After the Opera

"Me too!" Andrew reminded her.

"Your fault, letting them know what you like!" Margaret admonished him, and on that note she slapped his hip playfully, not having access to his behind, which she usually slapped in a moment such as this. "But I forgive you." Grinding in harder now, she went on, "Just...just come join us for the meeting, Andrew."

He snapped back to reality, and instinctively he tried to think of some way to hide his handcuffs, only to realize he wasn't cuffed. Next came the realization that he was fully clothed and in the library filing room. Margaret, also fully clothed in her usual long skirt and sensible sweater, was in the doorway. "Sorry, Andrew, Diane wants us all for the meeting," she said.

"Oh, of course," Andrew said. "Yeah, sorry. Guess I was too interested in these old press clippings."

"I know how that goes," Margaret reassured him. "Are you still working on that Aaron Goldstein collection?"

"Yeah, all morning," Andrew confirmed. "Showbiz in New York sure sounds like it was glamorous back then." Standing up, he took in the wintry Midwestern landscape out the window. "Have you ever been to New York, Margaret?"

"Just once, for a week in college. It's nice but it's not like it must've been back then."

"That's what I figured."

Diane, dressed similarly to Margaret, was holding court at her desk. "Ah, Andrew. How's the Goldstein collection coming?"

"Great," Andrew said. "Really fascinating, too. I guess I was getting a bit too immersed there. But it's coming along well."

"That's good," Diane said, adjusting her thick glasses. "Tara? The Concord papers?"

"I'll have them ready this afternoon," Tara, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt said in her usual whisper.

"Please do, they want them upstairs as soon as possible," Diane said. "Ariana, I trust you're not still working in the stacks this week if you're dressed like that?"

"Oh," Ariana laughed nervously; she was wearing a black dress not unlike Andrew had imagined. "I'm going to a cocktail party after work, and yes, we're done with that project."

"Then you can help Andrew with the Goldstein papers this afternoon." It was a statement, not a question. "With two of you, you'll be less likely to get sucked in, don't you think?"

"Sure," Andrew and Ariana said with an agreeable chuckle.

"Wonderful, then. Lunchtime, and I'm off for a cigarette." Diane stood up, and without another word she scooped up her pocketbook and was off. Tara got up and shuffled off to the kitchen to retrieve her usual sandwich without another word. Margaret lingered by Andrew, who was making no move to stand up.

Ariana noticed as well. "Andrew, are you okay?" she asked.

"Never better," Andrew said. "Sorry, I guess I was a little bit too interested in those photos. Everything was so glamorous back then!"

"If you were a famous impresario," Margaret said, touching Andrew's hand with an agreeable pat.

"That's true," Ariana agreed. "You'll get used to that if you stay here long, Andrew. This job give you a lot of glimpses of paradise and it's easy to forget that's not what it was like for most people."

"Fair enough," Andrew said. "Ariana, have you ever been to New York?"

"Couple of times," Ariana said. "It's nice, but it's not like I'm sure you're imagining after those pictures." She picked up her purse. "I have to run, I'm meeting my boyfriend for lunch. See you in a bit."

Andrew nodded, and at last he stood up. Turning to Margaret, he asked, "Do you have plans for lunch?"

"I was thinking of just going for a sandwich at the café," she said. "Want to come?"

"I'd love to," she said. "I've been hoping we'd get a chance to get to know each other a little better, actually. You've been here, what about a month now?"

Andrew nodded.

"Glad we haven't scared you off, then," Margaret said, pulling on her coat. "I imagine it must be a nightmare sometimes, a man working in an otherwise all-female department!"

Andrew couldn't resist smiling. "Actually, Margaret? It isn't bad at all."