Chapter 19
STUPID. She was so incredibly stupid.
In less than three months, she’d let herself get so wrapped up in a relationship that its loss was unfathomable. How could she let herself fall in love with someone who had more issues than the run of National Geographic ?
Relationships, solid and meaningful relationships, took time to develop. They took dates to the movies and introductions to friends and family. They took careful negotiation of boundaries. Anything that moved too quickly was sure to flame out.
And it had. Flamed out. Spectacularly.
Her loathing wasn’t limited to herself. She was almost twenty-six years old, still practically a child when it came to relationships. Erik should’ve known better. Even if he decided he didn’t love her, he claimed to care about her. He never should’ve started this whole enterprise if he cared so much about her. It was better to be a distant angel than a jerk who led her on so callously. Holding her back? Who was he to decide what was best for her? He never understood her frustration with him being a control freak for a second. She was so mad, she’d laugh in his face if he came back and begged for another chance. She’d mock him with impunity.
She would…maybe cave. But she’d hate herself for it .
The wind tunnel created by the city streets was biting as she made her way to the office on Monday— after Erik tore her heart apart. Around this time of year, certain districts in the city became ghost towns as the professionals made their way to sunnier climates or the homes of relatives in the surrounding suburbs. Schools would close in the next few days for the winter break, and the only people left in the city would be tourists and those unlucky few whose work didn’t end even at Christmas. That included her, Marie, Cynthia, and the rest of the team at the Gardner Opera House.
She resolved to take off a few days in the new year after the January tenth board meeting. She hadn’t used any of her allotted vacation time yet. She didn’t have the money to go anywhere warm but had enough saved for a few nights in DC. Some of her college friends lived there. They could go out drinking, and she’d make it her mission to chat up as many men as possible. She’d dance to crappy music and shout until her voice was gone. Maybe then she’d feel slightly better about Erik Gardner and what an idiot she was to fall for him.
She didn’t want to be sad. Last night, she’d given in to her immediate impulse to cry. Still, those tears weren’t the satisfying ones of mourning she initially craved. They were filled with the rage that fueled her now. She wouldn’t be sad. Sad didn’t help anything. Anger fueled her need to move on with her life, just as it had when her college dreams went up in smoke. Anger would fuel the next four months of grad school. Anger would fuel finding a fabulous job outside of New York. Anger would take her to London, Paris, or Japan. She’d be angry as long as she could until she didn’t remember Erik Gardner and how he looked at her with those sad eyes and loved her so well.
Fuck him. Let him be sad all he wanted. She’d be angry .
“Good news!” Cynthia’s voice rang out as she entered the small office lunchroom. Christine eyed her salad, spearing the leaves with an odd relish. “I just closed a diamond-level sponsorship for the gala next week!”
“This late in the game? That’s excellent, Cynthia.” Marie nodded, impressed. “Who’s the contributor?”
“I closed the deal with the Cantor family at their holiday party this past Saturday.” She gave Christine a pointed look, as if to say, while you were singing, I was getting the job done .
“Congratulations,” Christine offered without feeling.
“The Cantor family is an impressive addition to our donors,” Marie complimented.
“Agreed. I’ve known Philip and Keri for years. They’re excited to attend—they’ll expect a table on the ballroom level. Shall I send you their attendee names, Christine?”
Christine nodded. “I’ll get the table cards made up for them.”
“We’ll also need to add them to the signage for the event. Will we have time to do so?”
“I’ll get it done. I have a call with the graphic designer and print shop at two.”
“We might officially be sold out of tables now,” Marie said. “Just a few single tickets left. This was great work by all of us. I’m proud of both of you.”
Cynthia paused. Receiving unguarded praise seemed to have taken the wind out of her sails. Her face would’ve been comical had Christine been in a better mood.
By the afternoon, Christine decided anger might be better than caffeine to help her finish a task quickly. Whenever her traitorous brain flickered to Erik, she redoubled her efforts. Spreadsheets were compiled. Slide decks designed. Auction clipboards constructed. By 5:00 p.m., she had done at least two days’ work. Without asking, she left for the day, the pile of completed work the only sign she’d been there. The gala was in thirteen days. She was tired of waiting for it.
