Dear Editor

you got here! You're gonna be so excited!"
The fact that Donna was so easily amused was one of her most endearing qualities, in Jessica's opinion. "Did the new owner give us all a raise?" Jessica stirred her coffee and took a deep drink. Ahhhh. She hoped Donna would not ask about her weekend. She really liked Donna and would absolutely love to have someone to talk to, but they didn't know one another well enough to tackle Bathroom Guy.
Her mom had always been the person she talked to, her dad. She made a little face. Not about this, though. Carol had called her Saturday to thank her for the texted photo, but Jessica couldn't bring herself to say much about it.
Donna giggled now, unable to contain herself. She was refreshingly open with her general delight with life. "Like that'll happen. You got flowers!"
Jessica smiled and shook her head. Eric. What a sweetheart. Even though he wasn't skilled at expressing his emotions, maybe he'd finally seen the value of a romantic gesture.
The last time Eric had brought her flowers had not been a stellar moment in their relationship. She'd taken the cellophane-wrapped bouquet from him with a smile that faded as she noticed the grocery store's sticker. She'd tried to laugh it off. "Reduced? You bought me flowers that were reduced? Thanks a lot!" Funny, for some reason, those little hurtful memories loomed more ominously now.
Maybe he'd learned something from it, though. Together, the women zigzagged through the busy room, greeting coworkers as they hurried past. Most of the men and women at the magazine had been there for years, but everyone had welcomed Jessica warmly. She was the low man on the totem pole, of course, so professional jealousy wasn't an issue. The fact that she was in a relationship had appeased any other potential jealousy as far as the women were concerned, and the guys, well, none of them had seemed to be interested in her, and she certainly hadn't been in them. Surely, she hadn't seen Bathroom Guy here? Weeks ago? Over by the—
Jessica gasped. On her desk, in an exquisite and decidedly non-standard-issue cobalt blue vase, was an enormous flower arrangement. At the same time elaborate and tasteful, the combination of roses, exotics and wildflowers took her breath away. Eric has really outdone himself, she thought as she pulled the little card off the plastic holder.
"What does it say?" Donna was practically jumping up and down beside her, trying to see the writing as Jessica opened up the envelope.
Please accept my profound apology. I enjoyed every second, but I can only imagine your anger. After I went downstairs, I saw the other costumed man—your Eric, I presume. Of course, you thought I was he! I don't know what came over me. Please forgive me. If you would have lunch with me, I promise to make it "worth" your while.
The note was signed D.V. Darth Vader, obviously. Ha Ha. So funny, I forgot to laugh. "Worth" your while? Who uses quotes like that?
"Sooooo. What did he say? Did you and your boyfriend have a great weekend, or is this to make up for a bad one?"
"Let's just get to work, Donna. We can talk later." Jessica sat down and slid the massive arrangement to one side, signaling to Donna that she was dismissed. Jessica shook a little as she sat down.
Bathroom Guy knows where I work. Did he know I would be at the party or would he have followed anyone up the stairs? He hadn't known about Eric, though, or apparently, that putting quotation marks in weird places was one of her pet peeves.
More difficult to accept at some level—a level Jessica was not proud of—was his obvious shame. Apologetic. Full of remorse. Those flowers had cost a pretty penny, maybe his entire week's wage if he did, in fact, work in the mailroom. Lunch, which would never happen, she decided, would have probably been the hot dog vendor on the street.
You love hot dogs, her inner goddess chided.
Jessica sniffed, clearing her head. Oh my God, I'm about to cry! Bathroom Guy had stirred emotions in her she hadn't even realized she had. Let's be brutally honest, she told herself, #metoo and all the rest. Even though she felt bad about what the incident had already meant to her relationship with Eric, she could not honestly say she was sorry it had happened. Angry at the presumption, yes, but the experience had been strangely liberating. Every cell in her body shouted with joy that this was what love and life was supposed to be like. It was like the universe had handed her a gift, a life-changing wake-up call.
Bathroom Guy may regret it, but she, oddly enough, did not regret it in the slightest.
Her office phone buzzed, jarring her back to the present. "Daniels. Oh, good morning, Skip. Anything new on Gallagher? I haven't had a chance to look yet." A young man named Tim Gallagher was all over the local news. He'd burned a house down then committed suicide. Investigators were trying to find out why.
A sudden ache pierced Jessica's heart. Any mention of fires did that. Her father had been so handsome in his uniform. He'd worked a little past his retirement age. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have been there to run into that building. And he would still be here today.
Jessica brushed the painful thought away. If anyone knew the latest, it would be Skip, movie-star handsome assistant to the editor. He'd been without anyone to assist, since Maureen had left for vacation, but he always managed to look busy.
More than once, a female visitor to the office had begun to swoon before someone gracefully whispered in her ear, "He's gay." More than once, a male visitor had begun to swoon before someone also whispered, "He's married to Paul, one of our photographers."
Skip cleared his throat for dramatic effect. "Forget Gallagher for the moment. We have a new editor as of this morning,