.

“Hello, Ms. Green.” Cat can barely control her growing smile. Mary’s never addressed her by her name, without prompting, before.

“How can I help you,” Cat asks eager to please her.

“Do you ride,” Mary asks.

“Horses,” Cat’s confused. Mary nods.

“No, no I haven’t ridden since I was a little girl.” Cat shakes her head.

“I would have guessed differently,” Mary says. Cat wonders if it’s her clothes or if she simply carries herself like a horseback rider. She takes it as a compliment and is about to respond when Mary said, “You look like you’ve just crawled out of a barn.” Mary disappears down the long hall and Cat reaches up to feel the grass that is stuck to the back of her dress. She puts her face in her hands as she sinks into her seat.

You’ll never guess what just happened to me.

As she waits for Nick’s response she begins to return the phone messages on her desk. After speaking with three of her favorite clients Mary’s sharp comments slide further down her back until only faint traces of their sting remain. When Mark waves goodnight she can’t believe the day is over. Finally the weekend. It isn’t until she gets home that she realizes Nick never wrote her back. She drops her bags in the hallway and quickly turns on the computer. Nothing.

“Oh my god! Who sleeps that much,” she shouts at the ceiling. The snoring starts again. She stomps her feet and closes the computer. Cat puts on her running shorts and jumps outside the front door. A breeze picks up by the river and she moves quickly past the piers. A large sailboat passes her and she’s jealous of the passengers. She wonders what wonderful weekend they have planned. She passes people walking their dogs and she notices a small golden puppy that playfully nips at his owners heels. The sun and wind mix in the air to create a perfect temperature. She is content. As she rounds a corner a few blocks from her apartment she slows to a jog. An hour in the sun has done her good and she’s ready for the weekend. She stops in the small bodega on her corner for a large cold bottle of water. She greedily drinks as she walks toward her building. In the corner of her eye she sees a man close behind her. She thinks she can feel his steps moving close. She moves out of the way and lets him pass. He looks perfectly harmless, his floppy brown hair wet with sweat and his ears plugged with music. He smiles at her, but she does not respond.

She stops to drink more water and she sees the man run up her stoop. Her heart begins to pound. She’s never seen him before. She wonders if she should return to the bodega and wait, but decides she’s being silly and proceeds to her building. He’s in the lobby by the mailboxes as she begins up the stairs.

“Beautiful day for a run,” he says as she’s halfway up the first flight. She stops.

“Sure is,” she waits for a reply. He says nothing. She can hear the music from his ear phones. When she reaches the second floor she turns to the door of her apartment. His footsteps are approaching.

“Hey,” he says, “I’m right above you.”

She turns to face him. “Hmm,’ she says as a way of agreeing and nods her head.

“I’m Dave,” he wipes his sweaty hand on his shorts before offering it to her.

“Cat,” she says.

“I hope I’m not too loud,” he laughs nervously, “I just moved in a couple of months ago. I got transferred out here from Chicago.”

She can tell he wants to talk but she’s not in the mood. She wants to get in the shower and check if Nick’s written back.

“Well, nice to meet you,” she says as the key turns in her lock.

“Ok, see you around,” he says walking away but still facing her.

She shuts the door and walks quickly to the computer. She plays a game with herself, if I don’t look he’ll write, if I look he won’t write, she walks away from the machine and into the kitchen before rushing back to the sofa. She throws the computer open and logs in.

The snoring starts again. Cat looks up from the computer. “What the…” she mouths and looks around her apartment. “Am I on candid camera? Didn’t that man just get home from a run?”

Her phone rings.

“Hello,” she answers.

“Hey sweetie,” Hallie says.

“Oh hey Hals. How are you?” Cat tries to balance the phone on her shoulder while she searches through Nick’s last messages. Nothing new. She starts to wonder if she said something to offend him.

Part Two

A few weeks pass and Cat and Nick are still sending messages back and forth. Every morning before work she logs on to her Facebook account hoping to get a message from him, and to her disbelief more often than not its there. She sneaks away at lunch and runs to the gym. While she’s on the treadmill she listens to songs she hasn’t heard since college and can’t wait to tell Nick. Her friends tease her about her Facebook “boyfriend” but she doesn’t mind. She shrugs off their jokes because she really likes talking to him. Well, they haven’t talked but they send messages back and forth all day long, and it feels like their having a conversation. She hurries back to work after the gym, her hair still wet from her post-work out shower. She sees the post-it on her computer and rolls her eyes wondering what her boss Ozzie wants.

See me immediately!

She wads up the post-it and throws it in the trash. Cat grabs a note pad and a pen and hurries down the hall to Ozzie’s oversized office. He’s on the phone and motions for her to sit down with his finger, but does not get off the phone. He talks for five more minutes while she patiently waits. In her mind she’s composing a message to Nick.

He’s such a self important jerk. You should see the clothes he makes his secretary take to the dry cleaners. I think he changes the labels on his pants so no one knows his real size.

It takes a moment for Cat to realize Ozzie is speaking to her. She tilts her head to the side and tries to catch up with the conversation, he obviously has no idea she’s missed any of it. A slight chill hits her back and she knows Mary’s entered the room. She’s had more than fifty meetings with Mary, but Mary still behaves as though she has no idea who Cat is, or what she does for her company. Oh no, my hair! Cat knows Mary won’t like that it’s wet.

