Chapter 23
Over FaceTime, I filled Natalie in on the last few weeks with Luna—baking cookies, getting her to work through her disappointment by singing “Defying Gravity” with me, reading Magic Tree House on the nights I stayed until bedtime.
“You are so in love with that little girl. It is so cute. Who knew you had this nurturing, maternal side,” Natalie cooed, sipping her wine.
“I’m maternal! I’ve always said I wanted to have kids someday.”
“I know, but that was conceptual; this is real practice.”
“Well, I do love her. She’s the best. And I’m totally turning her into a theater kid.” I said it with pride.
Natalie shook her head lovingly. “Her poor dad.”
“He’s on board…I think.” My cheeks tugged up reflexively thinking about Luke.
“I think you’re in love with her dad, too,” Natalie commented.
“I am not! I’m seeing Max, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. Finance bro. You don’t light up when you talk about him the way you do when you talk about Luke.”
I scoffed. I loved that my best friend read me so well, but sometimes it was very inconvenient.
“Hasn’t there been tension? Deep conversations? A little flirting?” she asked.
“Yes. I mean, I think so. But he hasn’t given me any reason to think he’d ever act on it.” By now I’d convinced myself his pause in the doorway to the guest room couldn’t have been as loaded as I thought. “He knows I’m seeing someone. And he’s…my employer. Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?”
“Eh, I don’t think so. I’m sure he wouldn’t take it lightly, given the situation, but if there are real feelings there—”
“There aren’t. We’re just friends. And you’re right, he wouldn’t want to jeopardize the good relationship I’ve built with Luna and the working relationship I have with him. And I have a boyfriend, so, yeah, no ‘real feelings’ are happening.” I added air quotes for emphasis.
“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as me.” Natalie lifted her perfectly shaped brown eyebrows at me on the screen.
“That’s not true!”
“You doth protest too much, babe.”
“I like Max, and you’ll like him, too. You guys can meet when you visit in a week and a half.
He is so romantic. I’ve never been showered in praise and compliments like this before.
It’s so nice for a change. The other day on the beach he said, ‘My life was just going along, linear, boring, and then suddenly, you were there, like a shooting star landed right in front of me.’ He, like, inherited his dad’s way with words. Isn’t that so sweet?”
She poured another splash of white wine into her tall, stemmed glass and walked over to her dark blue, velvet couch while I spoke.
“It is…” she drawled, like she hadn’t made up her mind yet. She took a sip of her wine and then stared at something off-screen.
“You hesitated,” I accused.
“It just sounds familiar, like it’s out of a movie or something.” Her eyes squinted.
“That’s my whole point! It’s romantic.”
“I’m happy if you’re happy.” She shot me a smile. “In other news, your return-to-work date is around the corner, right? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
I inhaled, inflating my chest, and then blew the breath back out. “Yes. I’m going to quit. For real.”
“That’s great! Why don’t you sound more excited about it?”
“I know I don’t want to go back, and that I want to keep writing. I guess I still feel like a failure. I’m so nervous to tell the partners and my other coworkers. And it makes me feel like the last ten years of hard work were a waste.”
Natalie nodded, chewing on her lip. “If you end up regretting the decision, you could go back to another firm later. Or an in-house job. A resume gap is not a big deal these days. Look at Tyler—he already has an in-house job lined up for the fall, despite taking ten months off.”
“That’s true.” I mulled it over. This decision wasn’t as permanent as it felt.
I could quit for now and take some more time to make sure it was what I really wanted.
I was free to change my mind later, and my background and experience would still get me a job practicing corporate law somewhere else.
The vise on my chest loosened; relief expanded my lungs.
“Okay. I’m doing it,” I said finally, a lilt in my tone.
Natalie’s expression gleamed with pride, like somehow she knew I was doing the right thing.
Curling iron in hand, I was twisting a strand around the hot metal when my phone buzzed on the vanity in my room at Mimi’s house.
Max was due to pick me up in thirty minutes for dinner at some place he wouldn’t share with me because he wanted it to be a surprise.
I carefully placed the curling iron down and answered.
“I’m sorry, I can’t make it to dinner anymore,” Max said. “They moved my meetings from the afternoon to the morning tomorrow, so I have to fly back tonight.”
