I told her everything, starting with the gala and ending with Charlie leaving New York. My messages to him that had gone unanswered.
“I’ve basically been a recluse for the last month with nothing but time to think about how much I fucked things up. I don’t even feel like I love my job anymore.”
She looked at me squarely. “I’m sure it’s gotten you this far, but have you ever thought about not being so hard on yourself?”
“Nope.”
She sighed and rested the tip of her tongue against her upper lip.
“Look—I know how important your career is to you, but you’re putting the same unrealistic expectations on a job as other people put on a relationship. There are going to be ups and downs. It’s the commitment to it being more good than bad that makes it worthwhile.”
“I know. But I can’t stop thinking that I’m doing it all out of order. I’m out there in the ocean, but I never learned how to swim.”
“That’s the flaw in your solution. Progress doesn’t have to be linear. There’s no order of life experience to check off.”
She squeezed my hand. “I know you think it’s easier to cut off everything except your ambition. But you should stop that. Now that you’re here,doing this, it’s time to own your life—including your excuses—and cut yourself some slack. Figure out what balance looks like. You’re a human being. Lean into it. Your own personal soft launch.”
She sat back proudly. “I nailed it, didn’t I?”
I smiled self-consciously. “They should really teach more practical attorney-client boundaries in law school. Rule number one: Your client is not your therapist.”
“I’m not your client anymore.”
“Thank God.”
She handed me a glass of water. “So. What’s it been like without my frantic calls?”
Chapter Forty-Three
“Do you like oysters?” Frank asked.
I nodded as he signaled to the waiter. “We’ll do a dozen oysters. Preferably East Coast.”
He winked at me. “Less salty.”
When Frank suggested we meet for lunch at Jeffrey’s Grocery, a restaurant known for oysters and Bloody Marys, I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a business lunch or something else. Whatever his agenda, I was hoping to flex my client-development muscles.
He smiled. “My girlfriend loves this spot. She turned me onto it.”
“What does your girlfriend do?” I asked.
“She does marketing for wellness companies.”
“Ah. So you’re dating outside the industry.”
He smirked. “My last girlfriend was an actress. She was gunpowder in human form. Broke my heart into a million pieces.”
“I’m sorry. But it sounds like you rebounded?”
“Eventually. It took three years. I couldn’t sit still. Spent a year in India. Six months in Dubai. Then São Paolo, Santiago, and Mexico City before I felt like I was whole enough to come back.”
“Holy shit. That’s an amazing lineup, though.”
“I met Sarah the first weekend I was back in the city. She was standing outside of Equinox pushing some hot yoga/mind meld thing. That was almost a year ago.”
“I always wondered how real people meet other real people.”
“I have a no-actress rule now.” He glanced down at the menu. “Was this place out of the way for you? I didn’t think to ask where you live.”
