Hayden looks at his wife curiously. “But won’t we need him later?”
Ada makes a face at me, and I can’t help but laugh. Clearly she knows something Hayden does not.
“Today is his daughter’s birthday. Please tell me you didn’t forget to give him the gift earlier?”
His expression says otherwise.
Ada shakes her head, but she has a bemused expression on her face.
“It’s in my coat pocket,” he confesses.
“Finish your drink. I’ll grab it and give it to Henry before I send him home.”
Rather than wait for a response from Hayden, she heads straight for Giovanna, who guides her to the back of the restaurant.
Hayden finishes his wine and looks at me sheepishly.
“Oops.”
Poor Ada.
“I know you realize you’re a lucky bastard,” I tell him in earnest. “If she hadn’t come along . . .”
Hayden snatches the bill. It’s my turn, so I’m not sure why he takes it.
“If she hadn’t come along, you’d be left to pick up the pieces,” he says. “Which is why I’m paying tonight.”
As if it really matters. Our money is tied as closely together as our fates. Even without Ada—I shudder at the thought—there’s no one I’d rather be in business with. Faults and all. But I still enjoy teasing him.
“If you’re trying to make up for all your bad behavior, I hate to tell you, but a sixty-dollar bill isn’t going to cut it.”
Hayden’s smile reaches the corners of his eyes. He knows I’m telling the truth. But I don’t think that’s the reason for his sudden giddiness. He’s looking at his wife. Who just saved his ass, and not for the first time.
“I know it,” he says. “Sorry to skip out on you. Talk to you tomorrow.”
I nod to him and wave to Ada. “Have fun. And keep your pants on.”
His laugh echoes through the restaurant. The last Black and White Ball went particularly well for Hayden, which is why he won’t miss it. Only a guy like Hayden, who is the very opposite of shy, revels in getting caught in an extremely compromising position with his then girlfriend. He pays and leaves with Ada, but I don’t get up just yet. The only thing waiting for me back at my apartment is a laptop and more work.
“More wine, Mr. DeLuca?” the waitress asks.
I’m about to say no but decide otherwise.
“Sure.”
Which is how I end up sitting alone, watching a restaurant full of people and the few brave souls scurrying by outside, bundled up against the cold.
You know what? I’m done for the night. The budget approvals can wait until morning.
Hayden doesn’t seem concerned about them. Instead, he’s with the love of his life, enjoying a night out. But I really don’t begrudge him that. I never do. Hayden works hard in his own way, and no matter what his dad says, Angel, Inc. would never be what it is today without my partner.
So why do you begrudge yourself the same happiness?
I shove the thought away.
Only for it to be replaced with another.
I’ve never seen that expression on your face before.
And my least favorite: Cornell?I’m so sorry, sweetie, but I don’t think that’s going to be possible.
I’ve hated the word “sweetie” my entire life.
Certainly I don’t work too much because of Mrs. Forsythe or any of the other teachers or adult figures who have doubted me because of my learning disability. That would be giving them too much power over my destiny.
I do this because . . .
I’m proud of what we’ve built. Of how far we’ve come. And the possibilities are so exciting that I can’t help but push further, faster. Want to go further yet.
Being competitive isn’t a weakness. It’s a strength. One I shouldn’t have to apologize for.
Right?
“More wine?”
The waitress looks at me curiously. I don’t usually stay for long after Hayden leaves, and never for this long. “No, thank you,” I say. “Just the check please.”
She shakes her head. “On the house. See you next week, Mr. DeLuca.”
“Good night, Julia.”
But I still don’t want to leave. My apartment is the last place I want to be, because everything in it reminds me of Chari. I see her everywhere. Standing by the windows, looking out at the view. In my bed, on my couch . . .
But it’s not just my apartment.
I see her in the office, the glass frog she gave me staring at me in judgment all day long because I can’t bring myself to move him.
I see her when I close my eyes, and in my dreams and daydreams, she’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt, coffee mug in hand, with the Swiss Alps rising behind her.
How could she ever think she’s anything but magnificent? A country bumpkin indeed.
I don’t want a woman who’s coolly sophisticated, like Giovanna. Or fake, like so many of the people I meet on a daily basis.
I want Chari Atwood just as she is. Or was, until I slammed the door on what could have been, in favor of my own ambition.
I’ve never seen that expression on your face before.
Because I’d never been in love before.
Until now.
Of course it’s snowing.
The weather isn’t bad enough to keep me put—it just means the drive will take three hours rather than two. If I’m lucky. It doesn’t help that I’m leaving at the worst possible time of day. Unfortunately, there’s no help for it—I finally finished rescheduling the last of my meetings, and I couldn’t bring myself to wait.
I flip open my laptop as the car moves slowly out of the city.
Another few hours and that’s it for an entire week. My driver has strict orders to take this bad boy back to my apartment. I’ll be honest: I struggle with the thought of being without my laptop for so long.
Which only tells me that I’ve let this—not the laptop, necessarily, but what it represents—take over my life for too long. Others are addicted to things far worse. But some, like me, are addicted to their jobs.
And just like those other kinds of addictions, this one has cost me more than I’m willing to pay. Certainly it has damaged other relationships in my life. Thankfully, my family doesn’t have the luxury of breaking up with my ass. They’re stuck with me. Chari, not so much.
My phone lights up.
Lusanne.
“Hey,” I say, answering.
“Are you seriously coming home? For a whole week?”
So Lus talked to my mom. I wondered how long it would take her to call.
The fact that she sounds genuinely excited is one of the many reasons I know I’m doing the right thing. After talking to Hayden on Thursday and then Devon last night, I’m feeling pretty good about this. So good, in fact, that I can’t help but kick myself for not having done it sooner. This is the first full week I’ve taken off since we started the company.
“Yes. I’m even sending my laptop back to the city.”
Silence.
Then, “Um, couldn’t you have just left it there in the first place?”
“Pfft. Crazy talk. I’m stuck in this car for at least a few hours. An extended vacation might be necessary, but I’m not about to willfully waste time.”