Taller than most, broad shoulders, sweep of his hair that looks like it’s still slightly damp from a shower. Familiar, he’s wearing a black shirt under his black suit; first few buttons undone, that hollow at the base of his neck visible, where she knows his cologne and the scent of his warm skin mingles. Comfortable posture, his dark eyes look over the crowd, following Meredith’s gaze; it’s unfair, how handsome he is—edging into beautiful, honestly, and before she can help it, Lili starts to smile, just as he catches sight of her.
An immediate—stupid—bloom of something like lightness rises in her chest—surprise, she thinks, maybe some excitement; easier to explain than this dangerous joy—but as soon as it starts, it stutters.
He said he’d be back on Sunday.
He said he’d be back on Sunday, but instead he’s here—in New York, at a party—standing with Jamie’s family—with a woman at his side—that tall brunette from his office, exceptionally pretty, maybe thirty at most, who has a high, mischievous laugh as she makes some aside to Michael and the Greenes, all looking like they know one another well.
Instead of smiling, Lili frowns. Aleksandr’s gaze narrows at the same time, slipping down; not looking her up and down, but glaring at Jamie’s arm, settled around her waist. His jaw tightens.
Lili lifts her chin. “Come on,” she says, not relenting under Aleksandr’s stare. “Let’s socialize.”
James throws back the last of his drink. “I suppose the fastest way out is through.”
Flashing on a bright smile, she lets him lead them to his family and their guests.
“Lili!” Meredith exclaims. “It’s been so long, we’ve missed you.”
“It’s wonderful to see you, too,” James interjects, as Meredith kisses Lili’s cheeks.
“I saw you last week, darling,” Meredith says, patting his arm; their relationship has always been cordial, if veering on aggressively neutral on his part, and determinedly optimistic on hers. “Now, Lili, how are you? Tell us everything.”
“Still slaving away in academia?” George—his father—asks.
“Working on my thesis, yes,” she replies, trying to focus on the lingering scent of Meredith’s perfume—languid, powdery notes of Chanel No. 5—trying to push away the pounding in her ears,ignoringthe familiar presence that comes to stand beside her.
“You’re studying the Amish?” George asks.
“Protestants.”
“Ah, of course, of course. Andrew, this was the girl I was telling you about,” George says to an unfamiliar man in the group. “Lili Marwan. Brilliant mind, bright young thing.”
“Andrew does remarkable work in ESG integration at BlackRiver,” Meredith offers. “We thought you could start exploring post-graduation options.”
“Lili’sveryinterested in integration with BlackRiver,” James says. Lili elbows him hard, provoking a muffled grunt.
“Of course, I’d much rather see you at Goldman,” George adds, “but BlackRiver does some good work.”
“What a glowing endorsement,” Andrew acknowledges, grinning. “A pleasure,” he says to Lili.
“And the other enemies in our midst,” George continues. “Michael Vasiliev, keeps their whole firm running, and Kara Taylor—one day we’ll lure you out of that building, Taylor, mark my words—”
“Likely in a coffin,” the woman—Kara, who’d been standing beside Aleksandr at the office that night, sharp heels and a wink, who Lili didn’t think twice about, and she could laugh at herself for being such an idiot—replies, glowing red lipstick spreading into a stunning smile. Even her voice is beautiful.
“—and last, Petrov, my most cherished rival,” George says. Lili does not let herself look at the tall man—theliar—standing beside her. “How’re the latest earnings looking?”
“It’s a strong market at the moment.”
And his voice, his voice,his voice—
Lili finishes the last of her drink.
George chuckles. “At Goldman, we like to say our performance is driven by our fundamentals.”
“Well, you might come close to our halfway watermark soon,” Michael comments, crisp French cuffs as he rotates his drink, amber liquid, square ice cube. Lili zeroes in on the motion, focusing on the repetitive slide of ice against glass, trying to hold it together, attempting to beat back this rash of heat rising up her throat: anger, frustration,stupidity, because she was sostupid. “Rising tides truly seem to lift all boats.”
George frowns. “I’d say our influence extends beyond the ticker. I understand that’s not the case for newer firms like BlackRiver.”
“We are unfortunately committed to overperformance,” Kara replies. Lili would think it funny—light enough for conversation, sharp enough to be incisive—if she didn’t smile at Aleksandr as she said it.
