He wondered what Florence had been telling her employees. Whether Tisha would have still been so sure of Florence’s victory if she knew why Eli was here and what he’d been doing for the past few hours.
The thought was a good reminder that he was here to get shit done—not to stare open-mouthed at Rue and moon over how good she smelled. “It was nice to meet you in person, Tisha, but I’d better go.”
“’Kay. And, like, no hard feelings, but feel free to never come back,” she said cheerfully.
“I’ll do my best.”
He couldn’t help his smile as he headed for the exit. When he heard the bathroom door open and shut, he was proud of himself for not turning around.
15
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?
RUE
When I stepped out of the bathroom stall, Tisha was there, nonchalantly leaning against one of the sinks, studying her perfectly lacquered nails. She didn’t bother looking up before asking, “Rue, what the hell are you doing?”
I said nothing and went to wash my hands, wondering if I was too drunk for this conversation.
“Listen, I love you, Rue. I’m not here to judge you, or to make you feel bad—because it’s clear that you already feel like shit. Otherwise you’d have told me what you were up to.”
My chest hurt. I tried to think of a response, and found none.
“Are you in love with him?”
“What?” My eyes met Tisha’s through the mirror. I tried to let out a derisive laugh, but the sound that came out of me was choked. “No.”
“Do you think you could be? If this continues?”
“I—no.”
She sighed. “I know it’s a ridiculous question. But this is so ridiculously out of character for you, I had to ask.”
“No. No, I’m not in love with him. I’ve met him a handful of times.” I turned around to face her directly. “It was once. The sex was good. And he’s . . . I don’t know. Easier for me to be around than most people. But it’s not—there’s nothing.”
Tisha examined me, a vertical line forming between her brows. “Listen, if you . . . if there’s something between you guys, something real, I’m going to be first in line to support that. My loyalty is to you before Florence, or Kline, or even my own damn sister. Not Bruce, though.” Her lips twitched. I exhaled a small laugh, too. “But if you’re seeing Eli just because he’s a good fuck, then you need to stop right now and find someone who’s going to be less of a problem. Because he and his buddies could still take away Florence’s lifework. And even if they don’t manage that, who knows how many people they’ve stolen from. Will steal from. Florence deserves better than this, but the most important thing is, you deserve better than this. Okay?”
I didn’t know what to say. So I just nodded, and when Tisha came closer and wrapped her arms around me, I hugged her right back.
16
HIS HEAD BETWEEN ANOTHER WOMAN’S LEGS
ELI
Just as Eli had expected, he didn’t hear from sober Rue—not the following day, nor the following week. It was one thing to be drunk and horny, another to follow through in the harsh daylight. Rue clearly ran her life like a tight ship, and Eli couldn’t imagine there being room for him in it—not past the chemical help alcohol could provide.
By a stroke of luck, time didn’t allow him to be too mournful. One of Harkness’s agri-tech startups was in dire need of a sudden influx of cash, and someone was required on-site to figure out the best strategy. Hark was in California, so Eli volunteered, thinking that some distance from Austin would be ideal. Then a two-day trip to Iowa turned into five days of meetings and inspections, and on the return flight he fell stone-cold asleep in his seat, his head a jumbled exhaustion of aerial imaging, crop health, and asymmetrical lips. The amused look the flight attendant gave him told him he’d drooled all over himself.
Once he was back, Minami got sick, and Sul took time off to take care of her, which meant that most day-to-day shit fell to Eli and Hark, but he didn’t mind too much. Because Eli liked his job.
The realization had sunk into him not too long ago, a gradual acknowledgment more than a thundering moment of selfawareness. His conscientious choice of an expendable major aside, finance had never been part of his dreams. And yet, he was good at it. Nearly ten years ago they’d started Harkness with a singular, specific destination, but the journey had surprised him more than once, and he couldn’t help wondering what would happen once they reached their port of call. Whether they’d come far enough.
Had he come far enough?
A week after his trip, he stumbled home past midnight, exhausted by the back-to-back meetings, and found a note scribbled in Maya’s handwriting on the kitchen counter.
I know you’re busy making several shitloads of monies, but will Tiny and I ever see you again?
To the side there was a chicken potpie covered in cellophane wrap. He smiled, recalling the whys and the hows of his past choices.
Maybe it wasn’t far enough, but it was certainly far.
Minami and Sul returned to work looking rested and more joined at the hip than usual, so much so that Eli wondered if they’d faked being sick and gone on a sex cruise. There was a newlywed energy between them that was about three years late, and if Eli had picked up on it, it was being drilled into Hark’s skull with the force of a swarm of termites.
That night Hark said, “Need to blow off some steam,” and Eli drove them to the gym without any comments. But the racquetball court they’d reserved was already occupied by two women. “Fucking brilliant,” Hark muttered under his breath.
“Did you two book the room?” one asked.
Eli smiled. “No worries. We’ll ask for another.”
“There are none. Someone else was using the one we booked, so we came in here.”
Eli glanced at Hark, whose mood was rapidly deteriorating. “That’s fine. We’ll just wait till you’re done.”
“Or, want to join us for doubles?” the other player asked with a grin.
Eli looked at Hark again, who shrugged an indifferent why not. They split up one man and one woman per team, and if Eli thought that it was because he and Hark would otherwise have an advantage, that notion was instantly, humblingly dispelled.
“You two play a lot?” he asked his teammate half an hour later, during a much-needed water break. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe his sweat. It was already drenched.
“Almost every day when we were in college. Increasingly less so for the past five years,” she told him. “I’m Piper, by the way.”
“Eli.” He shook her hand. She was older than he’d originally thought, then. Tall, with long dark hair. Blue eyes. Beautiful, objectively so, but in a way that was completely different from Rue, who had the uncanny ability to soak up all the light in a room, like a prism that refused to spit out rainbows. Piper was bright and luminous and smiled a lot. Because she doesn’t despise you, a sardonic voice in his head suggested.