Excerpt from I See You Made an Effort by Annabelle Gurwitch, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

The only thing is, it's really tough to get the up-against-the-wall thing to work—our heights have to be just right, and he'll need a certain amount of upper-body strength, which he might not have developed working at the Apple store. I'll also need to keep my right leg aloft. If I can find a hotel room that has a rock-climbing wall—we are in Los Angeles, after all—I could anchor myself on a foothold. Yes! I wedge my heel into a foothold a few feet off the ground and pull him inside me.

"You're good to go."

"Yes," I whisper. "I mean, yes?"

His voice is louder than I expected. I look down and see that I'm gripping the counter tightly. My mouth feels dry and my heart is pounding when something soft brushes my arm. It's a strand of hair. I snap my head to the right and see a girl with long straight brown hair. She is standing next to me at the counter. She's dressed in typical California fashion: sneakers, tight gym pants, and hoodie. She's a bit fleshy. She might even be pregnant. Her face is unmistakably young and fresh. Her skin is tan, tight, and creamy. She smells fertile.

"My next customer is here," he says, rotating my computer so I can see the folder he's created for my retrieved documents. He has named it "Old Annabelle."

"What?"

"Listen, if you need anything else," he says as he motions to another Genius, "Logan can take care of you."

"But, but . . ."

He points to the Apple screen and then to the luscious girl. "I've got to move on."

It falls to Logan Genius to move the items from the "Old Annabelle" folder into a new one that I've suggested we name "Vintage Annabelle." With a swift click, the offending word disappears. I am careful not to engage Logan in any small talk.

As Logan wraps up with tips on how to keep my computer as good as new, I catch sight of AuDum heading toward the exit. His shift must be over. The Apple shirt is gone, a nondescript T-shirt in its place. Out of his uniform, he looks different. His pants taper down his calves and stop just above his ankles in a way I find unflattering on someone past puberty. He has a slight lilt to his gait, as if his feet aren't solidly touching the ground. He gives me a little wave. It has a slightly reluctant quality to it. AuDum has sorted the clutter on my desktop, skimmed my documents and scanned through my most private emails. He knows everything about me there is to know without being intimate, but I can tell by the wave and his red high-top Keds that we will not be hooking up. AuDum leaves. I feel a bit sad but also extremely relieved.

AuDum goes home, heats up some ramen and takes out his sketchbook. He lies on his bed and starts to draw a woman. It's a woman with brown hair. The brunette in the hoodie. He's captured her inner glow. I have also made the picture. The side of my head hugs the corner of the frame, just out of focus. They will meet tonight for a drink. If that goes well, in two weeks they'll be at a rave, dancing to dubstep, somewhere in the desert. I hope they don't go and fall in love. After all, she might be pregnant and he really should move to Norway.

"Since you went away the days grow long, and soon I'll hear old winter's song." I hear the sound of the walking jazz bass line coming from my son's room. "But I miss you most of all, my darling, when autumn leaves start to fall."

Excerpted from I See You Made an Effort by Annabelle Gurwitch. Copyright © 2014 by Annabelle Gurwitch. Excerpted by permission of Blue Rider Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.