“Someone on line 3,” came the producer’s voice into Lisa’s earpiece. “Calls himself ‘Perplexed and Distraught’.”

            “Hello. You’re on the air with Dr. Elisa Dorn,” said Lisa.

            “Hello… I’ve never called a radio program before.”

 Lisa listened closely. The voice had a nice ring. “You’ll be fine. Why are you perplexed and distraught?”

            “I’ve always striven for the best in everything.”

            “Most admirable.”

            “In my job, in my hobbies, in taking care of my health, I won’t settle for second best.” The voice was pressing but had a low, soothing quality.

            “So far, I see nothing to be perplexed and distraught about.”

            “I think I’m in love. I’ll call her …Laura. She has a lot to offer but....”

            Lisa turned the bass on her headphones up. “What holds you back?”

            “She is beautiful, sophisticated, charming…She even has a crooked smile I like so much.”

Lisa smiled to herself. “So far, sounds good.”

            “Yes.”

            Lisa took a taste of her Perrier. “Does she know you are attracted to her?”

            “No. We’re acquaintances but not close.”

            “Is she attracted to you?”.

            “I don’t know.”

            “Talk to her and let her know of your interest, in your own way. This doesn’t seem enough to make you perplexed and distraught.”

            “The real problem is that I’m afraid if I go for her, I’ll lose my chance for the great someone.”

Lisa said nothing.

 “Are you there?”

            “Yes… excuse me… I’m getting the signal that we have to take a commercial break. Can you hold, Perplexed and Distraught?” Lisa’s mind groped for a way to help her caller…

            The break ended. “We’re back now. Are you there, Mr. Perplexed?”

            “I’m here.”

            “Spend some time thinking about what you really want. Call me back when you have more thoughts.”

            “Where should I start?”

            “Take guidance from your hobbies, your work.”

            “That won’t be hard. My hobby is my work.”

Lisa hesitated. “Something in that voice,” she thought… “We have to take other calls now but please call back.” She spoke in a whisper.

Lisa Graves turned the overhead florescent and the floor lamp off, leaving only the soft desk light on. The glare off the 8 by 10 still hit her eyes no matter which angle she looked from.

 The black and white glossies had highlighted all her features. She was in the prints… yet she wasn’t. She looked at the wastebasket but then had another idea.

She rode the elevator to the basement, carrying all copies of the photos and the negatives in a manila folder.  She dropped the folder into one of the nearly full trashcans and pressed the lid down on it. The trash men would be making their pick-up within the hour.

The doorman, Karl, stood tall and straight despite his seventy years. Lisa thought that with his weathered, look he should have been a sea captain. Yet he had been here for decades. Had he been too late for the ship… or the shipwreck? He held the door as Lisa, in her sable coat, returned his smile and entered the lobby.

            Across the foyer the elevator opened, and she saw Christopher Wright, the angular brown-haired man from the third floor with the square shoulders and the easy walk. He crossed to the concierge’s corner, carrying an elongated box. He met Lisa’s eye for a split second.

            “Your desk was delivered this morning, sir,” said Kay Small, the concierge.

            “My roll-top?” said Christopher, looking at his box.

            “Shall I have it delivered to your apartment?”

             “I’d like…yes.” He fumbled with the lid, almost dropping it.

            “Do you need help?” Kay glanced at the box and then at Christopher.

            “Well it’s that…” He looked at her. “No, no, not now.” He guided the top back onto the box. “Yes, I’ll be out. But deliver the desk right away. I want to see it when I get back.”

            “As you wish.”

            Christopher turned, watching Lisa as she crossed the lobby toward him. “Mrs. Graves.”

“Forget the Mrs. That’s history. It’s Lisa.”

“Yes.” He held the box out in front in both hands.

“What do you have there?”

“An extra white rose.” He lifted the lid, groped inside, and held the flower out to her. “It would be perfectly set off… against your sable.”

 She took the rose. “What a pleasure to have a florist in the building.”

He smiled and left quickly through the door that Karl still held open.

“Good evening, Mrs. Graves,” Kay said.

The scent of the rose in her left hand excited Lisa. She looked at it and then turned her eyes to the concierge. “Hello, Kay.”

“It’s perfect.” Kay fixed her eyes on the flower and then on Lisa. “It’s you.”

“Do you think so?” Lisa held the rose against her shoulder. “He has a way of being …appropriate.”

“He keeps this lobby alive with just a scattering of flowers.”

“That’s so thoughtful.” Lisa placed her briefcase on Kay’s desk and unbuttoned the sable. “Do the residents appreciate it?”

“The staff does.” Kay sniffed at the bouquet on her desk.

“I wish I had more time for smelling flowers.”

Kay picked the briefcase with the initials “EDG” engraved in gold up and handed it back to Lisa. “I’ve recommended the Dr. Dorn program to a few more people.”

“Thank you,” said Lisa, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “I hope you didn’t let anyone in on our secret.”

“Lisa Graves and Elisa Dorn are two different people as far as the world is concerned…but how long will you maintain this little deception?”

“It’s really my manager’s idea. She thinks it adds to my mystique.”

“You obviously agree.”

“When I do “come out,” mystique won’t matter.”

In her apartment, Lisa laid the white rose on the bureau.  She drew the bottom drawer of the bureau open and pulled a large white envelope from under her camisoles. She lay on the bed and took an 8 by 10 from the envelope.

