“First-time authors are usually pretty terrible; they use poor grammar and devise plots that are either trite or ridiculous. But this one was so much better, and I really thought it might have what it takes to be a good seller. I’d been afraid to take it to Mrs. Grissom, my boss, because junior editors just don’t do that.”
He flashed that big grin at me. “Anyway, on Tuesday I decided to act like Superman instead of like myself. So after lunch I went to her office and handed her the manuscript. After she told me to stop wasting her time, I said, “Mrs. Grissom, just take this home and read the first couple of chapters. If I really have wasted your time, then you should fire me, because I obviously don’t have the right talent for this job.'”
I tried not to show a reaction, but my guts clinched. What Alex was describing was the sort of thing I’d often dreamed about, because I’d always wanted to be a serious writer. I’d even written a novel, but I’d never tried to submit it anywhere because I knew it wasn’t good enough.
To cover my envy, I said, “You didn’t really do that, did you, Alex? I know how much you like your work – you’re taking a huge risk.”
He gave me a wry grin. “Maybe so, but I really believe in this, and I decided it was better to take a risk than always be afraid of failure.”
“So what happened?” I wanted to know.
“Nothing, yet,” he said. “Mrs. Grissom went out of town and won’t be back till Friday.”
“Omigod,” I said, “I’d be a nervous wreck waiting to find out what she thinks.”
“That’s why I wanted to have lunch with you today: so I’d have something more pleasant on my mind.”
I blushed in spite of myself. I knew it was just flattery, but it made me feel good anyway. And then he said something that made me feel even better.
“There’s another reason I wanted to see you today. This Saturday, one of the big online booksellers is holding a fancy cocktail party for the publishing industry. All of us are supposed to go, and I’d really like you to come with me.”
“You want me to be your date?” I asked in surprise.
“Yeah, if you’re not in a relationship and you’d like to come.”
“No, I mean, no, I’m not in a relationship. What I mean is yes, I’d be glad to go with you,” I stuttered.
“Great,” he said, and handed me a copy of the invitation. “Here are all the details. Why don’t I meet you there in the lobby at 8:00?”
I nodded because I seemed to be having difficulty speaking. To cover my awkwardness, I glanced at my watch. “Oh, wow, I need to get back to work.”
Alex nodded and began to crane his neck, looking for our waitress to bring our check. But instead, the owner saw him and came over to our table. “It’s not often we have a superhero dine with us,” he smiled. “Your lunch is on the house.”
Alex stood and thanked him warmly; then they embraced like men do and we headed for the door.
“That was amazing,” I told Alex, “I’ve never seen a restaurant comp a lunch tab like that before.”
“You need to go out with superheroes more often,” he said with a wink.
Alex walked me back to my office, waving and nodding to strangers who spoke to him along the way. When we got to the building entrance he said, “Thank you for the wonderful article, and thank you for having lunch with me.” Then, before I could respond, he leaned over and gave me a little kiss on the lips. As I stood there in surprise, he turned to leave. “Don’t forget about Saturday night,” he said with a smile, and then he was gone.