“What do you think?”She breaks off another piece of her bun.
“If I were you, I would tell Dave that his app doesn’t work, and I would not use it anymore.”
“I can’t do that,” she cries.“He’s so sweet and he’s working incredibly hard.He’s really trying.He’s in there every day, tweaking things, asking for feedback, listening to what I have to say.I want his app to succeed, for his sake.”
“And what about you?”I ask softly.“What do you get out of this?”
She waves her hand dismissively, like she doesn’t want to talk about it.I feel sorry for her.My own dating life hasn’t been great, but it’s not been as crazy as hers.Mine has been quieter, whereas she’s determined not to be alone.I broke up with a guy months before I got this job, because I wanted to focus on my career.I wanted to prove myself when I got this job and working for Katherine is full on.Still, I’ve given it my all, working late into the night and on weekends if needed, I wouldn’t have had the time for a relationship.
And now the thought of leaving and moving closer to my mom is becoming more real.But I love this city.It’s a shame my boss has made my life too difficult, and I’ve given up on the promotion carrot she’s still dangling, but I can’t do this for much longer.Zach coming on the scene has made things worse and now my emotions are all over the place.
“I’m done talking about me.I want to hear all about your Friday night dinner with your mystery man,” Fleur says.
I recount the date, and am forced to recount every tiny detail, from the interior of Dali, the restaurant, to the dishes on the menu, and the wine Zach ordered.I tell her everything, without telling her who he is.
“He’s perfect!”Fleur shrieks.“He’s sounds just perfect.A dream.”
Zach Knight does seem like the perfect gentleman, from the outside, but we have history, history he knows about and history he’s completely ignorant of.It complicates things.
“Are you seeing him again?”
“I don’t want to ever see him again.”
Fleur’s eyes widen.“Why not?”
I shrug, because I can’t articulate my words clearly.
“If you don’t want this man, give him to me.I’ll take him off your hands,” she begs.
The thought pinches me.And that in itself is a surprise.Zach does sound like the perfect guy, and I must come across as ungrateful and nasty.That’s probably what he thought, too.After all, he took me to a beautiful restaurant and we ate the most delicious food, yet, he did his utmost to impress me, and despite him being the perfect gentleman, all I felt was the gulf between his world and mine.
It instantly put me on guard.Everything Zach did for me, pulling out my chair, ordering the expensive wine, every gesture of generosity felt like a show of wealth.It reminded me of the power imbalance between us, the same power imbalance my mom always felt being a housekeeper to the rich.
A couple stroll past us, arms linked, tourists slowing down to peer into shop windows.I watch them, wrapping my fingers around my tall glass of iced latte, the glass cool against my skin, condensation pooling on the tabletop.
Life is so not fair.Why couldn’t he just be a normal guy?Someone who watches football with his buddies, and knocks back beers after work.Someone who works a 9-to-5 without constantly checking his phone and maybe goes fishing on the weekend instead of spiraling over every little thing.
Everything would be so different then.
And if only he weren’t burdened by his bloodline.
Would I be attracted to him then?
Yes.
Am I attracted to him now?
Also yes.
The only thing keeping me from him is our past, and yet he talked about that time with such fondness, sometimes with a rueful smile.He seemed to want to dwell in it, and I wanted nothing of the sort.I kept thinking,you don’t get to have my past.You don’t get to turn it into something it wasn’t.
Naturally he noticed my distance.He figured out something was wrong.I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t, not after he told me that his father has kidney disease.Now I can’t ever tell him.
I take a slow sip of my cold coffee, letting the noise of the street wash over me as if it might drown out the memory.
When he made a toast to “old friends finding each other again,” I felt sick.All I could think about was my mom crying while she packed our bags and we left in a hurry.
And yet, I have never forgotten when we kissed for the first time.All that longing and yearning for a boy I liked so much that I could barely sleep at night, came to a head.It was near the boathouse, on one of those early June days when sunlight dripped from the sky.
