Table Talk

This is my entry in the April Fools Day Story Contest 2023. Your votes and comments are always appreciated.

All characters engaged in adult activities are legally adults over 18.

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Marc Leavitt was at his usual table in the library on Friday morning. He'd finished his 'real' work for the week and was furiously grinding away on his hobby, writing fiction... a special kind of fiction. Marc knew from experience that when the words were pouring out of him like they were now that he just needed to keep typing until the flood stopped. He could always polish up the text later. His fingers flew over the laptop keyboard. He was really in the zone today.

At last Marc reached a natural section break in his story. He leaned back in his chair for a bit of a mental break and reached for his water bottle. That's when he noticed her.

Emmy was sitting diagonally across from Marc. She had taken the seat without him noticing. Her backpack was on the table in front of her, and one finger twirled in her short curly hair as she read her book. Emmy glanced up and noted that Marc had stopped typing. Their eyes met and locked for a moment. Emmy felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She forced herself to pull her eyes away. His expression hadn't told her anything, but maybe he was just preoccupied. Eventually he began typing again. Emmy sighed to herself. Why couldn't I just say something to him??

Marc kept working on his story, but now he felt a bit distracted. The woman across the table was not a stunning classic beauty, but there was something about her that nagged at him. Slender, nicely proportioned, attractive face, and... that was it. Those striking blue-green eyes, the way they bored right into his. It had only been for a moment, but that moment was now fixed in his consciousness. He managed a few more paragraphs before the image became too much. He stopped and looked up again.

But she was gone.

*******

Emmy's experience with Craig, her last boyfriend, did not end well. The man was incredibly handsome but at 22, immature and arrogant. He flirted shamelessly with most of her friends, and simply waved off her protests -- "Don't be such a jealous bitch." What a toxic a-hole he turned out to be.

In hindsight it was inevitable that she eventually caught him with that slut Melody. When Emmy let herself into Craig's apartment, there they were pawing at each other. Their shirts had already come off, and Craig was pulling off her bra. Emmy screamed invective at Craig, threw her spare key at him, and stormed out, slamming the door. Craig blew up her phone with texts and calls: it was all a mistake, it would never happen again, babe you gotta get past it, you're the one I really want, blah, blah, blah. She immediately blocked him and didn't look back.

Emmy had gone back to graduate school after two years in the workforce. She realized now that dating a younger guy from school had been a big mistake. She needed someone who was not only interesting but stable and loyal, not some prick constantly looking for fresh meat. Her best friend Cecilia sympathized.

"Em, stop messing around with hot but flaky students. I know you. You're a bright woman, you'll never be happy with some airhead bad boy even if you could manage to pin him down. You need to find a slightly nerdy, more mature guy with some real substance. Get off the campus, go to museums, galleries, the library, or even lectures."

"Has that worked for you?"

Cecilia chortled. "Well, I found Vic in the produce section at Whole Foods, so maybe go there too!"

"I do go there, just not to troll for men," Emmy said, her tone a bit defensive.

Cecilia turned serious. "The world's changed, girl. The young guys either play the field or get their claws into some rich cougar. Women our age need to look carefully for stable guys and not write them off as boring. The most interesting men are the ones that have a lot of layers to be unraveled. Sometimes they have this smoldering sexuality that just needs to be tapped. Vic only needed a little bit of coaching, and he turned into a real bedroom tiger. Rowwrr!"

Emmy rolled her eyes. But she thought that maybe Cecilia had a point. She could maybe hang out in the places Cecilia suggested. She already knew that not one of the single men at her accounting firm was worth pursuing.

Emmy had no classes Friday and on a whim decided on a trip to the public library. She wasn't certain what to expect: homeless people, retirees, or toddlers and their moms. What she found though was a nice looking guy who was maybe 30 or a bit younger, with a day or two of stubble, horn-rimmed glasses, a trim physique, dressed in a comfortable vintage Levis shirt. He was sitting at a multi-seat table on the second floor, apparently working. She was interested enough to sit at the same table and try to read. She glanced at him occasionally but he was lost in concentration, typing away on his laptop.

