“The fact that you could’ve used a host of adjectives that don’t describe fucking Asher as a religious and enlightening encounter,” Delilah suggests.
“Or perhaps that you havethe lookin your eyes,” Keith adds on.
“In sum: you’re fucked,” Delilah concludes with a prim nod.
“I don’t have any look, and I’m not fucked.”
“Au contraire, darling. By your own admission, you got your brains fucked out—”
“I never said that!” I screech.
“We heard it anyways. We also hear the sound of you falling head over heels.” Delilah grimaces. “It’s like thescreechof a crashing airplane, only more depressing.”
“How do you know what a crashing airplane sounds like?” I squint at her.
She shrugs. “I doom-scroll when I’m bored.”
My eyebrows inch up. Delilah seems too busy for boredom, and far too…herfor something as mundane as doomscrolling.
“Let’s shelve your wild conspiracy theories for now and stop talking about my love life while we’re at it. How are you two doing?” I resent that all of our schedules keep us too busy to talk regularly. It doesn’t help that we’re often in wildly different time zones.
“I’m wonderful,” Keith says. “Preparing for my next tour. You two are, of course, always welcome to join me on the road—”
“We’re not your groupies or your cronies.” Delilah yawns. “You already get fawned over too much. I’m not going to help your ego grow to untenable proportions.”
“What about you, Lilah?” I ask her. She’s been a bit… off the last few times we’ve talked. It could just be exhaustion, but my gut tells me it’s something more.
Something flashes through her eyes before she musters her expression. “I’m just like every other twenty-something year old practicing corporate law. Overworked and perpetually exhausted.” She smiles. “Good thing I thrive under crushing pressure.”
“Only difference is most twenty-something year olds aren’t senior associates,” Keith comments.
“Did you ever get that thing with the senior partner figured out?” I ask.
Delilah’s gaze flits sideways. “You could say that. In other news, I’m thinking about coming to one of your races this season. I have some paid time off I can request, and I need a vacation.”
I wouldneverconsider being on or near the track a vacation, but that’s because I’m always there in a work capacity. I love the rush, but I acknowledge it’s stressful.
Delilah, on the other hand, probably finds the stress of F1 far more relaxing than her regular day-to-day at work.
“Which race?” I ask.
“Probably Montreal. It’s closer than most of the other destinations, save for Miami, and I can’t make it out in time for that.” Delilah sighs wistfully. “You have no idea how lucky you are to travel for work. I’d love to always be on the go, moving from destination to destination.”
I pause. Look at Keith. This time, it’s him and me having a silent conversation consisting ofwhat the fuck is going on with Delilah?
“Feeling stuck, Lilah?” Keith asks smoothly. “Is all that corporate American money getting to be too tiresome?”
Delilah purses her lips, marking up her papers even more aggressively. “I love law. I love my profession. There are just a couple of things that I don’t like about my firm.”
“Would those things have anything to do with the senior partner who was harassing you?” I ask gently.
Delilah pauses for a long, long time. “Yeah,” she finally says. “That’s part of it.”
“Do you need help?” Keith asks seriously.
She shakes her head. “No, I’ll manage. But I am going to be looking at other options.” She sighs. “Problem is, the senior partner has a lot of sway in the firm. He could stop me from getting a recommendation letter, which would make a good move more difficult. I just need to think out some strategies and percolate on it. Everything will be fine.”
I know my best friend well enough to know that I shouldn’t interrupt her thinking time with unsolicited advice. She’s the best strategist I know, and got ranked as a chess grandmaster when she was thirteen years old. She’ll find her way through this, and she knows I have her back.
