There’s no point in responding. Lucy has never worked for herself. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand what it’s like to be responsible for paying salaries and making sure you don’t default on a lease.
“The thing is,” she says, fiddling with one of the flowers in the bouquet. “If that were true, there’d be a low ceiling on success. There’d be no Warren Buffett or Steve Jobs. People would have a cap on how much they could achieve because there are only so many hours in the day.”
I try to hear what she’s saying, but it’s like she’s spouting quantum physics. I can’t make sense of her words, and I’ve already got too much spinning around in my head. I can’t take anything else in.
“I’m going to leave you to take your step back,” she says. “From me. And I’m going to go and enjoy the party.”
This is my window of opportunity. I could say I didn’t mean I wanted to take a step back from her. Because I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t have a choice. I have to let her go.
She turns and heads back into the marquee. Part of me wants to bury everything I’m feeling about my conversation with Ed and follow her. I want to dance and laugh and hold her close. I want to spend the night naked and tangled up with her breath on my skin and her fingers in my hair.
But I know now’s not the time to lose it, not the time to give in to temptation. We’re at a tipping point. Ed is stepping back, and I need to step forward. I have to save this business.
I have to saveus.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lucy
I kick my shoes off as soon as I’m through my front door. On the wall ahead of me hangs a gold-edged mirror my mom bought me when I moved into this apartment. I’ve never liked it. It’s old fashioned and not in that cool vintage-y way. Less “granny chic” and more “Granny, no thank you.” My mom even chose where to put it. She said it was always good to have a mirror near the front door so you could check your appearance before you left or before you opened the door.
But I hate it, and I’m reminded that I hate it every time I come back to my apartment. It’s still there, every day, despite me hating it, even though Mom hasn’t visited since she came when I moved in three years ago. I sling my bag on the floor and reach for the mirror. It unhooks easily, and I lift it off the wall. I stand back to look at the blank space where it just was. It looks a little bare, but maybe I could find a picture to go there instead. I set the mirror back onto the hook and pour myself a glass of water.
I’m running up against the deadline to apply to sit for the LSAT if I want to do it before applications close for law school in September. I’m also sitting on an email from Sharon, asking whether I’m interestedin her putting me forward for one of the in-house scholarships that will be launched this year. It’s an unwritten rule in our law firm that partner emails never have to wait more than an hour—and then only if you’re in a meeting or on a call on something else. Sharon’s email has been in my inbox since ten fifteen this morning, and I still haven’t responded. If I want a law school scholarship, I have to answer her before I go to bed tonight, or I can forget about it.
I take a sip of water. I thought the journey home from the office would clear my head and let me think, help me come to a decision, but it didn’t. Neither does the water. Neither does being at home.
I take my laptop and go to my couch. If I tell her I want to be considered, that doesn’t mean I’ve automatically got the scholarship, does it? I might not get accepted into law school. I might not even get a good enough score on the LSAT.
The LSAT study book Hunter and I bought, what seems like months ago now, is sitting on the coffee table. I set my laptop to one side and grab the book, flipping through the pages like they might have the answer to Sharon’s email in there somewhere.
I’ve mentally tried out some of the questions. I haven’t committed anything to paper. I haven’t even allocated time in my schedule to study. Although I have more time on my hands now that Katherine and Ed are on their honeymoon and Hunter has taken a step back.
A step back from me.
From us.
From life.
Maybe he has the right idea. I certainly have more time on my hands since I haven’t taken my lunch breaks this week and I’ve spent every night at home. The hours I’ve gained back in my schedule could be totally devoted to the LSAT. It’s what Hunter would do, isn’t it? No doubt he’s still in the office at this very moment. Worrying. Stressing. Taking the weight of the world on his shoulders. I can’t blame him. Given what happened with his dad, it’s totally understandable why he wouldn’t want another business he’s in charge of to fail. He doesn’t seemto realize that when he took over his father’s company, it had already failed. From what I can gather, Hunter was an innocent bystander in that scenario. Nothing he could have done would have protected him from the fallout.
He’s still sheltering from the fallout. Even now. Braced. Ready. Waiting for it to happen again. It’s all he’s got room for. My heart aches because I’m not with him, but also because I know he’s in pain and can’t see a way out.
I toss the LSAT book to the side and pull my laptop back onto my lap. I reread Sharon’s email for the tenth time. What am I going to say?
Are you sure you haven’t mixed me up with someone else?
My mother thinks I’m not capable of dressing myself, let alone going to law school. How can you be so sure I am?
Sure, I’ll put my name down for a scholarship, but don’t worry, you’ll never have to pay up because I’ll never get in.
My phone buzzes, and I hurry to grab my cell from my purse, which I left in the hallway.
It’s pictures on the group chat with Ed, Katherine, Hunter, and me. Katherine in a red bikini, holding up a shell. Katherine and Ed holding up cocktails. Ed with a snorkel and mask on. They look like they’re having the time of their lives. It’s nice they want to share it with us.
Hunter and I haven’t officially split because we weren’t officially together. I haven’t mentioned anything to Katherine because I don’t want anything to interrupt her having a great time on her honeymoon. And maybe part of me is hoping the conversation I had with Hunter will be forgotten now that he’s had a chance to process what Ed wassaying. Ed loves working with Hunter and doesn’t want to step back in any meaningful sense. He just doesn’t want to workall the time. Then again, he doesn’t have the history Hunter does.
As I’m swiping through the photographs, a video call from Katherine comes through.
