Of course, once the party gets going, I receive curious looks from some of our employees. There are even a few who come up to me and urgently whisper-promise that they never said awordto Margaret Dwyer and don’t know anyone else who did, either. I thank them and otherwise get very uncomfortable about it, even though their sincerity means so much to me.
It isn’t that I’ve ever expected to be liked by everyone. But it’s nice to be liked by, at the very least, quite a few.
And then, the intern drama begins.
It starts with three girls who burst into tears at interspersed twenty-minute intervals, each of them looking forlornly in the direction of freckled-intern Andrew whenever they wipe their eyes. Andrew, in turn, surrounded by the other guys, can’t keep his eyes off Eugenia—who has remained by my side from the first instant she spotted me.
“What is goingon?” I ask her. We’re sitting at a picnic table outside the brewery with Camila and a few of the retail staff. The bulk of the interns, Andrew included, are in a huddle a few tables away, gossiping and pointing between Eugenia and the three crying girls (commiserating by the outdoor bar).
“Andrew and I hooked up a few times at the start of the summer,” Eugenia explains. “I ended things because it was getting too serious,and then he hooked up with Eva. But Eva’s boyfriend back home in New Hampshire found out she hooked up with Andrew, and also, Melanie—who lived with Eva this summer—got pissed because she’s apparently had a crush on Andrew the whole time and supposedly Evaknewthat and boinked him anyway. I don’t know why Cassie is crying, that one is lost on me. But look, it’s not my problem those girls are in love with him and he’s in love with me.”
“Are we watching a live reenactment ofA Midsummer Night’s Dream?” Cami asks.
“If so, then you’re Puck,” Eugenia decides.
“Me?” Cami raises an eyebrow. “Why am I Puck?”
“Don’t think I wasn’t listening when you predicted this exact scenario at the donut breakfast months ago.”
Camila smirks. “I am sort of omniscient, aren’t I?”
Eugenia takes another sip of her drink. Her eyes drift over to Andrew’s. “I don’tmeanto hurt anyone’s feelings,” she says, her voice softening into wistful territory. “But I can’t have it all, and for the next several years, I need to prioritize my career.” She turns to look at me. “Same as you did. Right?”
“I don’t think it’s true you can’t have it all.” I nod at Camila, whose eyes soften. “Cami and David have been together since she was twenty-two, and she’s one of the most successful businesswomen I know. My college boyfriend and I didn’t last not because I couldn’t have made it work,” I explain, “but because he wasn’t the right person for me. When youfindthe right person, your brain moves past wanting to have it all. Instead, you start to think about how you can have as much as possible with each other.”
“That’s…” Camila tilts her head, biting on a smile. “Exactly right.”
“I can be wise sometimes,” I say.
“You guys aren’t helping,” Eugenia grumbles. “He goes to UDub! And yeah, I dumped him, but it hurt my feelings he slept with Eva.”
“Which one is Eva?” Cami asks.
“The software engineering major,” someone reminds her.
“What does yourhearttell you?” I ask Eugenia, only halfway serious.
She considers for several long moments, her gaze lingering on the freckled boy in question over Camila’s shoulder. At this point, everyone at our table, including the retail team, is waiting on her answer with bated breath.
“My heart tells me if it’s meant to be, Andrew and I will find our way back to each other,” she decides, and then nods once. “But right now, it’s not a relationship I would describe as healthy. And we don’t give our unconditional love to the things that hurt us.”
We all stare in stunned silence.
“I can be wise sometimes,” Eugenia says.
I find Derrick in the Revenant office, just as I predicted.
It’s perfectly quiet up here, save for the soft tapping of his fingertips on his laptop keyboard. He’s in his favorite conference room, the lights dimmed, his salt-and-pepper hair pushed away from his face, wire-rimmed glasses across the bridge of his nose.
When he spots me through the glass wall, he doesn’t look surprised.
“What’s that?” he asks when I open the door.
I set the six-pack of pilsner down on the table. “You weren’t at the party, so I brought you some beer.”
He gives me a half smile. “Crack them open.”
I pull two cans out of the plastic and pop the tabs. “What are you doing?”
