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I’m glad about that. Iam.
“Christopher?”
I blink, pulled from my thoughts, and force myself to meet Jamie’s eyes. “Sorry. My mind wandered.”
His mouth quirks at the corner. “Hmm.”
“Don’t you and your ‘hmm-ing’ have a job to go to?”
His smile deepens. “They do. I was saying, if you’re feeling unsure about how things are progressing with Kate, why don’t we put together a friend-group activity? Something fun and bonding.”
I grimace. “I don’t know. So far group settings have been a disaster with me and Kate.”
“Give it one more try,” he says. “I’ll handle it, all right? You’ve got enough on your plate. Fun activities aren’t my wheelhouse, but I’m good at outsourcing. I’ll have help.”
“Oh, Lord no. You’re going to fold in the whole friend group, and you have no idea the meddling mayhem those fools can cause.”
Jamie tips his head. “Why, Christopher, it’s almost like you’re aware there’s some precedent in this group for meddlesome chaos.”
I point a finger at him. “That... was different. You and Bea were different.”
“How? I mean, I’m not displeased with the results, but the means, my friend, they were dicey.”
“You two had a spark. As an expert on flirtatious chemistry, I am qualified to make these judgments, and the spark was there. You just got off to a terrible start. You needed a little nudge to give each other a chance.”
“ ‘A little nudge to give each other a chance,’ you say?” Taking a step backward in the direction he’ll head for his practice, Jamie grins. “Hmm. Sounds like it just might be time to take a page out of your own book.”
I scowl at him. “I liked you, Jamie. We had a true bromance, a good thing going. And now you gotta throw my own behavior in my face.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry, we’ll take it easy on you. Just a fun, bonding group outing, something that might move you and Kate a little farther along the path to peace.”
“Have you met that woman? Peace is about as familiar a concept to her as a savings account.”
“Give me some credit.” Jamie takes another step back into the flow of morning commuter foot traffic. “I’ll make sure it’s in your interest to play nice, forbothof you to. You’ll be right there with her, on the same side.”
I narrow my eyes. Kate and me? Side by side?
Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.
•SEVENTEEN•
Kate
Christopher’s office is different than I expected. No massive, chilly, corporate skyscraper with a bird’s-eye view, pedestrians turned to insignificant specks on the ground.
From three floors up, people are still people, yet somehow more vulnerable from this perspective—a sea of ducked-down heads and hunched shoulders against the cold, shrunk to miniature size, delicate and numerous. I wonder if this is intentional. If Christopher meant for his employees to see and be reminded that there are people out there, on the other side of every choice we make.
I turn away from the tall, nearly floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city block, taking in the view from his desk.
Office doors here are open, so energetic voices carry down the halls that lead to Christopher’s office. Luscious green-leaf plants and plush, dense carpet soften the hard edges of the space’s mid-century furniture and severe, geometric layout.
Spinning in Christopher’s desk chair, I curl my hands around its worn leather armrests until the world is a blur that looks as mixed-up as I feel sitting here, waiting for him.
The walls of his office are a warm, cozy color dancing between white and taupe—the color of a sleepy Sunday, a rainy afternoon nap. His desk seems old but well maintained and tidy, polished walnut that reflects the sunlight pouring in. No papers on thedesk, only a calendar to the left with a word of the day, which I didn’t see coming, and to the right, a beautiful black-and-white photo of his family that makes my chest ache.
Either they used the world’s best family photographer or it’s a candid shot, because it’s so damn hard to get people to relax and be themselves when they’re posing for you. I’ve perfected the art of telling people I got the shot, then snapping it as soon as they relax, but that doesn’t always work. Sometimes you have to stay and be patient, find that moment they loosen up and joy comes back and their personality shines through. It took me years to hone that skill.
Gio’s in profile, clear proof of where Christopher got his tousled waves and sharp jaw, deep laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and a wide smile as he looks down at his wife and son. Nora’s curly dark hair is a halo around her head, her amber eyes, just like Christopher’s, sparkling and warm. She sits with her arms wrapped around Christopher, her chin on his head as both of them smile up at Gio.
