The silence between us is thick, even over the phone.
“I’m sorry,” she goes on. “I know it’s not the ideal dynamic.”
“That’sputting it lightly.”
It comes out more like a growl than I mean it to. The last person I’d choose to spend an afternoon with—let alonetwelve nights in the wilderness, where an entire group is relying on us to have good teamwork—is Matteo Sabatelli. After how he called me two years ago from Peru to tell me he’d felt the need for a change and had spontaneously moved therewith my girlfriend, Blair, who had conveniently neglected to mention any plans about trading our eight-month-long relationship for a new one with Matteo in South America…
Yeah. It’s safe to say Matteo Sabatelli is the last person on the planet I want as my coleader. It’s hard to believe we were ever friends, let alone best friends. We haven’t spoken since that phone call.
“Everyone else is either committed to other treks, out of state on vacation, or sick,” Danica explains. “It was either bring in Matteo or cancel the whole thing.”
She doesn’t have to elaborate on why canceling wasn’t an option—people have flown in for this. It’s almosttwo weeksof their summer, not to mention one of the most expensive itineraries we offer. We can’t afford to give refunds to an entire group. We can’t afford to give refunds to anyone at all.
“Andhe’sokay with it?” I ask. “Coleading with me?”
It’s been long enough now that I’m over Blair. But Matteo and I—we were like brothers. His betrayal cut deep.
I didn’t even know he’d moved back to California.
“Matteo will keep it professional,” Danica replies. “I trust you’ll do the same.”
“Yeah, no, of course,” I say. “The trek comes first. I can do it.”
I don’twantto do it. Not with him.
But I can. I will.
“You’re sure he’s reliable, though?” I ask. “You trust him?”
I’m not the only person Matteo ditched when he took off for South America—he left Danica and the tour company in a bind, too. I’ve had to pick up the slack ever since; it was a huge blow to the business to lose Matteo and Blair at the same time, and it’s been difficult to find competent and committed replacements who stick around longer than a few months.
“I spoke with Matteo’s boss from the tour group down in the Andes,” Danica replies. “He had nothing but good things to say and told me he was sorry to see him go.”
I sigh. It says a lot that Danica has decided to give him a second chance. At the end of the day, being a responsible and reliable leader is all that really matters—and Matteo always fit that description before he took off like he did. I’ll just have to put my personal feelings aside and hope for the best.
“Not my first choice,” I finally say. “But I’ll make it work.”
“Thanks for understanding, Thorn. I’ll mark off some extra paid vacation days for you after this one, okay? I know this situation isn’t ideal.”
I close my eyes, trying to ward off the headache that’s taken up residence in my skull. Paid vacation days sound great on paper, but in reality? There’s never really a great time for me to actually step away. The last time I took off longer than a weekend was six months ago, when I spent the holidays with my dad out in San Francisco.
“Sounds good,” I tell her.
Goodisn’t exactly the right word, but whatever.
“You still have Matteo’s number?” Danica asks.
“I deleted it a long time ago. Send it my way?”
“Done. Okay.”
“Okay.”
The dead air hangs between us.
Another beat passes, and then Danica says, “You’re the best, Thorn. And I’m so sorry for what he and Blair did to you—you didn’t deserve that.”
That means a lot coming from Danica; she’s been nothing but professional in the wake of what happened, even though she would have been justified to complain.
