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said, peeking into his cubicle. Claudia had emailed Fred frequently over the years but had never taken the trip up to the fourth floor to meet him in person.
    “Yes?” Fred looked a bit startled sitting there behind his desk, far from the hustle and bustle of the lower floors filled with account executives and art directors.
    “Hi. I’m Claudia from downstairs.”
    “Oh, yes, Claudia. What can I do for you?”
    At first, Fred didn’t make much of an impression on Claudia. But when she took a closer look she noticed his beautiful green eyes, and she thought she detected a nicely shaped biceps lying underneath that crisp white oxford shirt.
    “One of our vendors has been waiting three months for his check. I figured it must have gotten lost, so I’m bringing up another copy of his invoice.”
    “Oh. I see.” Fred took the invoice from Claudia, still appearing a little confused. “You know, you can just email invoices to me if you want,” he said, waving the piece of paper in the air as if it was a useless artifact from a bygone era.
    “I know,” said Claudia, “but I thought it would be nice to meet you.”
    “Really?” Fred smiled, exposing a nice straight row of teeth. “Wow. I don’t think any of you guys have ever ventured up to the fourth floor. And certainly not just to meet me! I’m honored.”
    “Aw, shucks, Fred. Don’t tell me you have an accounts-payable complex.” Claudia stepped into the cubicle and sat on a portion of the desk.
    “Well, yeah. I guess I do. You creative types intimidate me.” Fred scooted his chair back a bit, making room for Claudia.
    “Creative types? Ha! You obviously have no idea what I do.”
    “Then maybe you can explain it to me sometime,” said Fred, his initial shyness beginning to evaporate.
    The fact that Claudia didn’t wear a wedding ring—she simply didn’t like rings—had never posed any problems during her thirteen-year marriage to Steve, since she always had a wall around her that served the purpose of keeping men at a distance. But now that she was opening herself up to new people and being so friendly, she realized that wedding rings can perform an important function.
    “Once I figure out what the hell I do, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Claudia laughed nervously, standing up and backing out of the cubicle. “Well, I should head downstairs. Come and visit sometime,” she added, regretting it once she did. Was she leading him on?
    That evening Claudia went home in such a good mood, she forgot to transform into her bitchy self for Steve. So for the first time in months, she was actually kind of nice to him.
    “Hey, Steve, how’s it going?”
    Steve looked up from the sofa where he was watching TV, startled by his wife’s lack of venom. “Fine?” he asked, not sure whether this was real or some kind of trap.
    “Watching the news? That’s good.” Claudia sat down on the arm of the sofa. “Man, I haven’t watched the evening news in forever. Who they got now? Peter Jennings? I love Peter Jennings.”
    “Um, Claudia, Peter Jennings died years ago.”
    “That’s right. He was just so … so timeless. You know? Like he was never going to die. But we all die, don’t we? So no point in frittering away our time.”
    “Look, Claudia, don’t start. I was only just sitting here—”
    “Oh, no, Steve,” Claudia practically shouted. He had totally misunderstood. “I wasn’t saying anything about you. Just thinking about life and how it’s over before we know it. That’s all. You know me. I get that way sometimes.”
    Steve knew all too well the many moods of Claudia. The contemplative Claudia, the boisterous Claudia, the I’m-having-an-existential-crisis Claudia, the I-hate-everyone Claudia, and, most recently, the I-love-everyone Claudia. Yes, she was moody, but Steve was the one person who was able to handle her wild swings.
    Claudia had always been a “handful,” as her parents liked to put it. She was outspoken and strong