Chapter 21 #3
“Fair enough,” I said softly. But hearing I was someone he could trust with his confessions was a necessary antidote for the way I had been feeling since Simon fired me.
My phone lit up on the lacquered bar top with a text from Gemma, but I didn’t check it. I suddenly hoped she was taking her time.
“I used to be busy all the time. But now.” He made a poof motion with his hands, like the reveal of a magic trick. “I did the thing. Sold the company. Climbed the mountain. Now, I wake up and wonder if I’m supposed to take up woodworking or something.”
“I think you’re supposed to be building a bunker in Colorado.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “It’s a very obnoxious thing to confess—”
“No.” I stopped him. “I actually know exactly what you mean.” The anxiety built over weeks of obsessing about how I would tell people I had lost my job washed over me in a rush, and I decided to rip the Band-Aid off clean. “I don’t work for Simon anymore.”
Beau blinked. “Wait—really?”
“Yep.”
“No offense, but when I looked you up, I kind of got the impression you wouldn’t leave unless someone pried your laptop from your cold, dead hands.”
“That was the original plan. Then life as I knew it imploded.”
His face fell. “You want to talk about it?”
I liked the spark in his eyes that looked like a promise, an offering to keep my secret.
But that didn’t mean I was ready to open up about Simon.
Because opening up about Simon meant revisiting how hard I had worked for him, how much I had given up for Redwood, and the fact that Simon fired me out of the blue anyway.
Not to mention the mortifying detail that I was sleeping with him.
“I literally never want to talk about it.”
The idea of ethical, successful, charming Beau finding out I was dumb enough to sleep with my boss made me so anxious I downed the rest of my soda.
He didn’t ask for more information. Just took a sip of his drink.
“Well,” he said after a beat, “welcome to the existential void.”
“Oh, thank you. I love it here.” I smirked. “I have so much free time these days. Which is useful. I get a lot of ‘me’ time for self-care and shit.”
“Oh yeah? What do you get up to? I could use a hobby.”
“Mostly I hide in my house like a gremlin while Postmates keeps me alive. Sometimes I drink wine. I found a gummy in my medicine cabinet the other day. That was a big night.”
He laughed. “Look at us. Two highly functioning adults making excellent life choices.”
Funny. He had everything and felt like nothing. I had nothing and felt about the same.
But I bet he’s not worried about getting a new job like I am. I bet he’ll never worry about something so common ever again.
He finished his drink.
Then Beau tilted his head and said, “So we’re clear, you know my thing is way worse, right?”
This made me laugh out loud. And it was a relief to let some of the pressure off. The tension in my muscles unwound a fraction. “Your thing?” I asked once I had caught my breath. “The thing where you sold your company for billions.”
“Exactly.” He tapped the bar with his open palm. “That company was my whole life.”
“Sounds like the only thing left to do is vanish into a compound in Topanga and start raising goats.”
He flashed a wry smile. “Tempting.”
My phone dinged again, and I opened it this time.
3:58 P.M.
You and Beau are looking verrrrry cozy. I’ll take a raincheck on our drinks. Please kiss him tonight and then tell me everything.
Our barstools were almost touching, and I prayed Beau hadn’t seen the message.
“Sorry,” I said. “Looks like Gemma’s not coming.”
“Should we get another round?” he suggested, looking pleased by the news.
It was an appealing offer. But I wasn’t sure I could trust myself around Beau. I couldn’t risk blurting out the fact that I had been sleeping with Simon before he cast me aside.
I’ll never be able to tell anyone.
I shook my head. “Thanks, though.”
“You know what we need?” Beau said, after a long, quiet moment. “A project. Something dumb. Paddleboarding. Candle making. Truffle hunting. I don’t care.”
I looked over at him. “You’re proposing we become the kind of people who go to candle workshops?”
“I’m proposing we stop letting our careers run our lives. We’ll go try on new personalities until one sticks.”
“You want to go on a personality quest with me?”
“Side quests,” he said. “We need something new to get irrationally invested in.” He was already opening his phone. “There’s embroidery, surfing, upcycling…”
“You know we’re only replacing one fixation with another, right?” I said, but I was giggling.
“Please don’t argue with me when I’m solving our problems with a masterstroke.
” Beau didn’t look up from his research.
“Okay,” he said, his thumbs moving quickly across the keys of his phone.
“We’re officially signed up for a sunset Segway tour of Santa Monica this weekend.
Maybe our new personalities include helmets and liability waivers. ”
I smiled before I could stop myself.
Beau Walker is going to save me with side quests?
I doubted it. But I couldn’t deny the way he eased the loneliness that had been gnawing at me for weeks.