Page 117 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

ICE CREAM

PRESENT

Our days together are so full, our nights so precious, I almost forget to follow up on Aurora’s request. Or rather, more truthfully, I forget until she texts me, asking whether I’ve looked into Algan, the tiny tech startup she interned at.

Doing so now, I text Aurora, wondering why it’s so important that this happen now, when I have so few days and hours left in Hawaii. The rash has more or less subsided, my hair is black (still thin, but at least now dyed the correct color), and I’m in paradise, trying to squeeze what last little bit of joy I can, while I can.

For once, Lucas is the one napping, post-sex, after we’d decided on an early night, skipping the Nobu dinner everyone else seemed excited about.

I start reading about Algan Tech. Ten minutes later, I wake Lucas.

“You’re purchasing Algan?”

Lucas twists to half face me before finally propping himself up, squinting at me. “My company’s taking a controlling share, yes. Though not for another month.”

“And it’s Qi’s company.”

“Yes.”

“Qi, Brody’s old roommate from Caltech.”

I wait for a beat, certain Lucas will give in. “Brody and I were both original investors. But it was Qi’s partner—who refuses to marry him, for now—who floated the idea of a women in STEM internship.”

“So Aurora got this, fair and square.”

Lucas is silent for a beat too long. “I made sure we advertised at Aurora’s high school.” I look at him, and Lucas holds out his hands palms up. “She sometimes has emailed me questions. But she didn’t initially know I was involved, and I was completely uninvolved in the selection process. Qi recused himself as well, once he knew of the connection.”

“Was she okay with it, once she found out?”

“Mostly. We did . . . have words. But I assured her she was one of our top three candidates. And we took five.”

“What if she’d been one of the top twenty applicants?”

Lucas doesn’t try to lie. “I might have considered funding a larger class of interns, spread them out over a couple of companies.

“She first emailed me a few years ago, asking if I remembered her and saying she wanted to ‘grow her network.’ Later”—a faint smile, a shake of his head, as if my sister is a misbehaving puppy whose antics he can’t help but be amused by—“Aurora said she needed ‘people who aren’t Lorelai’ to look at her résumé.”

“She just shamelessly exploited you as a résumé editor?”

“Basically.”

I don’t bother asking why Aurora might have hidden something like this from me. This was, after all, during the time when I also shared . . . nothing with her.

My phone beeps with alerts to indicate a new story right as someone pounds on our door.

I reach for the phone, and Lucas reaches for his pants so he can see who’s knocking.

On the phone is an alert from my program and several headlines, most of which say and show the same thing:

Over Before It’s Begun? Upstart Politician and Rising Starlet Have Blowout Fight Days Before Million-Dollar Destination Wedding!

And below that, pictures of Brody and Vi on their balcony, clearly in the midst of an intense battle. There are close-ups of Vi crying. At least one of Brody burying his face in his hands. And it’s a very, very long article, full of sources who have—exclusive!—revealing details as well as purported snippets of parts of their argument, transcribed for the curious.

I join the boys in the living area. Brody sinks into the couch, looking exhausted. He’s wearing the same clothes as he was in the pictures, which means that they argued through the night or . . . he spent the night elsewhere? Neither is a good sign.

“I fucked up.”

It doesn’t take long for the entire story to come out: They went to Nobu, squabbled about the fact that Brody couldn’t name Vi’s favorite dish, that Khloe knew her twin better. It escalated from there, with passive-aggressive digs half veiled for the sake of company.