“Then not only will I fire Keith, but I’ll tell your little Vassar gang how you used to beat the shit out of people on the regular. How you almost killed that kid. I mean, you can pretend you were just saving me back then. But you and I both know you enjoyed beating him half to death. I saw it in your eyes.”
I shook my head and stayed quiet for some time. Finch wasn’t wrong, I did go too far. And not just that one day. There had been others before. That was just the last time, because the police were called. But I’d spent all the years since becoming a different person. I was a different person now.
“So you’re blackmailing me. Again?”
Finch smirked. “I’m offering incentives.”
I closed my eyes. Fuck.
“And what if I try with Stephanie, but I still can’t convince her?”
“The main thing is that I see evidence of your effort.” Finch clasped a hand on my shoulder. “And if I don’t, then I guess we’ll see whether these friends of yours really do love you unconditionally.”
I pulled away from him and stood. I needed out of that room. In the hall, I bumped right into Maeve. Her blue-gray eyes sliced me open. Back in college Maeve and I were around each other so much that I got past being tongue-tied. But these days, every time I saw her I felt choked anew by awkwardness.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Derrick,” Maeve said, even though I was the one who bumped into her.
“No, no, that was my— how are you?” I asked. It came out rushed and also stiff. I crossed my arms, which only made it worse. “I just— I feel like we haven’t had a chance to talk at all since we got here.” I motioned to her. “You look great.”
“Oh, um, thanks.” She tucked her long, shiny blond hair behind her perfect little ear and smiled uncomfortably.
What was wrong with me, commenting on the way she looked, gesturing to her body? This was what happened when you spent an inordinate amount of time obsessing about somebody and comparatively little time actually interacting with them. You acted like a freak.
“Sorry.” I shook my head and tried to recover, my hands in my pockets now. I smiled— nice, sweet, harmless. “You look happy, that’s what I mean. How are things with . . . Bates?”
As much as I hated saying his name, I needed to recast our conversation— if I knew full well about the boyfriend, then there was no subtext to anything. But I wouldn’t go so far as to mention Beth. That would just be depressing.
“Oh, Bates is terrific,” Maeve said, smiling, but not with her eyes. “He’s really wonderful.”
But was he really all that wonderful? I didn’t think so. Her face had not lit up at the mention of his name. Objectively, it had not. In fact, the word that came to mind was bereft. There was trouble in paradise. I was about to very gently root around for details when the door swung open behind me.
“What the hell is going on out here!” Finch boomed. “I thought we were going to dinner! I’m starving.”
“Yes!” Keith shouted. His eyes were glassy as he bounded out of his room. Maybe he’d just used. Or needed to. Apparently, with opioids, being too high and not high enough were both a problem. “I could use another fucking drink, too.”
Stephanie appeared in the doorway opposite. She leaned against the doorframe, studying Keith, her mouth turned down. Because worrying about him was her sole priority right now. Unlike me, who really could think only of Maeve.
“I know exactly the place to get something to eat downtown,” Jonathan said, coming briskly into the hall, jacket already in hand. “The Falls. It’s got a nice local vibe. And they have great barbeque.”
Stephanie’s brow furrowed slightly. “You’ve never been there, have you?”
“No, but Peter has.” Jonathan forced an unconvincing smile. “And there’s a first time for everything.”
TWO WEEKS （AND TWO DAYS） EARLIER
I’ve been watching Keith for nearly an hour from inside Bessell’s café, across the street from his gallery. Well, not for the entire hour. Technically, I can only see him when he’s near the front window or outside, where he is rather frequently, taking phone calls, looking around. Smoking. Must have been nearly ten cigarettes in just that period. It’s revolting, honestly. This is probably why he looks so thin, so gray. Well, not the only reason. There’s the drugs and all. The guilt probably isn’t helping either.
They all feel very guilty, too— for the bad decisions, for failing a friend.