“I’ll eat anything,” I heard Finn say from the other room. It was a perfectly reasonable response, but for some reason my brain heard it as something filthy.Get your act together, Emma, I berated myself.You have a boyfriend; you shouldn’t be lusting over some guy from high school.But of course, Finn could never be just “some guy.”
I shrugged into my black leather jacket as I walked back into the main living area. Finn gave me an appraising look that made me shiver.
“You look so New York.” He quirked a smile at me.
“I think that’s a compliment?” I said, smiling back. Sybil looked back and forth between the two of us. “You look so SF.…” I motioned toward his standard-issue tech-bro fleece vest, then raised an eyebrow. “Well, maybe not the hat.” Finn had on a familiar worn baseball cap with the Dallas Cowboys logo.
Outside, Sybil hailed us a cab to NoLita. She piled into the car first, which left me in the middle seat. For the entirety of the short ride, I tried to ignore Finn’s thigh pressed against mine. With each stop and start of the taxi, the cotton of hispant leg slid against the whisper-thin nylon of my tights. I darted a quick look over at him, but he seemed totally unfazed, his eyes out the window. I decided that if Finn was going to be unaffected, then I would be too.
Now someone just had to tell my central nervous system.
We went to dinner at a Cuban-Mexican restaurant that Sybil loved, and between sips of frozen mojitos and bites of roasted corn slathered in mayonnaise and cotija cheese, everything started to feel a little more normal. Finn and I hadn’t really been in touch throughout college, save for occasional run-ins back home in Dallas, so there was plenty to catch up on. And like Sybil had said, Finn was our friend. When the bill came and Finn’s arm reached around me to grab it, it was afriendlywarmth that suffused my entire body—nothing more.
After dinner, we headed a few blocks east to another bar, one that Sybil swore had the best music. Finn went to go grab us seats, while I leaned against the honey-brown wood of the bar and waited to catch the bartender’s attention. After I placed our order, I looked over at Sybil, who had both hands, and her full attention, on her phone.
“Is there another puppy emergency at the Floyd household?” I asked. Sybil had been working as an assistant for B-list celebrity Amity Floyd for the last six months. Her previous gig, an internship at the clothing brand Zimmerman, had failed to turn into a full-time—and, more importantly,paid—position. So, when she had a chance meeting with Amity while waiting in line for Cronuts in Williamsburg, Sybil jumped at the opportunity to become her new PA. Amity sounded nice enough, but she seemed dogged (literally) by minor catastrophe after minor catastrophe. She never hesitated to send Sybilmultiple texts in a row outside of work hours. She also had, in my opinion, a truly heinous habit where if Sybil didn’t respond quickly enough, she’d tap back each text with a question mark.
Sybil smiled as she finished typing out her text. “No, Fitzwilliam has been sent to doggy Harvard for four months of obedience training.” She looked at me, looked at her phone, looked back at me, and seemed to come to some decision. Tucking her phone back into her purse, she said, “Sebastian’s back in town for the night. Then he’s going to central Asia for who knows how long.”
I didn’t know if it was the mojito buzzing through my veins or the fact that things seemed to be going well with Finn, but I said, “You should go see him.”
“No, I’m not going to abandon you to Finn,” Sybil said firmly, but her hand drifted back to the clasp on her purse like she was itching to pull her phone out again.
“I can handle Finn, Sybs. You only get to see Sebastian like once a quarter.” The bartender placed our drinks in front of me.
“Are you sure?” Sybil asked, but she was already pulling on her coat.
“I’m totally sure.”
“Well, y’all do seem to be hitting it off,” she said, looping her purse across her body. “Say goodbye to Finn for me. Just tell him he can crash in my bed. Or don’t.” Before I could argue, she pulled me into a bear hug, squeezing out a laugh from me. “You know, if you just talk to him about something boring like the mating habits of Australian marsupials, he’ll be all over you.”
“I don’t want him to be all over me!” I said, wriggling out of her hug. “I’m with Preston.”
“Preston is so bleh, and you are so… so.” She didn’t seem to be able to find the words, so she wiggled her fingers in front of my face like she was casting a spell.
“I’m so-so?” I asked.
She huffed out a laugh and dropped her hands. “No, you little weirdo. You’re sospecial.” Sybil’s phone lit up again, and she glanced at it. “Okay, I’m going to go. Thanks, Em. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“That doesn’t leave much,” I called after her.
Sybil winked at me, then headed for the door.
I made my way to the high-top in the back where Finn was waiting, and slid all three drinks onto the table. “Sybil’s gone.”
“Where’d she go?” He didn’t sound particularly concerned—or surprised. Which was fair; he knew Sybil almost as well as I did. It wasn’t unlike her to bolt.
“Sebastian.”
“Ah, the man, the myth, the legend,” Finn said, and I got the distinct impression that he’d also been on the receiving end of endless texts about Sebastian all through summer and now into fall.
“He’s not that impressive.” I pulled the two tequila sodas toward me and pushed Finn’s beer toward him. “She’s been running after him for months. It’s not like her. Usually her attention fades. But she really likes him, so I told her to go.”
Finn raised his eyebrows and took a swig of his beer. “You told her to go?”
“I just want her to be happy, and right now Sebastian makes her over-the-moon happy.” I didn’t mention that the week afterhe leaves town we were usually knee-deep in Ben and Jerry’s and nineties rom-coms. “Though I’m not totally sure why.”
“Maybe she likes the thrill of the chase.”
