After that, the lawyer and I had run into each other dozens of times, each time offering the same obligatory smiles. But today he was staring at me. Then he got up and started across the room toward me, a violation of our unspoken relational agreement.

At first I thought he was walking toward me, then I thought he wasn’t, which made me feel stupid, like when someone waves at you in a crowd and you’re not sure who they are, but you wave back before realizing that they were waving at someone behind you. But then there he was, this gorgeous man, standing five feet in front of me, staring at me with my mouth full of salad.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I returned, swallowing insufficiently chewed lettuce.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

I hesitated. “No, it’s okay.”

As he sat down he reached across the table. “My name is Nicholas. Nicholas Derr. You can call me Nick.”

“Hi, Nicholas,” I said, subtly refusing his offer of titular intimacy. “I’m Elise.”

“Elise,” he echoed. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“Want to see something funny?”

Before I could answer, he unfolded a piece of paper from his coat pocket, then set it on the table in front of me. “A colleague of mine just showed these to me.”

I know a guy who’s addicted to brake fluid. He says he can stop anytime.

I didn’t like my beard at first. Then it grew on me.

He pointed to the last one. “This is my favorite.”

I stayed up all night to see where the sun went. Then it dawned on me.

“Is that what you do at work?” I asked.

“Pretty much. That and computer solitaire,” he said, folding the paper back into his pocket. “How about you?”

“Candy Crush.”

“I mean, where do you work?”

“On the third floor of the tower. It’s a travel company.”

“What’s it called?”

“I.C.E.”

“Ice?”

“It stands for International Consortium of Education.”

“What kind of travel do you do?”

“We arrange educational tours for high school students to historic sites, like Colonial Williamsburg or Philadelphia or New York. Teachers sign up their classes.”

“I wouldn’t think there was a lot of travel on a teacher’s salary.”

“That’s the point,” I said. “If they get enough of their students signed up, they come along free as chaperones.”

“Ah, it’s a racket.”

“Basically. Let me guess, you’re a lawyer.”

“How could you tell?”

“You look like one. What’s your firm?”

“Derr, Nelson and McKay.”

“That’s a mouthful,” I said. “Speaking of which, do you mind if I finish eating before my salad gets cold?”

He cocked his head. “Isn’t salad supposed to be cold?”

“Not the meat. It’s sweet pork.”