She was tempted to return to the office when she reached the lobby. What was she going to do until 9:00 a.m. tomorrow morning? Her apartment felt so small now. There was no satisfying way to pace in 250 square feet. She didn’t want to walk around the city and force herself to see the jolly tourists. Maybe she’d go to a movie? There were enough serious films out for Oscar season, but she couldn’t summon the energy to attend a two-hour movie. Perhaps a bar?
“Christine!” She turned at the sound of a familiar voice to see Reza Khan walking swiftly toward her. She started to walk away from him, not eager to converse with anyone attached to Erik. “Please, Christine!” He caught up with her and lightly touched her elbow. She pulled away from him.
“I don’t feel like talking to you, Reza.” She threw her purse over her shoulder and turned away.
“I don’t understand. I came to find you because I thought you might know. I went to Erik’s apartment this morning. His doorman told me he isn’t seeing anyone.”
She narrowed her eyes at Reza. Joe said that? “Well, you have your answer.” She started walking.
“Wait, please. Erik and I had an argument on Saturday. He was quite angry with me and told me he was leaving to get you in Long Island. We haven’t spoken since.”
“Well, that makes both of us, since Erik ended things with me that night.” She focused on the anger. The anger was keeping her from being concerned. If Erik chose to kick people out of his life, that was his problem, not hers.
“He what?” Reza blinked at her stupidly. “That’s not possible.”
“I can assure you it happened. ”
“Listen, Christine, Erik’s not in his right mind at the moment. Please let me explain. I’m sure he will come to his senses soon.”
“It’s probably better he doesn’t. I don’t want to hear anything that’s going to make me feel pity for him. Right now, I just want to focus on getting through the next few weeks.”
“I understand you’re hurt.” His demeanor was increasingly frantic and, could it be, guilty? “But Erik, he does this. He goes through these moments of madness, but he always comes back. Sooner or later, he’ll be on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.”
“Reza, I don’t know what happened between you and Erik on Saturday, but I promise you, what he did to me wasn’t your fault. Erik’s an adult, and he made his decision. If he couldn’t separate his issues with you and me, he shouldn’t have been in a relationship in the first place. If his affection for me is conditional on his mood, well—I don’t want to be in a relationship like that.”
Reza grew silent, his face etched with sadness. “I…”
“Reza, let’s leave Christine alone. I’m sure she’s had a rough enough couple of days, eh?” Meg put a long arm around Christine’s shoulders. Her pulled-back hair suggested she was coming from rehearsal.
“Meg, I need her help.”
“The only person Christine needs to help right now is Christine. Kindly go.” Her eyes were firm, her body erect, appearing far taller than her 5’2” frame. Reza huffed in frustration but seemed to realize he didn’t have a choice. He slunk off, his hands in his coat pockets. After watching him go, Meg turned Christine to face her, holding her at arm’s length with her hands on Christine’s shoulders. “Do you wanna grab a drink with me?”
Christine gathered herself and cleared her throat. A drink sounded just right. Maybe several. “ Yes, please.”
As the distance between them and the opera house grew, Christine studied her friend. “We don’t have to do this. I know Erik’s your cousin. I don’t want to put you in the middle of everything.”
“First, you’re not putting me in the middle of anything. Second, I’m your friend, and I can simultaneously be your friend and Erik’s cousin. Sisters before misters. Finally, my cousin is an idiot. I love the guy, but I can love him and understand his stubbornness has created an untenable situation for you and Reza. Reza has spent too long being my cousin’s keeper, and it’s become a codependent situation. Erik needs to man up and get some real help.”
Christine followed her, keeping her mouth shut. If she started talking about Erik, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. Let Meg vent her frustrations.
“There’s a good bar down this block.” Meg guided Christine toward a hidden doorway in a building resembling a brownstone. “Lots of dancers and singers like to come here after shows.” The bar’s interior was a dark red wood that looked black in the dim light. The bar took up most of the front room, with a narrow walkway to the back where Christine could see a handful of tables and a small stage with an upright piano. Three people were drinking in the front room and conversing at low volume with the occasional burst of laughter. Meg led Christine to the back.
Along the wall were framed posters of famous ballet, opera, and Broadway musical productions, interspersed with headshots and candid photos of some of the stars from them. One poster called her attention— Gounod’s Faust , starring Ellen Gardner. The black-and-white image for the poster had been retouched to include color. Ellen was portraying Marguerite, bedecked in jewels. The image was compelling—Christine could almost hear the image singing “Jewel Song. ”
“Meg, come see this,” Christine called. “That’s your grandmother, isn’t it?”
