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a hitch, but instead of being able to celebrate, a new matter was put on her desk moments after the final signature page had been faxed. She felt like Lucy in the chocolate factory.
    Rumor had it the partnership committee was having a deliberation session that day, at least according to her BFF Renaldo on the maintenance crew. He had just delivered four sandwich platters and eight yellow legal pads to the forty-second-floor conference room.
    Amid the stream of e-mails advertising summer sales, Evie noticed a message from Joshua Birnbaum, a tech entrepreneur she’d met on JDate three months earlier. They went out twice—two no-sparks-but-could’ve-been-worse evenings that left both of them fairly apathetic. But here was Joshua again, suggesting they meet for a drink as though ninety days hadn’t passed since they’d last been in contact. She was actually considering accepting when her phone rang.
    “Hi, lady,” Caroline chirped. “We didn’t recap the wedding yet. How’ve you been?”
    “Eh. Swamped at work, as usual, and annoyed Paul’s cousin has vanished into thin air.”
    “He’s probably just busy at work. If his job is anything like yours, he doesn’t have a ton of spare time to make dates.”
    Evie didn’t have the strength to fight Caroline on that point—to state the plain fact that drafting a simple “It was great to meet you” e-mail could be accomplished in less than thirty seconds. No one knew that better than Evie. She managed to send dozens of personal e-mails out during the day. The letters on the keyboard of her computer were practically tattooed on her finger pads. She could dash off a one-liner blindfolded and with one hand tied behind her back.
    “I think you should just put him out of your head,” Carolinewent on. “You know how that whole watched pot business works anyway. Can you hang on a sec? I’m in a cab.” She heard Caroline ask the driver to take her to the Plaza Hotel on Central Park South. Then, in a far more hushed tone, she heard Caroline tell him to pick her up in two hours. Last time Evie checked, taxis didn’t do round-trips. Clearly Caroline was talking to Jorge, her chauffeur, but at least she was embarrassed about it.
    “Sorry, I’m back. I’m walking into a luncheon. Text me if you hear from him. You know how boring these charity things are—I’ll just be staring at my phone. Like you.” She giggled.
    “Touché,” Evie conceded.
    Glancing at the BlackBerry on her desk, Evie thought about how her smartphone helped drown out the loneliness, almost like the background noise of a rerun she’d committed to memory. Acknowledging that a three-ounce electronic device was substituting for a genuine mate hit a sour note, but Evie was too cognizant of its usefulness to consider quitting the habit.
    “Well have a good time. Don’t forget to save some endangered pocketbooks for me.”
    Evie couldn’t resist. In February, Caroline had purchased a table at “New Yorkers for Wildlife” and convinced Evie to duck out of work for lunch in the Waldorf ballroom. The trouble was that it was minus six degrees outside and most of the ladies were bundled in fur.
    Unsatisfied with Caroline’s dismissal of her angst over Luke, Evie phoned the ever-honest Tracy, hoping to catch her during a free period. After she went straight to voicemail, Evie started to dial Stasia’s number but replaced the receiver midway. It was easier to speak to Caroline and Tracy about this type of thing. Both of them were married, but Caroline’s husband was geriatric and Tracy’s an ambiguously employed loafer. She believed they were both content, but still Evie took some comfort in feelingthat compromises had been made. Relating agonizing dating stories to them was certainly tolerable, usually cathartic.
    Stasia was different. She and Rick were a golden couple—attractive, well educated, from “good” families. They looked like they stepped out of a Slim Aarons photograph.