Too Easy Read Online Free

a girlish voice, “You did mention the good stuff? The twenty-year-old port perhaps.”
    â€œOh, yeah, great,” Robert says.
    She stands on her toes, kisses him solemnly on the mouth. Robert stares at her through half-shut eyes. But she’s so nice, he thinks. Anne is so nice. The perfect wife. I always said that, didn’t I?
    â€œYou’re not tired,” she says, “are you?”
    â€œOh, no, wide awake.”
    â€œAnd raring to go,” Anne says, with a sweet nervous smile, as if she’s said something outrageous.

Chapter
5
    â€¢  Robert sits in the back of the place, the one Kathy found. It’s just off Lex, six blocks below where they work. Better than a dive, but not the kind of place other editors would go. “A good safe place,” Kathy said. Just hearing the word safe made him feel uneasy, guilty.
    He’s in a booth, staring at the front, watching, waiting. She’s a few minutes late. The first time they did this she was there ahead of him. He came in, saw her, it felt good. Now he has time to think, worry. He stares furtively at each of the people walking in the door, or walking by him. Does he know them? Could anybody recognize him? Does it make any difference? The light is very low. Still, he keeps the parka on, sitting there with his arms on the table, his shoulders hunched up to cover part of his face. He feels obvious, conspicuous. He always laughed at people sneaking out of porno stores or cruising the hookers on Tenth. Hell, he thought, if I do that, I’m not hiding. Bullshit. The more hidingthe better, that’s how he sees it now.
    You don’t see anybody you know for years. Naturally he’d see someone here, now. Hey, Rob, how’s Anne? You alone? Can I join you? The obnoxious little scenario unrolls in his head. What’s up? You’re not waiting for somebody, are you? Business, Rob? Hey, you’re not . . . running around, are you?  . . . Robert imagines snatching the guy up, throwing him over the bar. A little late. He knows. Everybody knows.
    Robert looks at his fingers, realizes he’s tapping the table. His body feels tense, his mouth dry. He hates waiting anyway. But now he’s waiting for Kathy, and they’re bound to be discovered, and besides they don’t have that much time.
    Just a little meeting, pretend it’s casual, no big deal, doesn’t mean anything. Well, what the hell does it mean?
    â€œJesus,” he mutters.
    I just wish she’d come in the door. That smile. The way she glides in, a little cocky, a little flirtatious. Dressed up in a nice, elegant way, one of those executive outfits. But you don’t forget it’s a woman inside there. Not for a second. Oh, she makes sure of that.
    That’s the thing. She’s running this whole game? Controlling it? Feels like that sometimes. But for what? Love, lust, getting ahead? Or she’s this little girl falling for the big editor? Maybe a Cosmo girl, doing what that dumb magazine tells her to do, try some new adventure. Maybe she’s just friendly. Maybe she doesn’t fucking know. Damn it.
    Robert feels the insanity of being here. Drifting out of work a little early. Making excuses. Hell, lying. Trying to look invisible. Hoping nobody notices when he walks south instead of toward Grand Central. And for what? So he can sit across the table from her for a half hour?
    Jesus. Am I crazy?
    Ahhhhh. He sees her framed in the doorway. Fifty feet away, he can feel the heat of her, the joy. God, what a rush. He sits up straighter, stares at her, can’t help smiling.
    Come on, baby. Come on down here. I’m waiting just for you. . . .
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    Not much time left, if he’s going to catch the 6:04. Finally Robert says, “So why are we here?”
    That’s good, she thinks. Either the dumbest question she’s ever heard, or the smartest.
    She lets a few