I walk out and run into Mark, who’s scrubbing a hand over his face and doesn’t even seem to see me. “Oh, Lucie,” he says, narrowly avoiding me and appearing a decade older than he did last week. “Sorry. Congrats on the article.”
“Thanks. Are you okay?”
He gives me a tired smile. “Just got off the phone with Caleb. He’s in a mood.”
He starts to walk past me, but there’s a question I’ve wanted to ask nearly since I arrived here, a question I’ve tiptoed around for too long. “Hey, Mark? Why did you guys close the seventh floor before?”
His eyes widen, and then he frowns. “Well, Caleb was concerned about the utility costs.”
I shake my head. “Except the utilities are minimal relative to the rest of the budget. Did something happen there?”
He looks over his shoulder before he answers. “This stays between us,” he says, “but the last event we held up there was a baby shower for Caleb and his wife. Make of that what you will.”
I flinch. It’s an even worse answer than I expected, one that simultaneously makes me wish I could spend my whole life fixing Caleb’s while recognizing that he has wounds no one can fix until he admits they’re there.
I search my email for the recruiter who reached out a few weeks ago. Caleb never wanted me here in the first place and it’ll be easy for my replacement to pick up where I’ve left off if they actually want to fill the position. My guess is that after the merger, it will be someone in New York overseeing both companies anyway.
“I’m so happy you called,” the recruiter says. “I actually have a client who’s asked for you specifically. I’m sure you’re familiar with Underwood Industries?”
After a half-second of startled silence, I simply sigh. I have no idea if it’s a coincidence or my father perhaps trying to offer me some high-salary job to buy my silence, but it doesn’t matter. “Yeah, I’ve heard of them. Except I wouldn’t work for Robert Underwood if my life depended on it. Please tell them I said so.”
She gives a small, awkward laugh. “Okay. But are you open to other possibilities if I come up with something?”
I swallow. “Yeah. I’m open. I’m looking to leave here as soon as possible.”
ON FRIDAY MORNING, Molly comes over to watch the twins for me since kindergartners have a delayed start—St. Ignatius once again assuming all students have a stay-at-home mom or nanny at their disposal.
She’s glowing with excitement when she arrives—the date with Michael last weekend went spectacularly well （she screamed, ‘Five times, Lucie. Five times!’ into the phone so loudly that Sophie demanded to know what had happened） and they’re going away together this weekend as soon as I return to pick up the kids.
“I’m going to do your makeup,” Sophie announces.
Molly raises a brow. “I was going to teach you about derivatives.”
“Then we’re at an impasse,” Sophie replies.
Molly chokes on a laugh. “You win, simply for being a six-year-old who uses the word ‘impasse,’” she says, but she has her concerned face on as she walks me to the door.
She knows I’m about to see Caleb for the first time in a week—news about the merger leaked, so he’s called an emergency staff meeting to quell any anxiety. That alone would be hard enough, but I’ve also got Henry’s doomed presentation, followed by the twins going to their grandparents’ for the holiday weekend. The prospect of it all requires more grit than I may have.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks. “You can always come with me and Michael. He rented a house. There’s tons of space.”
I smile. “That’s nice of you, but I might get in the way of all the sex on the kitchen table you’ll be having.”
“You wouldn’t get in the way,” she says with a grin. “I don’t mind an audience.”
I laugh. “I’m a bit worried about that as well.”
Molly glances at Caleb’s house, which is dark again, though I saw a light go on late last night. Her smile fades. “Just get through today, yeah?”
I swallow hard. “Yeah.” Simply surviving the day seems like the best I can hope for.
I get to work and set up bagels and coffee in the auditorium with my stomach in knots. As the room begins to fill, I take a seat toward the back since I’ll probably need to cut out early to get the twins.
Caleb enters just a minute or two before the meeting begins, cleanly shaven, new haircut and new suit, more handsome than ever. He searches the room—not even trying to hide it—until he finds me. His gaze holds mine for longer than it should. He looks exhausted. He looks broken.