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Back A Small Affair Save as PDF
Chapters (54)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. About the Author
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. Part Two
  22. 1
  23. 2
  24. 3
  25. 4
  26. 5
  27. 6
  28. 7
  29. 8
  30. 9
  31. 10
  32. 11
  33. 12
  34. 13
  35. 14
  36. 15
  37. 16
  38. 17
  39. 18
  40. 19
  41. Part Three
  42. 1
  43. 2
  44. 3
  45. 4
  46. 5
  47. 6
  48. 7
  49. 8
  50. 9
  51. 10
  52. EPILOGUE
  53. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  54. Booklist

“This came yesterday. I swear Hamano was about to tear it open and pretend she didn’t see your name very clearly written right here.” He points a red polished nail at my name and it’s dizzying. “But I snatched it from her. Anyway, I refuse to open it, because that’s a criminal offense. So I’m using it as bait for you to come down here to see moi.” He bats his lashes.

“Throw it away. I mean it.” I must sound harsher than usual because Quinn’s face softens and he lowers the envelope out of the camera’s frame.

“Okay, okay. Whatever the lady wants,” he says, trying to lighten the mood. “But please come and see me. Pleeeease. Your bestest friend in the wooorld.” He pouts again, and one stray tear trails down his cheek. Quinn has many talents and one of them is crying on command.

With the envelope out of the frame, I can finally breathe. I smile for real this time, and in a moment of gratitude, I acquiesce. “Okay. Okay. But none of our usual haunts. Bronx Botanical Gardens on Saturday.” Quinn whoops, agrees and his phone slips out of his hand, onto the hardwood floor, and for a moment all I see on his end is darkness.

5

One year ago

I was never the sort of woman to cyberstalk my boyfriends’ exes. Or really do much social media stalking in general.

I know that a lot of women, before a first date, search the person on Google, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, all the sites where one can find information in this day and age. I get it; we need to take every precaution possible as women. One friend found a date’s father’s obituary, got too drunk and asked him if he was in therapy for such an unexpected death. The date had looked at her quizzically, with confusion and then disgust, until she realized that he hadn’t mentioned that information. Needless to say, they didn’t go on a second date.

I preferred a blank slate. I wanted Tom to tell me everything I needed to know autonomously, build up my own image of him. It was more interesting to date that way, without all the preconceived notions I would have had if I searched for him online. He could show me whatever side of himself that he wanted and I would gradually fill in the blanks. Getting to know him wouldn’t be tainted by canned information.