“So what’s the problem?”
“You have to get back to work. We’ll talk about this some other time.”
“Enzo DeLuca. Spit it out.”
That’s my mother’s tone, and Lusanne wields it like a sword.
“I like her, Lus. A lot.”
“I’m not sure I get the problem?”
What am I supposed to say? That I like my work more?
Or not more precisely. It’s just that the two strands of my life don’t jive very well.
“If it were five years from now, after all of the dust settles—”
“Oh, you mean when Angel, Inc. is international? And your vodka is more popular than anyone else’s? When you’re working on other spirits. Angel Bourbon. Angel Whiskey. Then, you mean?”
I’m really starting to wish I hadn’t called my sister. Although I’m not sure what I hoped she’d say.
“Enzo, there won’t be a good time to fall in love. Not for you.”
I don’t argue that I’m not in love with Chari Atwood. I don’t want to lie. But that doesn’t mean it will help anything to acknowledge it out loud either.
“There couldn’t be a worse time,” I point out. “And it’s not like she’s here, in New York.”
“I’m in here,” she calls out to someone. “Enz, I gotta go.”
“That’s fine. I should get back to work too.”
I can almost feel her eyes rolling from Bridgewater.
“Thanks for listening to me, at least.”
“Not that it did any good. There’s really only one person who can give you the answers you need. But for what it’s worth, I like her too. A lot. Call you tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I say. “Love you, Lus.”
“Love you too. Ciao.”
The phone goes dead. I stare at it, agreeing at least with her last point. There really is only one person who can figure this out, and I’m staring at him in the reflection of my big picture window.
36
Chari
The black screen lights up beside me. Picking it up, I answer wearily. It’s the first time all weekend Enzo and I have video chatted, but this time it was because of my schedule, not Enzo’s. For the last week, I have forced myself to stop waiting for my life to start.
My mother didn’t raise me to be dependent.
Not on my boss.
Not on my boyfriend.
Lisa was right about one thing. I am a saboteur. Or at least I have been in the past. All day last Sunday, I thought about what she said. I turned off everything, made myself more coffee than one person should drink after noon, and contemplated what I want from my life, where I’m going with it, and where I’ve already gone.
Do I push people away out of a fear of rejection? Out of a fear of being left? Sure. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. Am I doing it with Enzo too? Just a week ago I vowed to fight for him, and I still think he’s worth it. But even more worthwhile? Not losing myself completely. Which is totally what I’ve done.
Most teachers don’t leave public education and willingly give up a pension. But that’s exactly what I plan to do. As much as I love these kids, I’m not so keen to operate under this twisted, arcane institution that cares more about preserving itself than it does about progress. Nope, I just can’t do it anymore.
So what’s the alternative?
I’m not positive, but I’m determined to figure it out. Joining a private education company? Starting my own? Even researching the possibilities gives me more hope about my future than I’ve had in a while.
And then there’s Enzo.
My path forward is clear. I need to start accepting invitations from my friends again. Stop planning my life around a nightly video call. While he moves forward with his life in New York, I need to do the same here.
But we’ve paid the price. There’s a new distance between us, one I don’t like, but I’m not sure if there’s any hope for spanning it. For making this work. I can’t sit around waiting for him to toss me a scrap of himself. He tried to warn me weeks ago, but the high of Switzerland and being with him kept me from actually processing what he said on the plane back to the States.
“I work a lot, Chari.”
Of course he does, I thought at the time. That’s totally fine.
“You can ask Hayden when you meet him. Or talk to my family. Even your brother. Any one of them will tell you, Angel, Inc. is like my baby.”
And still, I shrugged off his words. We’ll make it work, I thought. He cares about me, and that’s all that matters.
So naive.
“Hey, tiger,” he says, Enzo’s handsome face flashing onto the screen.
I prop the phone on my computer.
“Hold on a sec.”
Turning off the show I was watching when he called, I take in the casual navy T-shirt and damp hair.
“Went for a swim?” I ask, wishing I could run my hands through that tousled mass of sexy darkness. It seems I do a lot of wishing when it comes to Enzo.
“Yeah,” he says.
Looks like he’s sitting at his dining room table. Working, no doubt.
“How was your weekend?”
I relay everything since Friday, including possible plans for my future. He fills me in on what’s happening with Angel.
On one hand, it’s a comfortable conversation between two people who know each other’s daily lives well. On the other, there’s a tension between us that hasn’t totally eased since our fight about Rob. But I’m determined not to go there, to take this as it comes and stop overanalyzing what could be. I’ve decided my life is not going to be about Enzo, but that doesn’t mean Enzo can’t be a part of my life.
But then he drops a bombshell.
“I do have some bad news,” he says. His frown is more telling than his words. He looks as if the lab tech just told him there was a problem with the formula. Part concerned, part thoughtful, and definitely not at ease.
“What’s that?”
I fluff a pillow behind my head, waiting for him to continue.
“Chari?”
Looking back at the screen, I realize I’ve been purposefully avoiding him. Sensing something was happening and knowing I wouldn’t like whatever he has to say.
“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to cancel next weekend.”
I knew it before the words left his mouth. He was supposed to send a driver on Friday. The plan was for me to spend the whole weekend in New York. Maybe that’s why I’ve been able to focus so much better this last week, knowing we’d see each other soon enough.
But my carefully built house of cards comes crashing down with his words.
“I have to head up to Rochester. Long story, but it has to do with the vodka antidote. I swear, moving into spirits will be the death of me.”
And Enzo will be the death of me.
Don’t say it, Chari. Don’t.
“Maybe I could come with you?”
Ugh, what is wrong with me?
“I’m actually going with Hayden.”
Which means it’s serious. Hayden doesn’t travel as much anymore, and they usually split up Angel, Inc. duties whenever possible. I know there’s another lab they work with in Rochester, and while a part of me wants to ask what happened, the other part knows it doesn’t matter.