"Hi, Sujen," I said.

"Oh, hi, David."

I was surprised she remembered my name.

"Did you fax Robert Lipton my article?"

I could tell she was nervous.

"Yes," she said, "but only because he said I should."

"Weren't you told not to do that?"

"Yes," she said, "but he said he spoke with you and»

"In the future could you try not to do that?" I said. "I mean, it's no big deal, but in the future just check the quotes, okay?"

"I'm so sorry, David. He swore to me he spoke to you and you okayed it. You weren't around, so I just faxed it to him. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," I said. "Just don't do it again, please."

I headed back toward my cubicle, feeling like a wimp. Sujen was a bright girl and she should've known better than to fax that article.

Anyone else would've given her hell for it.

Sitting at my desk, I was checking my e-mail messages when Angie entered.

"Did you hear?" she said in a gossipy tone. Then she whispered,

"Peter was fired."

"I heard," I said. I didn't feel like having this conversation.

"So it's official you're the new associate editor."

"I guess so."

"That's so unbelievable."

"I know."

"How come you're not more excited?"

"I am."

"This is so great. I'll have a normal person editing my stories now not some pseudo-British freak. Do you want to go to lunch to celebrate?"

"I can't" I said. "I'm meeting my aunt."

Angie looked at me as if she thought I might be lying, and then she said, "That's cool I guess we'll do lunch some other time. Maybe Monday."

"Sounds like a plan."

Angie started to leave; then she turned back and said, "I just wanted to say sorry for yesterday."

"Sorry for what?" I said.

"I shouldn't've butted in."

"Come on," I said, "you didn't»

"No, it was wrong," she said. "I just got a little concerned, that's all, but I should've kept my mouth shut. I just hope you're not mad at me."

"Why would I be mad?"

"I felt bad about it all night."

"Stop it," I said.

Angie smiled, looking especially cute, then said, "Stop by later and say hi?"

"I will," I said, and then I watched her leave.

I was glad that things seemed smoothed over between Angie and me, but now I was even more frustrated that I couldn't ask her out.

To distract myself, I made some calls about the story I was doing on Prime Net Solutions, a Silicon Alley DSL company. The company had recently downsized its operations and had a questionable financial position, but their subscriptions were soaring, thanks to outstanding customer service and competitive price points along its entire product line. Deciding that the article would definitely have a positive spin, I conducted a phone interview with the company's CFO and scheduled calls with several analysts who I knew were familiar with the DSL industry.

At twenty to twelve, I left the office and took the subway downtown to Thirty-fourth, then walked back up a few blocks to the Garment District. My aunt Helen worked in one of the bleak, prewar, industrial-looking buildings on Thirty-seventh Street between Seventh and Eighth Avenue. I took the rickety elevator up to the sixth floor and rang the doorbell to her office.

A young gay guy greeted me, and then Helen came over and hugged me. She was sixty-three, but except for some deepened wrinkles she looked the same to me as she always had. Her short, curly hair had been dyed the same shade of maroon for years, and she was still about twenty pounds overweight. She always seemed to be cheerful and optimistic no matter what was going on in her life. I wished I had some of that quality.

"It's so good to see you, David," she said.

Her raspy, Joan Rivers-like voice reminded me of the way Barbara could impersonate her so perfectly.

"What's so funny?" Helen asked.

"Nothing," I said. "It's good to see you too."

Helen introduced me to several people in her office, and then she reached into a big box of ugly brown winter jackets and asked me if I needed a medium or a large.

"It's all right," I said. "I just bought a new jacket last winter."

"So?" she said. "You'll need a new one next winter. Just take one."

"It's okay," I said. "My closet's so crowded I really have to start throwing things out."

"I'm gonna get you to take a free jacket one of these years," she said, smiling.

We rode back down in the elevator and left the building.

"What do you want for lunch?" she asked. "Chinese, Italian, Japanese it's on me."

"No, I'm taking you out."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "I haven't seen you in ages. This is my treat."

I suggested that we go to wherever was closest, so we went to a Chinese place near Eighth Avenue. As we were looking at our menus we caught up on each other's lives. She was considering selling her house and moving into a condo closer to the city, and she and a few friends had recently had a great time on a Carnival cruise to Nova Scotia. She asked me about Rebecca she'd never met her, but they'd spoken on the phone a couple of times and I told her that Rebecca was fine and everything was great. Then I told her that I needed a favor.

"Anything for you, David."

"Something's come up and I need to borrow some money," I said. "It's not much, and I promise I'll pay you back."

"Of course," she said tentatively. "How much do you need?"

"A thousand dollars."

She hesitated then said, "Okay, I can lend you a thousand dollars."

"Thank you," I said. "I'll give you the money back in a few weeks. I promise."

"How's your job going?"

"My job's fine. I'm getting a promotion, actually."

"That's great. Congratulations."

She was looking at me, confused, waiting for me to tell her why I needed the money.

"I just got into a little situation," I said. "I got in over my head with something, but it's going to be fine."

"Is it drugs?"

I laughed. "No, of course not."

"Because I remember in high school you had that pot problem»

"I didn't have a pot problem," I said. "I smoked less pot than half the kids in my class, but, to answer your question, no, the money isn't for drugs I swear to God."

"I trust you, David, but if you're in some kind of trouble»

"It's nothing like that," I said. "It's just for something… personal."

"Is Rebecca pregnant?"

"No, of course not»

"Because if she is, I'd understand»

"She isn't pregnant," I said. "Someday I'll tell you all about what's going on I promise. I just can't tell you about it now. I hope you can understand that."

Of course, I had no intention of ever telling her anything about what was going on, but I couldn't think of any better way to stop her probing.

"Fine," she said, "we can go to a cash machine after lunch."

"A thousand may be over the ATM's limit. Can we withdraw the money instead?"

Sensing the desperation in my voice, Helen gave me a long stare.

"Yes, we can do that if you want," she said.

The waiter came over and took our orders. I welcomed the distraction, and when he left I changed the subject, asking Helen if she was planning to retire.

"Me, retire?" she said. "What would I do without work?"

"You could move to Florida with your sister, I guess."

"And play bingo until I drop dead? No, thank you. I love my job and I'm gonna stay till they get sick of seeing my face. So what's with this promotion?"

"I'm the associate editor now."

"That's wonderful," she said. "I read your articles all the time, and I tell all my friends to read them too. I liked the one you did about how the price of office space is starting to go up downtown."

"Yeah, that was an exciting one."

"I enjoyed it," she said. "It was a very interesting article, and very well-written too. You shouldn't put yourself down that way."