Anyone But You. Jennifer Crusie

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СКАЧАТЬ when Alex let himself into his stuffy second-floor apartment. He answered it, cradling the receiver between his shoulder and his ear as he struggled to put the window up and let a little air into the place. “Alex?”

      Great. Debbie. “Yep, it’s me.” Alex stuck his head out the window, trying for some fresh night air. The hell with it. He climbed out the window and sat on the fire escape, taking off his shoes and socks and throwing them back in through the window as he talked. “What’s up?”

      Debbie’s voice was relentlessly cheery. “I thought we might do something tomorrow since it’s your birthday. And my sister’s kids want to go to the movies, so I thought we could—”

      “Sorry,” Alex lied.

      “Alex, if you’d just try—”

      “No, really, I’m booked the whole day with my family. One after another the whole damn day.”

      “Why?” Debbie sounded frustrated. “Why can’t they see you all at once?”

      “Because they’re all trying to talk me into specializing in their areas.” Alex flexed his toes in the breeze and felt better. Maybe if he gave up wearing shoes—

      “Well, I think they’re right,” Debbie said. “If you specialized in something else, you’d make more money.”

      “I have all the money I need.” Alex stripped off his white T-shirt while she was talking, so he missed what she said next. “Give me that again?”

      “I said, you have loans to pay off. Being in debt isn’t bad for a bachelor, but what about when you want to get married and have kids?”

      Alex sighed and threw his shirt through the window. “Debbie, we’ve had this discussion. I don’t want kids.”

      “Well, not right now, but someday you’ll want a family and then—”

      “I have a family,” Alex said. “They drive me nuts. Why would I want another one?”

      “A family of your own,” Debbie said.

      “Debbie, you’re not paying attention. I don’t want kids. Ever.”

      There was a long silence on the end of the phone, and Alex realized that she’d heard him for the first time.

      “I do,” she said.

      “I know,” Alex said. “That’s why I’ve been trying to warn you. I like you a lot. I have a good time with you. But I don’t want kids. I don’t even want to get married. I’ve had family up to here. I don’t want any more.”

      “Well.” Debbie cleared her throat. “Well, all right. I guess there’s not much point in us seeing each other anymore then, is there?”

      “Not unless you just want to kick back and have a good time.” Alex knew he was supposed to be panicking at her ultimatum, but all he could dredge up was a mild willingness to try again. “We could see some movies. Talk. Just be us together for a while. Get to know each other.”

      “Alex.” Debbie’s voice was tight with controlled anger. “We’ve been dating for six weeks. We know each other. We have seen enough dumb movies and done enough talking. I want a future. I want it all.”

      “Well, I hope you get it,” Alex said cheerfully. “Good luck.”

      Debbie hung up on him.

      Alex put the phone on the windowsill and leaned back against the fire escape again, trying to decide if he was depressed that Debbie was gone. He wasn’t. In fact, the only depressing part was that he wasn’t depressed. He should be depressed. Debbie was a very nice woman, but he didn’t care at all that she was out of his life.

      He was a slime. Worse, he was turning into Max.

      Still, he’d stuck it out with Debbie for six weeks. That was pretty good. Maybe next time, he’d find a woman who was happy just to be with him, cruising through life and the video store, without a need to produce more family obligations that would make him crazier than he already was.

      There was Tricia, the little blonde in the business office. She’d asked him to dinner once, but he’d turned her down gently because of Debbie. She seemed nice. Maybe Tricia would be more interested in food and Casablanca than in planning car pools and country-club memberships. Maybe he’d call her if he lived through his birthday tomorrow without being sent to prison for strangling a family member.

      The fire escape was cutting into the muscles in his back so he sat up and stretched and crawled through the window. The couch was close enough to catch a little of the breeze. All he needed was sleep. With any luck, he’d sleep through his birthday and not have to see anybody before he went back to work on Saturday.

      LATER THAT NIGHT, Nina relaxed on her overstuffed couch with Fred heavy and warm beside her, now redolent of both the dog shampoo she’d washed him with and the Duende perfume she’d spritzed him down with on a whim. He’d been annoyed, but she’d bribed him with gourmet dog biscuits, and he was happy now, sighing in his sleep while she watched Mel Gibson blow up something on TV.

      She had the sound off so she could watch Mel without having to listen to him, and the traffic rumbled faintly outside in the May night, punctuated now and then by the sirens of the ambulances heading for Riverbend General two blocks away, reminding her that humanity was close at hand. Best of all, Fred was warm beside her, and for the first time that day, she felt secure enough to turn her full attention to her problems. With Fred around, they didn’t seem so bad.

      One problem was her job. She’d started as a secretary to Jessica Howard of Howard Press, a woman whose beige-suited exterior hid a warm heart and an appreciative spirit, and within six months Jessica had promoted her to editor. That was good. Unfortunately, she was editing memoirs of upper-class stiffs who’d never had an original thought, and collections of essays by academics on topics so obscure that even if they were original nobody cared. “Did you ever think about branching out?” she’d asked Jessica. “Into fiction? Something popular like romance novels? I hear they do very well.”

      Jessica had looked at her as though she’d suggested prostitution. “Popular fiction? Not in my lifetime. I’ll pass Howard Press on to the next generation as honorably as it was passed to me.”

      Nina had repressed the impulse to point out that the press might not survive Jessica’s lifetime. In fact, if the figures she’d seen while she’d been Jessica’s secretary were accurate, Howard Press might not survive lunch. And it was such a shame. Jessica was a good person who loved books; she should have a successful press. Unfortunately, Jessica wouldn’t have known a bestseller if it bit her.

      Nina cuddled Fred closer. “Want to write a book, Fred? That dog in the White House made a mint, and she didn’t have near your class.”

      Fred snored and twitched.

      Nina kissed the top of his sweet-smelling head. “I’ll take that as a no.”

      Her other problem was the loneliness. It had been bad this last week, being in a new place and being so lonely. She’d been lonely before in the big house, but she was used to being lonely there. Her marriage had been a series of important parties and important charities and important career moves for her husband, but after the first couple of years, СКАЧАТЬ