Page 3 of Be My Valentine

on a pair of shoes

and then say out loud:

“Oh God,” you should buy them.

(Anne Lamott)

New York in January was freezing. Kate left the legal studio at eight o’clock sharp. It was lower Manhattan, between the financial district and Battery Park, and her friend Allison worked a few steps from her office, (which she hoped would only remain her office for a short time). The cold attacked her fiercely; and as she was accustomed to wearing her hair down, the bite got her directly in the back of the head.

“That bastard’s fault!” She mumbled angrily and without thinking pulled the elastic band away. She stifled a groan of pain with little success: her hair was stubbornly tangled in the rubber, there was nothing left for her but to rip it out. “Shit!” She cursed with a yank and finally that torture flew from her head, to land next to a pair of loafers she knew well. Attorney Arrow had probably come out after her; he bent down and picked up Kate’s disaster, turning it over in his hands.

Kate swallowed hard. Had he heard her call him a bastard? Oh God, she couldn’t lose her job over something as silly as that.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, but I was going to pick it up, I don’t throw garbage on the street.” It was the stupidest thing that could have come out of her mouth; what was this, a class in civic education?

Mark Arrow avoided looking at her, focused on that damn rubber band and the locks that remained knotted. Kate moved in a flash and took it out of his hands, spotted the nearest trash can and got rid of it in a flash. The lawyer remained planted there, watching her every move.

“You should find something more suitable, Miss Donovan.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll see to it as soon as possible.” She shook out her hair, which had fallen dishevelled across her face.

“Good.” He started in the opposite direction to her.

“Mr. Arrow, excuse me.” Kate ran after him, “Do I still have a job?” She asked hesitantly, her eyes filled with uncertain hope.

She felt blue eyes settle on every inch of her face, then the look became almost mocking.

“I can’t afford to fire everyone who calls me a bastard, or I’d be out of staff.”

Kate lowered her eyes, helpless.

“I apologize, I really do, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you just undid your hair for me. Some men might be flattered.”

Without adding anything else, much less a smile, he walked toward the garage where he had his assigned parking space.

Kate was stunned: had he made a joke or was it a tease?

She decided that the answer was not important, the main thing was not to have lost her job.

She walked to the shoe store where Allison worked. Her friend was a saleswoman and would often stay late after closing to tidy up the store. Allie opened for her in a flash and Kate hugged her friend.

“What happened?” She asked her worriedly.

“I just got so close to losing my job. Can I tell you all about it while I look at my favorite Louboutins?”

Allie shook her head and put the box of shoes she loved in her hand.

“Talk while you worship them.” She joked.

“You should put them in the window so I can admire them even when I walk by.”

“Come on, what did you do?”

Kate spilled the beans.

“Why is it that only you have to tie up your hair?” She asked when her friend stopped talking.