The Last Phone Booth in Manhattan(56)



At the mention of dinner being potentially pushed back even later, Adam eyed me, and then his plate, and ceremoniously popped a mini egg roll in his mouth.

I chuckled at the accuracy of his earlier observation and followed suit, and we chewed together in silence behind our knowing smirks.

I swallowed and said, “Looks like I need to report for duty.”

“So, are you like a volunteer with the organization? Orr . . .”

“Not quite. I’m Gabe’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, right. That whole exchange makes a lot more sense now.” He stood from his chair and placed his napkin on the table. “Well, Gabe’s a great guy.”

“Thanks. It was nice to meet you. Maybe our paths will cross again.”

“You never know.” He smiled.

I grabbed my clutch off the table and offered Adam one last smile before heading off to find Marcie in the auxiliary to give her Gabe’s message about kicking off the silent auction. Afterward, I made my way to our table, where I hoped Gabe would join me after he finished dealing with the teleprompter crisis. But, he never did. Two hours of speeches and three courses later, and I was still sitting there all alone.

A little after 1:00 a.m., my feet and feelings were aching to the core as I tallied up the numerous blows our relationship had taken over the past few months. There was his disregard for my audition today—really, all my auditions—his disregard for me sitting here alone now, just more examples in a series of many where Gabe was so consumed with his own passions, he didn’t give much thought to mine. Deep in my heart of hearts, I knew then and there that it was time to call it quits—the night and my relationship with Gabe.

The next morning, at my request, we met at our café. Gabe came breezing in, late of course, his cell phone glued to his ear.

“No problem, I can swing by the hotel later and pick up the rest of it.” He sat down at the table and raised his chin in my direction as a means of a midconversation hello. “Me too. Just incredible. I never thought we’d surpass our goal, and by so much. Really great job by you and the rest of the team. Yeah, yeah of course, I’ll be in later.” He held his finger up indicating he needed another minute or so to finish up his call.

Though I should have been used to it, in this moment, my patience and frustration grew even hotter than the steaming coffee I was cupping in my hand. There he was, as always, oblivious to the fact he was putting me on the back burner. It hadn’t just been yesterday after my audition, or last night as he ignored me all evening, or even this morning walking in here fifteen minutes late and on a call. But for a long time now.

He shifted in his chair, trying to maneuver himself out of his coat while still tethered like a lifeline to his phone. “Oh, really? The New York Times? I’ll take a look online, but if you have the actual paper, hold on to it, and we can frame the article for the office. Thanks, Susan, see you around three,” he said, finally hanging up.

He set his phone down on the table and immediately started to scroll for the New York Times article Susan mentioned.

“Hey? Hi?” I waved my hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, give me oooooonnnneeee more second. Okay . . . and . . . sent.” He looked up from the screen and turned his phone around to show me what he was so focused on. “The gala made the front page of the Styles section. Do you know how much more attention that’s going to get us? I mean, we already surpassed our goal, but if we’re able to get even a few more donations, we’ll have the funding to develop the program across all the boroughs, not just Manhattan.”

“That’s really great news,” I said, and it was. For Gabe and for all the children who would benefit from his hard work. I was truly, deep down in my heart, happy to hear the event had been such a success, but this dark cloud, this writing on the wall that I’d been refusing to read, continued to hover and thicken over our relationship, and last night made it even clearer to me our lives were heading in separate directions.

“Great? It’s fantastic! President Clinton was the ace in the hole,” Gabe recounted, a wide smile on his face as he opened up the menu to scan it. “Breakfast was a good idea. I never even had dinner last night. Come to think of it, I didn’t sit down all evening, not once.”

“I know,” I remarked curtly.

He glanced up from the menu. “Hey, are you upset with me? I’m sorry I didn’t spend more time with you last night, but there was a lot on my plate.”

“I’m not upset, Gabe, I’m used to it,” I admitted, “but I can’t continue to be a total afterthought.”

His hands flew into the air in exasperation. “It was our biggest night of the year, the culmination of all my hard work and time, and I needed to give it a hundred percent of my attention. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing. At all. That’s what I’m saying. But that audition was the culmination of all my hard work and time, and for some reason, you dismissed it like it didn’t matter. It mattered to me.” I moistened my lips and prepared to say all the things I’d been hesitant to acknowledge before. “I don’t think you’re invested in this relationship right now. There’s no room for me in your life. And I hate saying that because of all the wonderful things you do have room for, but it hurts too much not to be one of them.”

“Yesterday was a whirlwind. I do want to hear about your audition. Tell me what happened, I’m ready now.”

Beth Merlin & Daniel's Books