“Obviouslyit’s a terrible idea. I work for him. It’s a terrible, cliché idea.”
“Not just because you work for him. Isn’t he married?”
I felt my eyes narrow. “Maybe he’s not even happily married. I’m not necessarily saying he’sunhappy, but marriage shouldn’t be a death sentence.”
He rubbed his jaw, looking frustrated again. “I never said it should be.”
“I just think no one should be stuck in something that isn’t making them happy. Which is basically what you just said a few minutes ago.”
I was projecting so hard we could both taste it.
“Look, I have no idea how we got here. I’m just saying that being divorced doesn’t give you the right to become an asshole who can’t see right from wrong. Like getting involved with a married guy.”
“Right from wrong? I didn’t realize I was back in Sunday school.”
I was quickly unraveling and indignant at the thought of Charlie lecturing me. I made a show of digging into my bag to find my wallet.
“It’s late. I have to get home and go over notes for a nine a.m. call with Eddie,” I said coldly.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“Work doesn’t stop on the weekends for some of us.”
Charlie crossed his arms. “Look, you’re doing what you always wanted. Working for people like Eddie and Leo. Just don’t fuck it up by becoming some young associate who falls for a partner. You’re better than that.”
I pushed my chair out a little too aggressively, and my bag dropped heavily onto the floor. “I have to go,” I said. I could tell I was on the verge of tears.
“I’ll get this. Good luck with the call tomorrow.”
I walked all the way back to the West Village, alternating between feeling angry and anxious. I was embarrassed for being so reactive. Was he right? Was I jaded—or worse, morally bankrupt—because of my past?
It was almost 11 p.m. by the time I turned right on Perry Street. As I crossed West Fourth, I saw the shape of someone sitting on the step of my building. I gripped my keys as Charlie stood up.
“I didn’t want to leave things like that.”
I put my keys away. “I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive.”
“Yeah, but I overstepped. Your personal life is none of my business. I guess when you confided in me about Ben, something got crossed in my brain. I don’t know. Maybe I thought you wanted my opinion on everything else. But I really didn’t mean to come off self-righteously,” Charlie said, looking earnest again, and ten years younger than he was.
I sat down heavily. “I’ve felt so out of control since I slept with Ben. Now I’m just casually throwing around that I have a crush on a married partner. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Maybe I don’t have a moral compass.”
Charlie squeezed my shoulder. “You’re just figuring it all out, and anyone in your shoes would be doing the exact same thing. Everyone gets a pass for growing pains when we go from adolescence to adulthood, but no one ever talks about what happens after we’re technically adults. But we’re still growing. And we’re going to keep making mistakes.”
“Hollywood should really make more ‘coming-of-adulthood’ stories.”
“They do. It’s called every Duplass brothers movie.”
I laughed. “This night really turned dramatic. You’re on my steps at midnight. We should both get some sleep.”
He stood up quickly. “Let’s just pretend tonight never happened, okay? Except the part where I finally got you to my secret sushi spot. We have to go back and cleanse that place. Or maybe never leave the office. We seem to be good there.”
I smiled. “Deal.”
We shook hands, and I watched him disappear toward the subway that would take him back to Brooklyn.
Chapter Twenty-Two
By the time the sky brightened, I felt more mentally drained than sleep deprived. I worried our symbiotic officemate bubble had been punctured, and I was the only one to blame. He had been so thoughtful, almost in a vulnerable way. What had acting so defensively gotten me?