After their eyes eventually met, Emmy sensed that he wasn't going to make a move; she didn't feel confident enough to speak to him, and he didn't stop working again. She finally left, regretting her shyness. But she thought about him a few times during the week, wondering if she would see him there again and how to kick-start a conversation. It couldn't hurt to try.

*******

The following Friday Marc had a rush assignment to complete and didn't make it to the library. Emmy came in and returned some books, but she didn't see him after searching all of the tables on the second floor. She left, feeling a bit downcast.

The rest of the week was hard for Emmy. She had more thoughts about the mystery man in the library, and just couldn't let go of the idea that he might be there again on Friday. She even went shopping in Whole Foods but the only guys she saw there were older ones with their wives, or young stockboys. By Friday she wasn't sure she wanted to try the library again. In a burst of bravado she talked herself into it.

Emmy came into the library and again went to the second floor. She was preparing herself for another disappointment. As she came around the stacks, her heart rate jumped -- the man with the laptop was there again. This time he had no stubble. It also looked like he'd had a recent haircut, and it looked good. His denim shirt had the sleeves rolled up partway, definitely a sexy look. She straightened her shoulders, walked to the table, put down her backpack and sat -- this time directly across from the man.

Marc was working at his usual table in the library. He had a couple of good ideas to work into the story he was writing and smiled to himself as they started to take shape. He was concentrating on his screen and the backpack barely registered. Then a soft feminine scent penetrated his shell of concentration, and he looked up. It was the same woman.

Now he gave her a good look. She had short, curly brown hair in a sort of messy pixie cut, and those brilliant, intense blue-green eyes. A man could get lost in those eyes. She turned her head and their gazes met again. This time though she spoke, a gentle voice that caressed his ears like velvet.

"Hello again."

Marc was flustered for a moment, but recovered. He gave her a small smile.

"Hello. You were here once before, weren't you?"

"That's right, two weeks ago. I guess you're a Friday library regular?"

Marc chuckled. "This seems to be a good spot for me to be productive. I didn't make it here last week though, I was tied up with my real job." Marc wondered if she had been in last week, but didn't want to sound creepy by asking her.

Emmy was curious. "What is it you're working on?"

"I'm not sure it qualifies as real work. I write stories here in my free time. Fiction."

Her eyes widened. "Really? For publication, or just as a hobby?"

He shrugged. "A bit of both I suppose. I find it relaxing and stimulating. I've published a few things on Inkblott."

Emmy was fully attentive now. That site had stories and books in several categories, but its notoriety came largely from the racy romances and erotica published there. "Tell me more. That's very interesting."

"Well, I suppose you know the kind of stories that draw attention there."

"The really racy stuff, right? And you write yours in the library?" Emmy realized she was being a bit loud and lowered her voice. "It's almost like working undercover. By the way, I'm Emmy. And you are...?"

"I'm Marc. It's nice to meet you, Emmy."

Her smile was now high wattage, no longer shy. "So, you probably use a pen name?"

He laughed. "Of course I do. None of my friends have any idea that I write this kind of thing."

"I'd love to read some of your work. Will you tell me your pen name?"

Marc winced. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. We've just met. I don't want you to have a bad impression of me right away."

Emmy was fascinated by him. He didn't seem at all like some kind of pervert, he looked her right in the eye without checking out her boobs, and frankly he had a great smile. She made up her mind. "I know we've just met, but if we're both going to be Friday regulars here, shouldn't we learn something about each other?" She pulled out her phone, unlocked it and slid it across the table. "Let's exchange numbers. I'd love to talk more about your stories. I'm not going to get a bad impression of you if you have the ability to capture real human feelings and emotions. Especially if you do it well." She smiled her encouragement.

Marc hid his surprise as he typed in his contact information. This poised young woman with her amazing eyes and the eye-catching smile seemed genuinely interested in something that he expected most women like her would find repellent. He couldn't remember the last time a woman asked him for his number.

Marc texted himself from Emmy's phone and save her as a contact. "Emmy, can I have your last name?"

"It's Randall." She spelled it for him.

Emmy surprised him once again as he handed her phone back. "You know what, don't tell me your pen name. I think I'd like to try guessing it."

Marc stared at her. "How could you possibly guess my pseudonym, there are hundreds of authors on the site!"

