“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, his expression shuttering. “You can’t do it all.”
I examined him, my senses tingling. I’d never given much thought to his career path. In our world, taking over our families’ companies was expected. But I had sisters who were buffers for our parents’ expectations; Sebastian didn’t. He was an only child. The golden boy. The pressure for him to follow a prescribed path must be immense.
My mind flashed back to our freshman year of college. There’d been a huge snowstorm. The dining halls were closed, and food delivery services were limited. Sebastian invited a bunch of people over to his apartment and kept us fed all weekend.
I remembered how happy he’d looked in the kitchen and how genuine his smile had been when I’d (reluctantly) complimented his cooking.
I couldn’t remember him ever looking that happy in an office.
A strange tightness squeezed my chest. I finished my ramenand pushed the bowl aside. “If anyone can do it all, it’s you,” I said. “That’s what makes you so annoying.”
Sebastian’s mouth tipped up at the corners, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
The tightness squeezed harder.
Maybe I was having a heart attack. That would track with how my year had been going so far.
“If our families weren’t friends, do you think we would’ve talked?” Sebastian abruptly switched subjects.
“Of course. We were in the same year, and our school wasn’t that big.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
My heart stuttered at the quiet, unexpected intensity behind his words.
Oh, God. I really was having a cardiac episode.
I opened my mouth, but my response drowned beneath the echoes of yet another memory. Senior year of boarding school, minutes before our commencement ceremony.
“Maya, wait.” His hand caught my wrist.
“What do you want, Sebastian?”
“I…”
A student volunteer from the administrative office had interrupted us, saying they needed Sebastian backstage ASAP to go over some things for his valedictorian’s speech.
Sebastian never followed up with what he was going to tell me, and I never asked. But there were times, when I was alone and obsessing over that split-second interaction, that I thought… That maybe he…
No.He’d probably wanted to rub his valedictorian status in my face. That was why he’d nicknamed me Sal, after all. It was short for salutatorian, and it was his way of reminding me of theoneaccomplishment I’d never achieve.
“I’m sure you would’ve weaseled your way into my life somehow,” I said, finding my words. I hoped he didn’t notice the hitch in my voice. “You’re relentless that way.”
A flash of what looked like disappointment crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “True. I’m nothing if not persistent.” He tossed another smile my way. It felt even emptier than the last one. “Well, this has been fun, but I have to head out. We have a new restaurant opening in Pittsburgh next month, and I need to finalize some details.”
“Fine. I also have to—” I stopped short, my pulse spiking again for an entirely different reason.
Pittsburgh.
That was it.Thatwas the detail that had been nagging at me.
I shoved my chair back and stood so fast I banged my knee on the underside of the table. I barely registered the pain through the sudden adrenaline rush.
Sebastian frowned. “Are you okay? What—”
“I have to go. I just remembered I’m late for, um, a doctor’s appointment.” I grabbed my bag and practically ran to the exit. “See you next week!”
I didn’t wait for Sebastian’s response. The door slammed shut behind me, and my heart pounded as I rushed downstairs.
