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But...he’s leaving, and he doesn’t want kids.
They definitely are not one and the same.
“I’M SETTING YOU UP,” Molly concludes when I tell her about the incident over our lunch break two days later. “The man spent a year waiting on a woman who clearly doesn’t want him, and now he’s moving to New York? Come on, Lucie. This guy is the ultimate dead end.”
I frown. “Okay, but it’s actually pretty admirable that he—”
She stabs her salad with unnecessary aggression. “Lucie, did he or did he not tell you point blank that he hates kids?”
“That’s not exactly what he said,” I mutter. She may have a point, though: there’s absolutely no benefit to persisting with a crush I wouldn’t act on even if I could. “But I don’t know if I want to be set up.”
There’s guilt in Molly’s laugh. “I misspoke earlier when I made it sound like something I wasgoingto do. The guy’s name is Stuart and he’s at a lab in Germany this month, but he’s going to call you when he gets back to town.”
“Molly,” I groan. “No. I’m not ready. And also...his name is Stuart. Name one cool guy named Stuart.”
“Look, he’s a physicist. None of them have hot names. That’swhy my son will be named Damien. No one named Damien grows up to be a geek.”
“I’m pretty sure if your name is Damien, you grow up focused on ruling hell,” I reply. “But anyway, I’m not sure about being set up and—”
“Luce, he’s cute. If I didn’t already have wedding preparations with Michael O’Connor underway, I’d be all over it.”
I choke on the water I’m swallowing. “Yes, you sound very close to a wedding, what with the way you still use his last name when you refer to him.”
“You need to get Caleb out of your head, and the way to do that is to put another man there in his place. Hopefully one who also rocks your world in bed.”
“Stuart the physicist sounds unlikely torock my worldin bed.”
She shrugs in agreement, carefully pressing a napkin to her lips—she’s the only person I know who can perfectly keep lipstick on throughout a meal. “This is true. But Damien O’Connor would, right?”
“Yes, Molly. Your unborn son, my future sexual partner, will be amazing.”
She sighs. “You always have to take it too far.”
21
LUCIE
Caleb’s been coming to the beach almost every night. Maybe my first weeks at TSG were unusually hectic for him, but he seems to leave the office a bit earlier each day. Sometimes, he’s got a little project for Henry. At others, he plays the code game with Sophie—guessing ridiculous words for the letters she’s offered him.
G, he suggests, must stand forgarrulous.Rforresidualsorrecividism. She argues that he’s being unfair, but the very next night she’s using those new, big words on him.
She’s just run back to Henry, after attempting to use the word “homogenous” and botching it, when I turn and gently remind him not to be a dick at the upcoming staff meeting.
“A dick?” he repeats. “You fucking millennials want a meeting and your free coffee and you’re getting it, on my dime. How could anyone possibly think I was a dick?”
“Use of the term ‘fucking millennials', for starters,” I reply.
I spend Wednesday fretting, wandering through the auditorium and worrying that it will be too crowded with the tables for coffee and bagels inside rather than out. I oversee the setup of the sound system I rented, and have just closed the auditoriumdoors, determined not to worry anymore, when Kayleigh calls to say I’ve got a delivery.
I frown. I’m picking up the food tomorrow myself. I didn’t order anything else. “What is it?”
“You’ll probably figure it out when you get it off my fucking desk,” she replies, helpful as ever.
I head downstairs and my stomach drops from twenty feet away.
A bouquet of roses so huge it takes up half the reception desk sits there. Stuart and I have been texting and he seemed relatively normal, but sending two dozen roses to a woman you’ve never met is definitelynotnormal and I can’t imagine who else would have sent them.
I swallow as I reach for the card attached to the bouquet.