Emmy smiled. "I'm pretty resourceful, and I think I have a decent chance. Why don't we turn this into a little game. Give me two weeks, then if I can guess it you'll have to buy me lunch. If I can't, I'll buy you lunch. And to make it even more interesting, we'll go to Tutti Verde."

Marc was a bit taken aback by the apparent confidence of this woman. Little did he suspect that Emmy's heart was racing, her thoughts whirling as she tried to keep building their connection. Finally Marc nodded.

"All right, you're on."

Their conversation about fiction continued, often animated. Then they got onto the architecture of the recent development around town. They both agreed that the charm of the town was in its older buildings, not the ugly new ones.

It was a challenge for them to keep their voices down to library volume, but fortunately there were few patrons around them. Most of them had their earbuds in anyway. Finally Marc checked his phone. It was nearly 12:30 pm. He'd been chatting with this fascinating woman for well over an hour. He looked up.

"Hey, I'm getting pretty hungry. Why don't we go over to Manic and grab some lunch?" Manic was an upscale bar in a vintage building just down the street from the library, known for their burgers.

Emmy appraised him, arching her eyebrows. "Ok, but only if we go dutch. This lunch has nothing to do with our bet."

Marc nodded his agreement.

Emmy packed up her things, as did Marc. Then they headed down the stairs and out the door.

*******

The server came for their orders. Marc decided to have a Guinness. "I don't have to drive anywhere," he shrugged. "My house is only six blocks from here."

Emmy smiled. "It's too early for me to have a drink. I'll just have a ginger ale." She leaned closer to Marc. "If we were having dinner, I couldn't resist a Moscow mule. But I have to get some studying done tonight."

"You're still a student?" Marc's surprise was evident.

"I worked for two and a half years after graduating. Then I went back to school to get my Master's. I only have one semester left. I'm still working part-time for the accounting firm I joined after I got my Bachelor's. Once I complete my Master's I expect other opportunities to open up."

"I admire your ambition," he said. "What degree are you getting, an MBA?"

"No, I'm working on a Master's in Sociology."

"Interesting! What will you do with that degree?"

"I can go any number of directions, community outreach, counseling, grant writing, even fundraising for nonprofits. It's much less limiting than the accounting work. I think that working more with people will be good for me."

"It sounds like it," Marc said. "I'm a software consultant, these days working mostly from home. That's one good outcome from the pandemic anyway, freedom from the tyranny of the cubicle and endless pointless meetings. Most weeks I manage to have Friday free, so I can humor my writing bug."

Their burgers arrived and they both dug in. Marc wiped his mouth with a napkin. "This is an indulgent lunch for me, but frankly I couldn't resist talking with you some more."

Emmy grinned. "Same. But I'd like to know how you got into the writing game. Writing hot fiction is not really the norm for software nerds."

"Maybe not," said Marc, his eyes playful. "I think you might be fishing for some hints about me though."

Emmy laughed. "You totally busted me! I'll have to be more subtle."

Marc laughed with her. "I'll tell you this much. I started writing because so many of the stories on that site are such complete trash that I told myself I could probably write something better than that."

"Do you think you have?"

He smiled. "I'm just egotistic enough to think so. But writing seriously for an audience, any audience, is almost guaranteed to bring out your own insecurities. It's a challenge to try your best. I know that it's a cliché, but I'm my own worst critic."

Emmy studied him. This man might have insecurities, but everybody did. He also had the resolve to keep putting himself out there, even under a pseudonym. She couldn't help wondering what sort of heat simmered under his cool exterior. This could be a game well worth playing.

The bill came, and Marc looked at her. "You're sure you want to split this? Technically I asked you to lunch."

Emmy took out her wallet. "You need to follow the rules, Marc. I accepted on the condition that we split the bill. You'll be buying me lunch in two weeks anyway!" Her eyes twinkled at him.

"That sounds pretty confident, Emmy. Are you sure that I'm that transparent?"

She looked at him. He was again transfixed by her eyes. "I think you're a complex person, not at all transparent. But that's what interests me, and that's what I'll use to find you out."

Marc shook his head, smiling. "I'm almost tempted to wish you luck."

Emmy grinned as she counted out bills.

