Page 5 of Return on Love

I tried setting up an unofficial meeting with Bernard to get his sense on the company, but he’s been too busy. “Sometimes I wish I was still an Associate,” he told me the last time I called him up. “The higher you go, the dirtier the politics gets. As for MooreGames, I can’t talk about it with you. It could get us both in trouble. Given the situation brewing in the firm, this deal getting through will help both of us. So do your best. Ryan is a good man. So is his team. I’m sure you’ll get along well with them and add value.”

Good man? I respect Bernard and his opinions, but his statement makes me doubt his sanity. Maybe the office politics has got to him, and he has lost the ability to decipher good from bad. Maybe he meant ‘bad man.’ Evil Incarnate. The Sith lord.

The silver lining for me is that, I haven’t interacted with Ryan so far, like not once. His Chief Finance Officer, Gabriel, has been in touch with me. He’s the one who has sorted out a cozy apartment for me, right by their office, for the entire three-month Boston stint. He seems like a pleasant fellow, pretty chill, quite unlike his boss. Is it too much to hope that I can work with Gabriel for three months, without seeing Ryan? A girl can hope, can she not? Fingers crossed.

I don’t feel like working, so I re-read one of my favorite Agatha Christie mysteries, “Death on the Nile”. The entire book is almost committed to my memory, so it’s a quick little read. I need to work a little on the financial model for MooreGames, but it’s a total no-go right now. I gaze out at those fluffy clouds and the blue skies, hoping they’ll put me in a good mood. But what do I get? Ryan’s face, right when he turned into a puke fountain all over me. Not the mental image I’m gunning for. What kind of man is he? He’s even spoiled cloud-gazing for me.

I need another distraction ASAP. “The Empire Strikes Back” comes to my rescue. I always have a copy of the first six Star Wars movies locked and loaded on my system for these exact moments. By the time I’m done and the credits roll, the plane is about to land. Talk about perfect timing!

I walk out with my two bags loaded onto the trolley. Someone is holding a placard with my name. I wave at him. Gabriel had said he’d send a driver to pick me up and take me to the apartment. The driver, Ali, is from Pakistan and has recently moved to the US. His English isn’t exactly award-winning, and after a few opening lines, we both zone out into silence. Not that I’m up for small talk, anyway.

I receive a message from Bernard. “Put on your A-game for this deal. I’m counting on you.”

Yup. No pressure. Only my ex-boss, who means a lot to me, is counting on me to get this deal through while all I want is to run away. I send him a thumbs-up emoji.

It’s afternoon, and in some hours, I’ll need to get my act together for that party in the evening. Not exactly my scene—I’m more of a chill-in-my-room-with-a-book-or-game kinda gal, you know? Dancing with strangers isn’t my jam. And this party? It’s scraping the bottom of my “where I want to be” list. Could I feign some illness? Jet lag, maybe? It’s like only a three-hour time difference. Can’t really qualify for “jet lag” I guess. Ugh, why’s my life like this? Guess I gotta suck it up and get it over with. Maybe I can Jedi my way through the event, stick to the shadows and avoid meeting Ryan altogether.

The taxi stops in front of an apartment building. The guard is expecting me and ushers me inside. Ali is sweet enough to carry my heavy bags up to my apartment door, a cozy two-room suite on the second floor, before taking my leave. The first thing I spot is a bottle of Pinot Noir on the table, complete with a ribbon on its neck. I smile, thanking Gabriel for his thoughtfulness. I wonder how he knows I love, nay adore, Pinot Noir. It’s a different matter altogether that I can’t keep my alcohol beyond a few glasses, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it.

The apartment is perfect. There’s a tiny kitchenette in a corner. The fridge is loaded with some fruits, eggs and canned stuff. I roll my bags to the adjoining room. There’s this massive closet taking up one whole wall. And dead ahead is the warmest, coziest sight my eyes have met in, like, forever. The queen-size bed with a plush mattress is a whole different universe from the rock-hard plank I called a bed back in LA. And don’t even get me started on the oh-so-soft bedsheet and cloud-like fluffy cushions. This is even better than the hotels I usually stay at, which, trust me, are pretty good since the company pays for them. But this has that cozy, homely feeling that those business hotels lack.

I leave my bags in a corner and jump on the bed. Ah. It’s so comfy. I love this. I can sleep for days on end on this bed and still not want to wake up. Perhaps I can just sleep for three months. That’d be nice.

The trilling of my phone brings me back. I pull it out of my jeans pocket. Alex.

“Yo, bro. I’m in your town,” I say, still lying down and rubbing my face on the soft pillow. It’s such a stark contrast to mine, which was coarse enough to exfoliate.

“You wanna meet up tomorrow for lunch? Dad will also be joining.”

The mention of 'Dad' snaps me out of my Zen state and brings me crashing back to reality.

“Dad? How come he’s not traveling?”

Alex chuckles. “He has to travel on Monday. Believe it or not, he’s delaying his trip by a day to meet the both of us.”

“Why? Can I say no? We both know it’s you he wants to meet, not me. Plus, I could have work, y’know.”

“C’mon Eva. It won’t be that bad. And I really wanna meet you. It’s been, what, six months?”

I sigh. He knows I can’t say no to his emotional blackmail. “Yeah. Fine,” I say in a resigned tone. “I’ll see you. Text me the time and address. But if I walk off mid-way through the meal, don’t blame me.” There’s a ping on my phone. Lily’s call is on waiting. “Hey, Alex. Lily’s calling. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Lily!” There’s a brief pause. “How’s she doing?”

“Um. Fine. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Lily was a friend to both of us in our childhood. At one point, I believed Alex was dating her. Then something happened, and they stopped talking to each other. Neither is ever willing to talk about it, and I’ve left it at that.

“Well, you go ahead, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” Alex says, before disconnecting.

I call back Lily.

“Who were you busy talking to, girl? Was it Gabriel?” Lily asks as soon as she picks up.

I snort. “Alex.”

“Oh.” A pause and an awkward silence that always seemed to come in at the slightest mention of my brother’s name in front of Lily.

“Will you ever tell me what happened between the two of you?”

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