“How about that? Never noticed before.” Meg pulled out her phone and took a picture of it to send to her mother.
“Your grandfather must’ve really loved her to buy the entire opera house for her.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Grandpa was from an old money family. It wasn’t looked on kindly for him to take up with a singer. People were still snobby about that stuff back then. I’m told Grandpa didn’t care a lick. He was going to support her no matter what his parents thought. The fact that he bought the opera house meant all of society had to kiss his butt or he’d cancel their memberships. Any perceived slight, and they were out.” She used a hand to create a slashing moment against her throat.
“Remind me not to mess with your grandpa.”
“We’ll he’s been dead for forty years, so you’re probably fine on that front.”
Christine ordered a rum and Coke, partially because Erik had created the no-caffeine rule and that tiny rebellion felt good, and partially because it had always been her favorite drink. It went down smooth as silk, and before she knew it, she was ordering a second one.
“Hey, slow down there,” Meg cautioned.
“Don’t tell me what to do. Had too much of the bossy Gardner family lately.”
“Is that how it is?” Meg raised an eyebrow. “You ready to talk about it?”
Christine shrugged. Talk about what? How much she missed Erik? She doubted she’d get through one sentence without caterwauling. But she could talk about her fears. Four months ago, she had a plan. But she gave up that dream for Erik the minute they started dating—perhaps even the minute she saw his face. She hadn’t minded until now. He was worth more than Gardner Industries. But now he was gone, and her dream had evaporated, the idea of success further away than ever.
“For so long, everything was about graduation and getting a job offer from Gardner. When Erik and I began seeing each other, I knew it was in my best interest to look elsewhere, but that was okay because I was happy with him. Now I’m feeling a bit adrift…and sad.”
“Not adrift—you might be a boat without a destination, but you still have everything necessary to make things happen. You’re not hopeless—you can have any opportunity you care to pursue. It’s not like your degree and experience are somehow useless now.”
“That was always my father’s plan. If he was making music, he was happy. But where did that leave me when he died? Alone in foster care. He didn’t plan. I wanted to do better than him.”
“What makes you think you’ll be like your father? Based on what you told me, he didn’t know how to balance a checkbook, but he was happy. Why can’t you take that lesson from him? Be happy…and balance your checkbook, have a 401(k) and health insurance. But first and foremost, ask yourself—what would make me happiest?”
“Your cousin made me happy. I didn’t know I could be happy like that with another person. But maybe it was just an illusion.” Her lower lip extended, and she bit down to distract herself from the tears that threatened her.
“I know you made him happy too…or at least as much as he’s capable of happiness,” Meg muttered under her breath. “My cousin is an idiot.”
“I want to be happy, but I don’t want to be rudderless. I want my boat to go somewhere….with purpose.”
“It will,” Meg said earnestly, reaching for Christine’s hand. “You know, for someone who once told me she wasn’t a normal twenty-five-year-old, you’ve got the quarter-life crisis thing down pat.”
“Lucky me.” Christine took a long sip of her drink.
“Hey—stop that. You’re about to graduate with a degree from one of the country’s best business schools. You might lack direction, but you have one hell of a boat.”
Christine mulled over Meg’s words and nodded with her lips wrapped around the cocktail straw. She was a mighty boat. She was the QE2!
“You’re right. You know…job recruitment starts next month. I was going to stay in the city, but now… I’ve lived here my entire life. It’s time to spread my wings!” She spread her arms like a demented eagle and nearly knocked over a waitress carrying drinks to another table.
“Okay there, Big Bird. This place is not that large.” Meg paused. “Where would you want to go?”
“Dunno. I only speak English, and that limits me. So…the US, Canada, England…”
“Ireland… Australia…” Meg added.
“Ooh, Australia. Australia has always been on my bucket list.”
“It’s half a world away,” Meg said sadly.
“It’s practically an entirely new world. Maybe that’s what I need. This city is starting to feel haunted to me. Everywhere I go, I see the life I lost.”
“Christine…I’m going to offer some unsolicited advice. Look into jobs in Australia and England, wherever else you’re thinking about, but don’t rush to a decision. Graduation is still five months away. A lot can happen in five months.”