"But only almost," he added.

They stood on the corner outside Manic, lingering for a moment.

"Will I see you again next Friday?" Emmy asked.

"Of course. I'm usually at the library by 10:00."

"I'll text you just to make sure you're going. Marc... I really enjoyed our lunch."

"So did I, Emmy. I'll see you next week."

Emmy leaned in and quickly kissed his cheek. "Count on it." She walked away as Marc stared at her slim, shapely figure, her hips swaying just enough to be noticed.

*******

Emmy had told herself that she didn't need to jump right back into a relationship. But this guy seemed different, more complex, personable, and comfortably masculine without being overbearing. I need to give this guy a chance.

"I met someone at the library," Emmy told Cecilia at Starbucks. "I'm not sure whether it's going somewhere yet."

"Yeah? What's he like?"

"He's a techie guy, probably a few years older than me, really nice and pretty decent looking. And he's not a typical shy nerd either. We had a long conversation on a lot of topics. He goes there on Fridays because he writes fiction on the side and it's become his workspace for that. I guess it makes him comfortable to write when he's surrounded by books."

"Well! This sounds like a step up for you, Em. Did he ask you out?"

Emmy shrugged. "Kind of, but it was just a spontaneous lunch date. I wouldn't let him pay for me. I'll see him at the library again this week unless something comes up."

Cecilia leaned over the table. "Vic asked me to go for coffee right after we met in Whole Foods. I think a spontaneous date is a pretty good sign that he's interested. You said he's good at conversation. Is there any texting going on between you?"

"I might need to work on that a bit," said Emmy. "I did convince him to exchange numbers."

"There's nothing wrong with reminding him that he met a great woman!"

Emmy giggled. "I can always make sure that he's going to be at the library again Friday. That's just being friendly, not pushy."

Cecilia nodded. "Yes, a gentle nudge can be effective. But don't forget to flirt a bit too. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you, girl!"

"I... kind of made a bet with him." Emmy looked at her friend. "Don't laugh. I bet him lunch that I could figure out the pseudonym he uses for his stories."

"What the fuck? How are you planning to do that, by sneaking peeks at his screen or something?"

"Jeez Celia, give me some credit. I'm going to learn what I can about him and search the website where he posts."

"And read what, like a bezillion stories trying to find something you can tie back to this guy? It sounds like you've just put yourself on the hook for buying him lunch."

"I think I can be a bit smarter than that." Emmy glared at her friend. "Maybe I should bet with you, too, and teach you a lesson."

Cecilia smacked her arm. "Oh fuck off! I buy you lunch often enough as it is."

"Yeah? And who just bought you a grande cinnamon mocha latte, with extra fucking whipped cream?"

Cecilia grimaced. "Ok, I guess I owe you next time."

Emmy giggled. "Damn straight you do."

*******

Emmy texted Marc on Thursday night.

'U on for library tomorrow?'

She waited, a bit nervous, hoping she could keep things going between them. Finally her phone pinged.

'Yes! Just finished up my work for the week. Ten o'clock ok?'

'Yes, but I may grab coffee so I could be a few minutes late'

'U getting me some too?"

'lol I guess I fell into that one. How do u take it'

'Just a splash of milk. Thx!'

'c u then'

'I'll be at our usual table'

Emmy smiled at that. 'Our table,' after only one date. I need to go for this.

Emmy walked into the library the next day with a spring in her step. She spotted Marc at the table and came up to put his coffee in front of him.

Marc smiled up at her and placed his hand on her arm. Emmy smiled back.

"Thank you, Emmy. I'll get it next week, ok?"

This time Emmy sat next to Marc rather than across from him. "You'd better. I'm keeping track, you know." She grinned at him and took a sip of her coffee.

"I've been meaning to ask you, is Emmy a nickname or your given name?"

Emmy looked at him, arching her eyebrows with a hint of a smile. "I guess I knew we would get around to this sooner or later. My name is Emmanuelle."

Mark stared at her in shock, then burst out laughing. "Your parents actually named you Emmanuelle? I can see why you go by Emmy. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed at you."

Emmy smirked at him. "Your parents named you Marc with a 'c.' I'll bet that's caused you a fair amount of explaining!"