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wrote a short story. A friend told me it had potential to be a novel, so I took him up on the challenge and stretched it. He begged me to show it to my English professor at the time. After he read it, he shared it with his colleagues. They all encouraged me to submit to agents with the hopes to get it published.”
    Our food arrived, but neither woman began to eat. Their stares implored me to continue. “After twenty-seven rejections, I decided to withdraw my submission. I tossed the story into a box, where it’s been sitting at the bottom of my closet since. But, the whole experience made me interested in how agents operate. I applied for a reader internship with an agent here in New York and learned a great deal, but he wouldn’t promote me to junior agent. Since he didn’t want to help me, I had to move on. So, I left. I landed a position as junior agent with his rival. And I utilized everything I learned from him. My ex-boss was pissed, but I needed to pay rent. I figured it’s the nature of the business. I jumped from junior agent to senior agent in less than a year, but the agency went out of business. That’s when I came to Stratford, where I’ve been ever since.”
    Rose was satisfied with my tale. She picked up her fork and began to eat her salmon. Rebecca, on the other hand, wanted more. “So why’d you stay so long at Stratford? I mean it seems obvious that you’re looking to climb.”
    I chewed my pasta and swallowed before answering. “I like the way you do things. You cater to both sides - the clients and the houses. And somehow you manage to make everyone happy without compromising your principals, all while making the most from both ends. It’s impressive how you’ve developed your company.”
    A smile of accomplishment appeared on Rebecca’s face. “I’m a very savvy business woman.”
    I looked up to see her staring at me. “I know. I plan on learning a great deal from you.”
    Pleased with my answer, she lifted her fork to her mouth. Her smile widened before she took a bite of her food.
    Two glasses of wine and one cup of coffee with dessert caused Rose to surrender and go home. Rebecca had the maître ‘d call her a cab.
    “Rose is widowed,” Rebecca explained once the older woman was safely away in the cab. “I worry about her taking the subway home, particularly at night. She tells me she’s fine, but I can’t help it. Do you live far from here?” Her eyes sparkled in the dim light. Again, I was distracted by her mouth. Why couldn’t I have ever dated someone like her?
    “I live on 50 th , near Broadway.”
    “Oh, not far from the office.”
    “I could take the train, but I usually walk it. Don’t want to run the risk of being late. You know how the subway runs.”
    “ Actually, I don’t. I don’t care for the subway system. But that must be convenient for you, living so close.”
    “What about you? Do you live near the office?” Was I getting too personal? Well, she asked me, wasn’t it okay to ask her the same question?
    “I have an apartment in SoHo.”
    Of course she did. “I bet that’s nice. Lot’s of night life.”
    “It’s okay. It’s a bustling area. I usually stay in at night though. I tend to get most submissions read while I’m relaxing in my pajamas.”
    I imagined Rebecca in a red, silk negligee, lying across a big white comforter surrounded by manuscripts. Suddenly, I felt a pull in my groin. My eyes flashed open and I shifted in my seat. “Excuse me for a moment, I need to use the men’s room.”
    “Of course.”
    Once in front of the mirror, I scolded myself. “What are you thinking? That’s your boss. You aren’t supposed to think of her in sexy lingerie. It must be the wine. Get a grip, Alex.” When I sufficiently reprimanded myself, I rinsed my face with some cold water and ran my hands through my hair. Returning to the table, Rebecca had already settled the bill.
    “Please, let me get dinner,” I said.
    “Oh no. I told you this was