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That afternoon I go to the chancellor’s office, trying to keep my expectations low, reminding myself that Rob is often right, and he was right about this: working for a nonprofit has not done me a lot of favors so far. If the chancellor is going to offer me my old job back, or a crappy job in another department, I’m determined to say no.

We exchange pleasantries. He again seems far more interested in discussing my friendship with Olivia than anything else, and he asks if I think she might agree to be on the cover of the alumni magazine. Just as I’m beginning to wonder if Rob really was right and I’m only here because of my connection to Olivia, he shifts into business gear.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this,” he says, “but the marketing department has been in shambles since you left.”

I’m well aware of it, via Harper, but I just give a small nod.

“I’m wondering how you’d feel about becoming our new director of marketing,” he says.

My jaw drops. Not in a million years did I ever imagine Tim would walk away from that job.

“Tim quit?” I ask.

“Not exactly,” he says. “It’s become clear of late that Timothy is not up to the job, and we have a meeting set up with him later this afternoon to let him know as much.” He clears his throat. “The problem is that the office has fallen so far behind in the past month that we don’t have time to go through the normal channels—posting the position, et cetera. Although, honestly, we don’t really need to. We need someone who can hit the ground running, and we think that person is you, if you’re interested.”

I nod, speechless. If I were a better person, it would be enough for me that I’m being offered a job, particularly one with a starting salary nearly double what I made before. The fact that it’s Timothy’s job, though, makes it infinitely sweeter.

I walk back across campus to my car. I’m three-quarters of the way to the parking lot when I find myself heading straight toward Timothy.

If it were up to me, we’d just avoid each other, but he chooses to step into my path.

“You can’t be on campus,” he says. “You’re no longer an employee.”

“I’m an alum, Tim,” I reply. “I have every bit as much right to be here as you.”

His lips slide into an ugly smirk. “I’d ask you how the job hunt was going, but given that you’re on campus on a Tuesday afternoon, I guess I know the answer.”

And here I was feeling sorry for him…a little.

“I’m not too worried about it,” I reply.

“Well, you should be,” he says. “Who’s going to hire you? You’re persona non grata at the university, so good luck getting a recommendation from anyone here.”

I laugh, which he clearly was not expecting. Why was I ever intimidated by this man? He’s a 13-year-old bully in a man’s body, and not much of one at that.

“You never know what’s in store, Timothy,” I tell him. I glance back in the direction of the chancellor’s office. “Maybe even right around the corner.”

* * *

On the way home I call Brendan to tell him the good news.

“I’m still at the office,” he says. “Meet me here and we’ll go celebrate.”

It’s the first time he’s ever suggested I come by. “Really?” I tease to hide my uncertainty. “This doesn’t cross some work/private life divide of yours?”

“It would,” he says, “if there were a divide. But there isn’t anymore.”

I arrive to find his office is laid out very similarly to the one in which we first worked. I shout to him that I’m here and jump up on the tour desk, the way I always did that summer we worked together.

When he walks out, he comes to a dead stop.

“What?” I ask.

“You,” he says. “It just hit me, seeing you sitting like that, how you tortured me that summer we worked together.”

“I tortured you?” I guffaw. “I had such a crush on you, and you were so mean to me.”

“I was mean because I didn’t want you to have a crush. And because I didn’t want to have one on you, but the more I tried to avoid you, the worse it got until I couldn’t even think about anyone else.”