“But that doesn’t rule out law as a career.”
He sighs. “It probably rules out making money at it, though.”
“You can room with Max,” I tease.
He grins at me. “Don’t think I won’t kick your chair over just because you’re a girl.”
I laugh hard, and in the moment being with him feels right, and easy, and slightly miraculous, as if I’ve finally lined up all the notches and ended up in the perfect place.
Except nothing is perfect, because tomorrow he’ll become that other version of himself. Terse and tense. While I don’t want these moments between us to ever end, it’s as if he’s hell-bent on making sure they do.
Chapter 9
I work the lunch shift and am sitting downstairs in my uniform afterward when Max comes home.
“See?” he says approvingly. “Feels like a second skin now, huh?”
“It’s tight as one anyway,” I laugh. In spite of his constant references to dating me (well, actually “dating” is a somewhat unspecific term for what he references), he is harmless. We have an easy back-and-forth, a kind of Luke-and-Leia vibe that could never be more than friendship. “I can’t change. Ginny’s video chatting with Alex in the room.” It seems like every time I go up there she’s talking to either Alex or Allison.
“You mean like naked video-chatting?” he suggests.
“No!” I laugh. “Oh my God. Not in a million years would either of them do that. Especially not Alex.”
“That guy’s a loser,” Max says dismissively.
“No,” I argue. “He’s a good guy. And he’s like Ginny’s alter ego. They’re so alike they scare me sometimes.”
“Yeah. That’s perfect. I bet the two of them can get together and have no fun for hours or even days at a time,” he says. “In my opinion, the last thing she needs is to date someone just like herself.”
“You know Ginny,” I sigh. “Her goals come first.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Campbell meant well, but in my opinion they were colossal fuck-ups as parents. Happiness isn’t even a consideration for anyone in that family.”
“That’s not true,” I argue reflexively, but begin to question myself even as I say it.
“Sure it is,” he replies. “Ginny and James both have these huge lists of things they have to do, and things they can’t allow themselves to do, and they assume that they’ll be happy in the end for all of it, but I think really they’re just going to come to the end and discover that they wanted the wrong things. You’re a little like that too – you spend so much time invested in some hypothetical future that you miss the moment you’re in.”
“That’s very philosophical, Max,” I smile. I’m teasing but in a way I’m impressed. Every once in a while, when he’s alone, he says things that imply there’s actually some thought behind his consume-and-fuck everything in sight attitude.
He grins at me. “I keep a few of those in my back pocket. They’re good for seducing girls from liberal arts schools.”
“If the girls you’ve brought home so far have ever set foot on a college campus I’d be shocked.”
He nods. “I do try to avoid that.”
I give up on ever getting into my room and decide to shower out back. Max walks with me, extolling the virtues of meditation and living in the moment. It’s not until we’re on the deck stairs that I realize James is lying in the backyard doing sit-ups. Shirtless. He seems to have twice the number of muscles a human torso should contain. And his arms … flexed as he pulls forward … Jesus. I’m pretty sure modern science hasn’t even come up with a name for all of the muscles in his arms. He may be a new species entirely. My legs go boneless and I find myself gripping the stair rail to make sure I stay upright.
“Well, well,” whispers Max, startling me. “It looks like Ginny isn’t the only one on the cusp of her sexual awakening.”
I narrow my eyes. “I was just startled.”
“Sure,” he laughs. “I always drool when I’m startled too.”
Chapter 10
I get another call from NYC the next morning. It’s amazing how many things I’m capable of thinking in the seconds it takes to answer:
Maybe it’s already blown over. Maybe I can go back.
But I don’t want to leave James.
That’s stupid. He has a girlfriend.
A girlfriend he never, ever mentions.
But he doesn’t seem to want you here either.
“Hello?”
“Eleanor.” Edward’s voice is deep and unmistakable.
“Hi, Edward.” Everyone at the kitchen table turns toward me. I’d like to walk out to the deck, but that might imply I have something to hide.
“I’m so sorry you have to go through this,” he says.
I’m still pissed, but I remember my mother’s advice — be smart, not defiant. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “This whole thing is insane.”
“It is. It is,” he murmurs soothingly. Of course he can afford to soothe. He still has a job. “We’re going to find you something else as soon as possible.”
Relief floods me. “I’d really appreciate anything you can do,” I tell him.
“Why don’t I come by tomorrow night and we’ll talk? You live at your dad’s place off 55th, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling my stomach drop. “But I’m out of town.” Is it what I should have said? Probably not. But in the moment my mind was blank.
“No problem,” he says. “I’ll call you next week.”
I lay the phone down on the counter, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
“What did he say?” asks Ginny.
I shrug. “He’s going to find me something else.”
James’s voice comes next, low and suspicious. “Then why don’t you look happy?”
“He wanted to come to my dad’s place to ‘discuss’ it with me.”
I hear James’s hiss from across the room. “If I ever run into that guy, he’s going to discuss it with my fist.”
Max is more sanguine. “She’s a pretty girl, James. It won’t be the first or last time it happens. Consider this her chance to learn how to deal with it.”
“Girl is the key word,” James growls. “He’s old enough to be her grandfather.”
That’s a bit of a stretch, unless Edward was getting busy in middle school, but what I like less is the fact that James seems bound and determined to see me as a child.
Chapter 11
At the end of my second week I’m promoted to waiting tables in the bar area, as opposed to the restaurant. It’s significantly harder and significantly more lucrative. I suspect that my promotion has more to do with my looks than my waitressing abilities, because I still totally suck.
Kristy works there with me. “Brian has a thing for blondes,” she says, winking at me. “Dye your hair and you’re out of here.”