My head swivels in her direction. “How do you know how I feel about him? I didn’t even know until…” My voice cracks. “Until it was too late.”
“Well, he’s a great guy. Who wouldn’t be a little bit in love with him, and I say that as a happily married lesbian, mind you.” She hitches her chin at Mrs. Kaminski, dozing again with her cheek on José Luis’s shoulder. “I think he’s the first man to turn Mrs. Kaminski’s head since her husband died two decades ago. And when he’s around, you both get that…” She waves a hand up and down in my direction. “… glow. I was almost afraid to go in the kitchen when the two of you were baking for your brother’s birthday for fear I’d find you doing it on the prep table.”
My body heats as I imagine Jacob lifting me up onto that metal surface and leaning in to kiss me. Dropping the pastry bag and putting those beautiful musician’s hands on my…
God. I press my hands to my heated cheeks. “Well, this is just great, Zoe. I will never be able to go into that kitchen again without blushing.”
She laughs. “I’m just saying. Don’t write him off yet.”
At that moment, the front door swings open and a cold breeze blows into the café. I spin in my seat. Maybe it’s Jacob, and Zoe really is a mind reader.
But the person standing in the doorway in a cloud of black tulle and red glitter isn’t Jacob. It’s Kasumi, and if there is one person other than Jacob I want to see tonight, it’s her. This night feels like the start of something new and special. Something important. I want her to be a part of it.
“Sadie, I’m so glad you’re here!” She runs to our table and drops into the seat across from me, waking Mrs. Kaminski up from her nap. “I went to your apartment, but you didn’t answer the door, and then I remembered that you”—she points at Zoe—“said there’d be a party here tonight. This is not news I could share over text.”
“What kind of news?” I sit up straight.
Kasumi holds out her phone, open to her Social page. “Press play,” she says, gesturing at the video pinned at the top.
We all crowd around Kasumi’s phone, and I gently tap on the video. A few shaky seconds go by before I realize what I’m looking at, and then the video comes into focus. It’s me, shot on someone’s phone from across the room at Xavier’s. I’m standing over Rob as he flops around on the floor like a fish, and my voice cuts in sharply, demanding that he never grope anyone again. The video follows me crossing the room to tell off Xavier and ends with the other staff members chiming in with their own experiences of harassment and the diners walking out.
“Marianne sent it to me, and I had to post it.” Kasumi points to the bottom of the screen where the likes and retweets are in the hundreds of thousands. “Look how many people are talking about this. Everyone is saying what a badass you are, and there are calls to revoke Xavier’s James Beard Award.”
“I—” For once in my life, I’m stunned into silence.
“Are you mad?” Kasumi asks, looking at me cautiously. “I know I should have asked you first. But you’re so freaking amazing, and I admit, I just really wanted Xavier to get what’s coming to him. This felt… bigger than just us, you know?”
I nod because I do know. That’s exactly how I felt when this scene was playing out in real time. Like it was my chance to do something that really mattered. “No—I’m not mad.” It occurs to me that now there’s video evidence of my big, loud, opinionated mouth all over the internet, and my parents are going to see this. For some reason—maybe it’s the alcohol or sheer exhaustion—it strikes me as hilarious, and suddenly I can’t stop laughing. My friends cackle along with me.
“Girl, you’re a hero,” José Luis declares once we’ve calmed down a bit. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Good for you, Sadie,” Zoe says, bumping her shoulder into mine.
Even Mrs. Kaminski nods in appreciation. “At my first job as a nurse, the doctor I worked for used to squeeze my behind when I walked by. Back then we didn’t call it ‘sexual harassment,’ we just called it ‘being a woman.’” She pats my hand. “I wish I’d had someone like you to give him a good kick in the you-know-what.”
“Me too, Mrs. Kaminski.”
Zoe holds up her glass. “This venture is going to be such a wild success, you’ll never have to work for a man like that again.”
Kasumi looks around the café glittering with silver Christmas lights and candles flickering on the tables. “So, what is it that you guys do here, anyway? The space is really pretty.” Kasumi gestures at Zoe. “You own the place?”
“I do.” Zoe flashes me a grin. “But I’ve got a brand-new partner.”
I smile back. “We’re branching out into high-end retail baked goods, catering, and private events.”
“Oh wow. I need more info,” Kasumi says.
I sit up in my seat, remembering that this is exactly the kind of thing Kasumi is good at. Look at how many hits she got on my video in just a couple of hours. “Any chance your soon-to-launch social media marketing business is looking for its first client?”
Kasumi holds up her phone and waves for me and Zoe to lean in. She snaps a photo. “Let’s see…” Her thumbs fly over her screen. “The restaurant employee who took down Xavier for sexual harassment is launching a brand-new woman-owned venture.” She waves her hand in a give-it-to-me gesture. “And the website is…？”
“HighergroundsNYC.com,” Zoe supplies, eyes wide as she watches Kasumi in action.
“Okaaay…” Kasumi continues typing. Then with a dramatic tap of her finger, she looks up at us. “Set to post tomorrow at nine a.m. Then we sit back and let the magic happen.”
“Wow, Kasumi. Thank you.”
“Anything for a friend.” She cocks her head and gives me a smile, and my eyes well up all over again. I’m reaching across the table for a napkin as I hear the front door swing open again. Behind me, my brother’s voice bellows, “Happy New Year, everyone!”
A moment later, Owen slides into the booth next to me. “What’s up, Sadie the Cat Lady?” he asks, drumming his hands on the table.
Mrs. Kaminski peers at him over the top of her glasses. “Nice of you to finally show up.”
“Mrs. Kaminski, I love you,” I say, cracking up.
My brother gives me an exaggerated glare. “We sat on a broken-down F train for hours to get here tonight, and this is the thanks I get?”
My head jerks up. “We?”
“Yeah, Cat Lady. After your voicemail confession—which, by the way, I notice you didn’t listen to a word I said at Christmas, did you?—we hopped on the subway to come over here, but the damn train broke down on us.”
The F train. It broke down during my Very Bad Year, and of course it broke down the second time around, too. Is that why I didn’t hear from Jacob? Because he was on the train? But if Owen is sitting across from me… Where’s Jacob?