Free Let Us Eat Cake by Destiny Moon

imaginable, and I was surprised to find that I was even kind of fashionable in my own way. I’d gotten accustomed to sewing my own clothes back home and here women stopped me on the streets.
    “Where’d you get that gorgeous retro dress?” one lady asked.
    I showed off my A-frame hem. “This old thing? I made it.”
    “No way!” she said. “You should start your own business.”
    “Would people buy stuff like this?” I asked.
    “Are you kidding? I will. I’ll be your first customer.”
    So that was how I came to know Dalia, who became my first friend since I’d left Utah and my old married life behind. Dalia came over for tea on Sundays, took me to the movies and even talked about that dreaded topic—men.
    “Are you seeing anyone yet?” she asked one weekend.
    I shook my head. “There’s this one guy at work, but he only talks to me for a minute at a time.”
    “Is he cute?”
    “I think so.”
    “Ask him out.”
    “I could never do that.”
    “Maya, you’re going to have to do something sooner or later. You’re way too awesome to be a spinster forever.”
    “A divorcée,” I corrected. “Nothing wrong with being single.”
    “I know there’s nothing wrong with it, but don’t you want the thrill of a new lover? The swoon of being in a man’s arms again?”
    She sounded so enthusiastic I felt myself blush. “I don’t know if they’re worth the trouble.”
    “Who’s this guy at work?”
    “His name’s Hunter.”
    “Don’t you sometimes picture yourself in his embrace?”
    “Well, yeah,” I capitulated. I did. I also dreamed about him. Every now and then, I’d find myself daydreaming about what it’d be like to fall asleep in his arms or wake up to him. I wondered what his place looked like and whether he had a girlfriend or wife.
    “So talk to him.”
    “And say what?”
    “Anything. Tell him you like his name. Tell him you want him to hunt you.”
    I laughed. There was no way I was doing that.
    But the following week, just as he passed my desk, something came over me.
    I blurted, “So what do you hunt, Hunter?”
    Immediately I blushed. With any luck, he didn’t hear it . But he stopped, picked up my paperweight and held it in his hands. It seemed so forward that he felt right at home touching one of my possessions.
    “That depends,” he said, smiling.
    “On?”
    “What’s available?”
    “Oh,” I said, then followed it with a nervous giggle.
    I thought he’d leave and our interaction would be over and I could go back to my private world to analyze every detail of what he’d said. I was not used to men flirting. I was pretty sure he had been. Instead, he stayed by my desk, eyeing me. It was like he was scanning my other stationery, looking for something to hold.
    “What are you doing on Friday night?” he asked.
    “Me? I have no plans.” Other than filing my nails.
    “Would you like to have dinner with me?”
    Holy moly. This was the kind of thing that happened in movies, not in my life. Sure, Hunter was no Brad Pitt, but I preferred the Patton Oswalts anyway.
    “Yes,” I said. “That would be nice. It’ll be my first here in Boston.”
    “Your first dinner? I don’t believe that.”
    I thought he was trying to trip me up with that comment. It took me a moment to realize he was joking around with me. Everything was in slow motion because I was nervous.
    “My first date,” I said. “I mean, if that’s what it is. A date, I mean.”
    He put the paperweight down again and tilted his head to one side like he couldn’t understand what I said. “A pretty gal like you? First date? Really?”
    I nodded.
    “Huh. I guess I should have asked you out when I first wanted to. You caught my eye right away when you started.”
    “I did?”
    “Yeah. And it’s been what? Three months now?”
    “Four and a half.”
    “I better snatch you up before anyone else tries to,” he said. “So, Friday. How about I pick you up around seven?”
    “Sure.” I was aflutter at