Chapter 52
THE TIME I WENT ON TOUR
REMY
I peel off my maid of honor dress before midnight and hang it up in the closet, finding just the right spot, then running a hand down it since I don’t want to let go of it.
I miss Lake so much. But I have to move on.
Turning around, I tug on a T-shirt and leggings, but I don’t get into bed.
I get to work.
I worked after Jameson broke up with me publicly.
This time, though, I don’t need work for a hideout. I need it for a future. I stay up late, researching, outlining, planning.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, and this PowerPoint won’t be either.
But I can start a new foundation, even while this missing burrows under my skin.
* * *
I’m a bit of a broken record, but I have to answer for the con job. The next day I sit across from Daniel at lunch at Happy Cow, a restaurant in Hayes Valley, and say the words that might as well be tattooed on my tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Daniel drags a hand through his sleek hair and laughs. It sounds self-deprecating. “I gotta say, I have a pretty good bullshit detector, and I didn’t see that coming.”
Yeah, I thought it was going to be real too. “I should have told you. As a friend. Not just as a boss,” I say, wishing I didn’t have to produce so many mea culpas, but knowing that’s the price I have to pay.
He holds up a hand. “Actually, you don’t need to tell me if it’s fake or real as a boss. That’s not really anyone’s business at work. But you’re right. I think of you as a friend, and I feel a little misled.”
I take that on the chin. “That’s fair. I understand,” I say, folding and unfolding the napkin on the table.
“Make that a lot,” he admits quietly, his brow knitting.
“I was rooting for you two. As a couple, I felt like every time we talked about it, we were…” He sighs, his mouth turned down, “Speaking the same language. I gave you advice. I wanted to see it work out for you because I care about you. I asked how it was going as a friend.”
His disappointment is the sharp edge of a knife. I let so many people down. “I know. And it probably doesn’t matter that it felt like I was speaking the truth. Since even though it started as fake, it became real for me.”
“Oh, Remy,” he says, shifting gears, his voice filled with sympathy. “That’s rough.”
But this meeting isn’t about him feeling bad for me.
My throat tightens and tears prick the back of my eyes, but I hold my head up high, choosing honesty over perfect appearances.
“I could’ve told you the truth. I don’t have an excuse, except that it was fake and we were trying to make sure nobody would find out.
I was going to tell you all this the other day, including that I had feelings for him, but I didn’t, so my intentions don’t really matter. ”
“I get it. Love is…hard. Really hard.”
A mirthless laugh escapes me. “It honestly is.”
There’s a pause, heavy, uncomfortable, as servers circulate around the table, depositing plates of pasta and sandwiches and taking orders. Doing all these normal things, while I try to claw my way out of a hole that I shoveled myself into.
“I guess we should still talk about the job though,” he says, but his voice sounds flat. This lunch feels obligatory. Daniel is a man of his word. He promised he’d talk to me about the full-time position and he’s doing just that. That doesn’t mean I’m going to get the job. Or keep mine.
Still, he’s here, and the floor is mine.
“I’d like to be considered for it,” I say, because you can’t always clean up your messes before people see them.
Sometimes you clean them up in front of other people.
“I understand you probably aren’t even considering me now, but I want you to know I’ve already put together all the concepts for the Hockey Is for Everyone initiative. I finished it last night.”
He blinks a few times. “You did? I only told you about it a few days ago.”
“I was excited. I worked on it in between other things. I’m very efficient.
” I started it right away, working on it the night he told me about the initiative, then the next day, right through to last night.
“It’s not complete, but I think it’ll give you a good start.
I know this is just part of my regular job, and I hope that I can keep that too, but even if I can’t, even if you need to let me go, I believe in the mission and I want whoever gets the job to be able to execute this initiative,” I say, and then I take out my phone and I hit send.
“It’s yours now for whatever you want to do with it. ”
After an awkward meal, we return to the office and go our separate ways. I try not to look at the locker room, the rink, the equipment room. Not that I’d see Lake anyway. The team flew to Los Angeles today for a game tomorrow afternoon. It’s for the best.
If I ran into him here, I don’t know what I’d say or do. Instead, I work, keenly aware the whole time that it might be one of my last days in this arena.
And the whole time, I’m missing Lake and what I thought we were becoming.
* * *
I’m almost done with my tour of truth. That’s what Clem and Mabel call it in our group chat.
Clementine: Are you doing it today?
Mabel: We should celebrate afterward.
Remy: Oh yeah, I’m totally in the mood to celebrate.
Mabel: Cookies are always a good idea.
Clementine: Facts.
Remy: And yes, I’m ready. I’m at her office now.
It’s Tuesday afternoon. I’ve finished work for the day, and the team is losing to Los Angeles.
I’ve heard nothing from Daniel all day about the job, and I’m pretty sure he’s been interviewing other candidates based on the tailored blouses and slacks and sports jacket attire I’ve seen from those heading into his office on and off throughout the day.
I can’t control what he decides.
But I can control what I do next.
And when I sink down on Elena’s cushy gray couch, my gaze straying briefly to the painting of the snowy cabin above her head, I rip off the Band-Aid.
“I haven’t been truthful with you.”
“Oh?” The question is asked with curiosity and without judgment.
And I tell her everything about my romance with Lake, how it started, and how it ended.
A small, pleased smile shifts her lips.
“Why are you smiling?” I ask.
“Because you’re being upfront. That’s how we start.”
A start. A real start. “Okay. I’ll keep being honest.”
“Not just with me though. With others. Like Lake. Do you think you were honest with him?”
It’s like a kick in the gut even though I don’t think she meant it that way.
Because the answer is no.