“Oh, okay. That’s fine. I understand. The client’s schedule takes precedence.” I’d been in his shoes before, so I didn’t blame him, even though I was a little disappointed to miss out on this secret restaurant he’d been teasing.
“That’s what I love about dating a lawyer—I know you get it. You’ll be canceling on me in no time once you’re back to crushing those private equity deals.”
My stomach knotted. I’m quitting on Monday. Ever since my conversation with Luke and then with Natalie I felt like I was lying to Max. I needed to find a way to bring it up.
“Would you want to come to the city this weekend? I’d love to take you to this dinner we’re doing tomorrow night. It includes significant others. It’d be fun to introduce my new girlfriend.” He said it with pride, which only made me feel worse about my immediate reaction: dread.
“Oh, um.”
“I know it’s not that desirable compared to the Vineyard, but we could hit a rooftop bar, spend some time in my apartment…”
The desirability of spending a Saturday tangled in Max’s expensive sheets wasn’t enough to combat the unease I felt about going to a fancy networking dinner with his colleagues and clients.
Part of me wished I’d met Max five or six years ago, when I still lived for the job and needed a boyfriend to support me but also not mind when I had to cancel plans or work all weekend long.
We’d have been a great fit back then, but I was starting to realize that… maybe I wasn’t the same person anymore.
“I don’t think I can this weekend. I told Mimi we’d do something together. But thank you for the invite!” It wasn’t a lie. Mimi and I had talked about going to buy some new plants before the rain came on Sunday, and I was looking forward to it.
A little alarm bell sounded from the recesses of my brain.
Are Max and I compatible? it said. I pushed the thought down, assuring myself that I could enjoy those fancy client dinners again someday, once I’d recovered more, especially if it was Max’s clients and not mine.
I’ll say yes next time, if he invites me again.
“Okay, no problem.” He sounded disappointed. I almost changed my mind to please him, but he went on to say, “We could do something Sunday night, when I’m back?”
“Yes, that would be great.”
“It’s a date then. Wear that green dress I love. I didn’t get to take it off you last time.”
I grinned and shook my head even though he couldn’t see it. “So bold.”
“I can’t see your face right now, but I think you’re smiling.”
“I might be,” I sang.
“Good. Sweet dreams, Val. I hope they’re about me.”
I giggled at him this time, not holding it in. “I’ll let you know. Night, Max.”
I texted Luke the next morning.
Val
Can you recommend someone that could fix Mimi’s front porch stairs? I think a few boards need to be replaced.
Luke
I’ll come take a look this afternoon. What size are the boards?
Val
We can hire someone! And it’s not urgent.
Luke
Board size please.
Val
2 x 5.5
Luke
See you around 1:30.
I shook my head. Of course he would volunteer to do it himself. I should have thought of that. I texted Mimi to let her know and got out of the car to go into the gym.
The gravel in the driveway crunched under Luke’s truck tires at 1:20.
He wore his usual uniform: jeans, boots, a ball cap, and a Karas Construction T-shirt.
At least on days he didn’t have client meetings.
On those days, it was golf pants, a collared shirt, and a cleaner pair of boots.
I liked knowing what he wore every day. I felt like I had some inside scoop that other people didn’t have.
Instead of knocking on the door, he stopped in front of the steps. He examined them with a flashlight and tested each one by lifting them forcibly with his hand and then walking up and down them with heavy steps. I watched from the front window before opening the door.
“Luna’s right,” he said in greeting, “Mimi’s flowers are better than mine.”
“You should see the back,” I teased.
“I don’t know if I want to!”
“Do you need any help? I can…hold tools, or something.”
“Nah, I’m good, but thank you.” He walked over to his truck, dropped the tailgate, and pulled out his massive toolbox, arm muscles flexing. I stood in the threshold, watching.
When he turned and saw me standing there, his mouth quirked up. “Seriously, I got it. Go write, you.”
I smiled. I loved it when he said things like that. “Okay. Come inside if you need anything.”
He gave me a little salute before crouching down and opening his toolbox at the foot of the stairs. It was blazing hot, not a cloud in the sky, the sun beating down like it had a vendetta. I shut the front door and retreated to the safety of the air-conditioned living room.