A Slender Thread by Katharine Davis Page A

weekends. Eventually her college friends had scattered, and her last boyfriend, a sweet guy, tall and awkward in ways that reminded her of a younger Alex, left for law school in Oregon. He asked her to join him there, but she decided there was not enough between them to warrant a move all the way across the country.
    Soon enough there had been other men in Margot’s life. She had friends from the office and went off after work to bars and restaurants with different groups. Some guys wanted sex on the first date; others were workaholics. No one seemed right for her. More and more she yearned for the easy, steady, adult kind of happiness that Alex and Lacey seemed to share. At times she wondered if she would ever meet the right person. During her fifth spring in New York she met Teddy at a restaurant not far from her office.
    â€œMind if I join you?” he asked.
    Margot looked up. She was wedged in the corner of a tiny lunch place called Soups and Savories. Since there were only a dozen tables, customers were expected to share with strangers. “Sure,” she said, moving her cream of carrot soup closer to her. The man taking the seat opposite her had neatly trimmed brown hair. She glanced at him again while reaching for her roll. He had bright blue eyes and a dimple in his chin. Good-looking, she thought, and what Granny Winkler would have called a “snappy dresser.”
    Margot took a bite of bread and bent over her paper.
    â€œReal estate section?” he asked, pulling back the lid on his carton of soup.
    So much for a peaceful lunch alone. She nodded and began to eat. The cream of carrot tasted too spicy. This was the soup she usually ordered, but the cook must have been experimenting with a new recipe. Now she’d have to find a new favorite. New Yorkers didn’t like it when you couldn’t make up your mind, holding up the hungry people in line, everyone with little time to spare.
    â€œAre you looking for a new place?”
    Margot stared at him directly and tried to be pleasant. This man, probably a few years older than she was, had an engaging smile. Something charismatic about him made it hard to look away. He wore a very crisp blue shirt and a striped red and silver tie. Preppy but cute, Lacey would have said.
    â€œI am.” It wasn’t easy being polite and nonencouraging at the same time.
    â€œLost your roommates or just ready to live alone?”
    Did she look like the kind of person who preferred to be alone? “I have my own place already,” she said. “I’m actually looking to buy.”
    His eyebrows rose. “I see,” he said. He had ordered the oven-roasted tomato. Maybe she should try that soup next.
    â€œFinding an apartment is not easy,” she said.
    â€œMost people hope for problems like that.”
    â€œI know I’m lucky. Believe me, it’s nothing I ever thought I’d be doing. My grandmother died and left me some money.” Should she be telling this to a stranger? She could sense his interest, though it didn’t feel threatening. “She stipulated that I use the money to buy a place to live. Otherwise, it goes into some charitable trust.”
    â€œAh. An heiress,” he said.
    â€œHardly. What seems like a lot of money to me doesn’t go far around here.” He ate his soup while she told him about her apartment search. Not a drop fell on his fancy tie. He looked like a guy who would keep his place neat, meticulous even. She glanced down. His shoes, brown leather European loafers, probably Italian, were shined. He must be older, closer to Alex and Lacey’s age. “Even if I can afford the price of an apartment, I need to find something where I’ll be able to pay the monthly maintenance.”
    â€œWhere’s your place now?”
    â€œSecond Avenue. A boring little box.”
    â€œYou look like a prewar kind of girl.” He smiled. Perfectly even white teeth.
    He was flirting with