She stared at the photograph. From the front he resembled Richard Gere, from the side, Tom Cruise, but his picture had been taken some time ago. She called him Richard Cruise. He was certainly older now, if he was even alive, but the face was eternal. She pictured that face over square shoulders and moving with an easy walk.

  “Did you get the gift I sent?” said Perplexed and Distraught.

            “It came this afternoon,” Lisa was looking above her control board at the artificial yellow jasmine plant… It was him!…Christopher…Kay’s recommendation. ...of, course….Lisa’s face glowed.

            “It’s my way of telling you I’ve decided to wait for the great someone.”

Lisa’s head slumped. “But why?”

            “It was the plant. I thought you would understand if you saw it.”

            “Think of Laura. Tell me about her. Do you see her often?”

            “Yes, she lives in my building.”

            “And you never speak to her?”

            “We have little conversations. Nothing substantive.”

             “Why do you think she likes you?”

            “The way she looks at me. She accepts my tiny gifts so graciously.”

            Lisa thought of the white rose. “Is that all?”

            “My doorman told me that she’s asked about me.”

            That Karl, thought Lisa. “You won’t be abandoning the great someone by following through with Laura. It can only help. You will never look back and wonder ‘what if’.”

            “You make it sound easy.”

            “Start with simple conversation.”

            “I will. But I’ll keep my picture of my great someone.”

            “What picture?” Lisa’s breathing slowed.

            “I keep her picture in my roll-top desk.”

            “Who?”

            “She’s not a famous person but I think she’s a model… you know, from a fashion magazine. She has a youthful beauty with mature charm. It comes through in the picture.”

            “Yes…but follow through with Laura.”

            Lisa walked toward the elevator.

            Kay looked up from the stack of papers she was studying. “Man on your mind?”

             “That obvious?”

            Kay tipped her head. “I’ve been there.”

            “Oh yes, your fiancé, the football player. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

            “He and I were in love with the same thing… his image…the one on the cereal box.”

             “He looked like a couple of movie stars.”

            “I broke it off, sort of my divorce.”

            “Is he doing OK?” Lisa’s concern was genuine.

            “He still hasn’t gotten his divorce. He moved to a penthouse on the river.”  

            Lisa sat back on the couch. “So Christopher has a picture of his ideal woman. Maybe his picture is a combination of Julia Roberts and Jodie Foster. They can have each other.”

“He will realize that Jodie Roberts isn’t real and that his woman with the crooked smile is. She turned her head to the mirror. You can hardly see it but he noticed. Lisa placed the rose next to the jasmine. It’s only a matter of time.”

            “My producer tells me we have “Christopher” on line 3. You’re on with Dr. Elisa Dorn. Are you a new caller?” Lisa smiled.

            “It’s me, Doctor Dorn.  Perplexed and Distraught. I’m now Clear and Calm, and it’s your doing.”

            “That’s wonderful. What have you done?”

            “I’m moving out my fantasy world. You’ve shown me what’s genuine.”

 The voice on the line buoyed her spirits. “Give yourself some credit.”

            “The great someone of my fantasy is a big never to be in my life.”

            “You realize that.  It’s a huge step. What will you do?”

            “I’m going to tell Laura what I think of her and then I might just sweep her away.”

             “That’s wonderful. When?”

            “Tonight.”

            “I’ll bet she’ll be there with open arms.”

            Lisa pulled the folder out of the bureau. The picture of Richard Cruise smiled back at her. She went to the fireplace. She touched a match to the corner of the photo. The picture curled in on itself then turned into a shriveled cinder.

Lisa opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Dom Perignon. She poured a glass and sat on the couch.

Lisa awoke at 7:30 am. She poured some champagne from the half-empty bottle. It had long since gone flat. She pulled her robe on and went down to the lobby, knowing Kay would be in by now.

Sam, the night man, was sitting at the concierge’s desk.

Lisa pulled her robe tightly about her shoulders and walked to the desk. “Isn’t Kay in yet?”

“She’s on vacation. May I help, Mrs. Graves?”

 “I saw her yesterday. She didn’t mention a vacation.”

“It was sudden. The Bahamas, I believe. What can I do for you?”

“Do you know Mr. Wright?”

“The florist.”

“He and I had an appointment last night. He didn’t show up.”

“Did you call him?”

“He was to call on me.”

“I’ll call him.” Sam dialed and waited. “No answer.”

Lisa’s clenched fists held on to the robe. Her face was almost colorless. “I’m concerned that he may not be all right. Could you open his door so we can check?”

“Certainly.”

They went to Christopher’s apartment and Sam knocked. When no one answered after several tries, he opened the door and motioned for Lisa to stay outside.

“No one in the living room,” Sam said after a few seconds. “I’ll check the back.” He disappeared through an interior door.

Through the slightly open front door, Lisa saw the roll-top. She pushed through the doorway and ran to the desk. She rolled the desktop up. She saw a manila envelope on a lower shelf and pulled it out with a shaky hand. Slowly she removed a photograph from the envelope.

Sam reentered the living room. “I found this travel folder with a reservation for Nassau, beginning today.”

Lisa didn’t hear him. She made no response. She was staring at the crumpled picture she had pulled out of the envelope. The creases on it had the same pattern as the basement garbage can lids. Lisa Graves was transfixed by the 8 by 10 glossy of Elisa Dorn.

James McAuley has been an Aerospace engineer for over 30 years. He began fiction writing as a hobby and until recently has concentrated on short stories. James has had three of his short stories published and is now working on a novel. He lives with his wife in Virginia.