“I don’t know, it feels weird,” I complained, a hand to my forehead. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“I think that bridge has already come a lot.”
“Stop thinking about her coming. That’s my thing.”
She laughed, eyes sparkling, as she relaxed back in her seat. “All right. I’m just saying. Even Linyue likes her. Well, likedher before all of this went down. Here’s hoping she comes back around.”
“Linyue liking someone has been the biggest surprise in this whole thing…” I shook my head. “Any news from your side, speaking of?”
“Cheng Shiyi is interested in what kinds of events you’re running…”
“What, he’s still in the city?”
“I think I heard he’s extending his stay. Lots of long talks with your father.”
“Why do you know this better than I do?” I said, rubbing my forehead. “Imagine the face Linyue would pull if I invited Mr. Cheng to another unauthorized party, this one where the entire party itself is also unauthorized.”
She laughed. “I bet he’d love it,” she said. “Linyue asked me to babysit him one time, and he’s really enthusiastic about the fast-paced New York life. Give him an invite to a tech startup event that’s also a music industry event and he’ll lose his little mind.”
“We’ll… see about that.” I checked my phone. “I should probably get moving before long… I’ve barely touched my coffee.”
“It’s just Midtown, right? If you’re walking, I’ll tag along and we can talk logistics.”
We took off together, talking logistics, and I put everything out of mind as much as possible. Or I tried, anyway. But as I finished up with the financiers’ meeting and texted Julie the updates, I couldn’t help thinking about if there were a little heart at the end of her contact name.
It really would have been just like me to have a girlfriend who would exchange project documents and touch base on deliverables with me.
It was enough that by the time the sun went down and I heard the knocking on the front door of my apartment that said Julie had finished her last pitch meeting for the day and had gotten back, I couldn’t help myself. I leaned against the door, a smile growing on my face, as I spoke in my best low, seductive voice.
“And just who might you be?”
“Um, uh. Just need a signature for the delivery.”
That was not Julie. I put a hand over my face. I faked a rough, raspy voice, coughing a little, like that was why I’d talked like that. “Just one second,” I said, and I spent that one second pinching the bridge of my nose miserably before I opened the door, signed for a delivery, and took a package from a young man who looked a little flustered.
Not ten minutes later, the door knocked again, and I checked the peephole. Julie Branch, wearing her suit. Out of patience now, I wrenched the door open, and before she could say anything, I took the lapels of her suit jacket and pulled her into a kiss, and she let out a muffled grunt of surprise.
“I was hoping you’d have shown up earlier,” I said, my voice low, not far from her lips.
“Some… reason… why?” she said, a little dreamy, stars in her eyes. I paused.
“Just… because I wanted to kiss you. Come inside, I made food.”
She could tell there was something more to it, but also, importantly, she didn’t press it. This whole thing went to my grave with me.
We ate together, and even though conversation flowed as it always did, Julie talking excitedly about the points she’d been able to touch on today, I found there was just one little part of me that externalized, watching from the outside. And Estelle was right, frustratingly. I did look happy.
I was in the middle of my thoughts when a series of quick, sharp knocks came from my door, and my stomach tensed at the sound. This was too many people at my door for one evening. Especially because I recognized that precise knocking cadence.
So did Julie, from the look in her eyes, the way her expression tightened. “Is that—” she started, and I nodded, standing up.
“I guess she’s heard about us,” I said. “Do you need to be in the bathroom or something? She’s probably going to be angry.”
“And leave you to deal with the angry manager? She can yell at me all she likes, I have no dignity to crush. We go together. And I come back with my shield or on it.”
“Noble, Leonidas, but try not to die.”
She followed me to the entryway, where I took a second to steady myself before I opened the door. “Linyue,” I said at the figure, who, judging by the lack of her signature lavender suit jacket, must have been planning on sleeping for the night when she heard something about us and came running. “You could have texted me.”