“Just getting to work, now, are we,” Mary says as she sits down next to Cat, “I’m Mary Stouffer, how do you do.” She offers her slender hand to Cat.

“I’m Cat Green, Mrs. Stouffer, I work in new media, we’ve met before.”

Mary nods,” nice to see you.” She turns her attention to Ozzie. “So Oz,” she holds the z in her mouth like a piece of candy, “when did your employees start coming to work with wet hair?”

“I’m sorry, I just rushed back from the gym,” Cat offers but Mary holds a hand up in her direction.

“Mary,” he begins, “we’ve got this great new page on our website and it’s attracting tons of visitors. I wanted to bring it to your attention. We’ve successfully integrated a few big advertisers into the page and I wanted to give you an update,” he tugged at his expensive cuff waiting for Mary’s praise.

“How did you come up with this idea Oz?” Mary asks.

“I did a ton of research and with the help of our team, Cat here included,” Oz points at her, “ we decided to try and bring the young working woman into the Mary Stouffer universe. I thought it would be a great way to introduce them to our products,” he does not miss a beat or blink an eye. Cat thinks she might cry. It had been her idea; and her hard work over the last six months that had built the new section of the website. Ozzie had nothing to do with it and here he was taking all the credit.

“What do you think of it, Ms. Green, you seem to be pretty close to our target demographic,” Mary looks down at Cat’s shoes and examines her closely until she reaches her face.

Cat clears her throat, “I think this is the best tool we have to reach younger consumers,” she began and spends the next ten minutes explaining each piece of her plan to Mary.

When she finishes Mary turns to Ozzie and congratulates him on a job well done and then she leaves. Cat can hardly bring herself to look at Ozzie. When she finally raises her eyes he isn’t even looking at her, he’s lost in a sea of emails. She shows herself out.

Mark is waiting at her desk, “so,” he asks.

“I hate him,” she says. They sneak downstairs for a coffee and she tells him everything. Cat cries on the walk home. She feels sorry for herself as she eats dinner alone with a glass of wine. It isn’t until a message pops up from Nick that the work day begins to leave her.

I had the worst day

She waits for his response.

Tell me about it

She relishes his attention and lets her bad day float away on a cloud of his jokes.

High Speed

A thirty year-old woman dressed in a cute skirt and sweater stands outside her apartment building trying to hail a taxi. Her hair is half styled, but wet in the back and she runs her free hand through her curls. Cat cranes her neck to look down the street and sighs heavily before turning to walk toward the avenue.

When she finally arrives at the office the place is buzzing. She works for the leading lifestyle guru, Mary Stouffer, the consummate entertainer, wife, gardener and cook. She sets down her bags (a purse and one for the gym) and rushes into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. She waves hello to her co-workers and walks quickly into a meeting. Cat sits next to her work husband, Mark, and he squeezes her knee beneath the table before their boss begins to speak. The day races by–she works hard and she’s good at her job. We know this, of course. The sun has set by the time she leaves work and once again she is on the street looking for a cab. In the back of the taxi she texts her friends and checks for late work emails on her blackberry. She has to sift through her purse to find her wallet to pay the driver. The girls laugh and drink through dinner talking about their lives and also about facebook. No one can believe Cat doesn’t have it on her blackberry.

After a fun dinner with friends she is back at her small apartment seated on the sofa with a glass of wine. The TV and her computer are on. Her work clothes are gone and she’s in a pair of comfortable pajamas. A new message comes up on her Facebook page.

“Oh my god,” she can’t believe it. Her boyfriend from freshman year in college. She texts her friend, Hallie, to see what she thinks. Hallie says friend him, who cares it’s just online. She opens a reply and takes a sip of wine. She wants to sound witty but fun and isn’t sure where to begin. She looks at his picture again and instantly remembers the tattered t-shirts he wore all freshman year. Hi, she finally begins. A loud snoring interrupts her concentration and she looks toward the ceiling.

“Oh god, not again,” she takes a sip of wine and patiently waits for the next loud snore. It fades into the background and she turns again to her computer and to Nick.

–How are you? It’s great to hear from you. Where are you now?—she can see where he is, it’s on his homepage, but it feels ok to ask–I’m in New York. I work for Mary Stouffer. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe. I was such a slob in college. Hope you’re doing well.

Cat hits send and smiles. Ten seconds later a reply appears.

Great to hear from you! Glad to hear you’re doing well. I’m in Boston working in a law firm. Long hours and a lot of grief, but I don’t hate it yet.

She wants to respond immediately but doesn’t want to seem over eager. Her heart beats a little faster and she considered shutting down the computer. Instead she replies.

I always thought you’d end up a lawyer in DC. How’s your family? What have you been up to for the last ten years?

She takes a big swig of her wine and looks at her empty glass trying to decide whether a refill is acceptable. The clock reads almost 11:00 p.m. and she knows she should get to bed, but what the hell, she thinks, I deserve a little excitement. They send messages back and forth for the next two hours. She laughs aloud on her sofa as she read the tales of his early twenties. Why didn’t we work out? She wonders. When he finally signs off for the night she breathes a sigh of relief. At least she can get to bed now. She puts the empty bottle of wine in the recycling and falls asleep with a smile on her purple wine stained lips.

I love Lifetime!

This is a tv movie/story for my sister.