Page 157 of Finance Bros

I countmyself lucky that Norah is the way she is. I think it would take an act of God, or at least many shots of tequila for her to actually make a move. She’s flirtier long distance than she is in person, and so she really does want the office gossip and to vent about her presentation. Her smiles and lingering looks are the only hint that there’s ever been a spark of heat between us, but the morning I spend with her is almost completely platonic.

It’s over lunch that the conversation veers into more personal territory.

We’re at Big Bites. We cut out of the office around eleven-thirty, earlier than most people leave for lunch. She said the protein bar wasn’t cutting it, and I suggested the deli.

She eases into the subject of us by asking, “Are you still thinking you might want to check out the Seattle offices?”

“I haven’t ruled it out,” I say, which, admittedly, is a different tune than I was singing at the beginning of the summer.

“So…Malcolm…?” she says.

I flash a glance up at her from my menu. “Yeah?”

“I saw the TikTok where he fell.”

“I figured you might have.”

“You wanna say more?”

I sigh and push the menu aside. I get the same thing every time I’m here anyway. “He’s a risk,” I say.

“You hate those,” is her soft reply.

“I don’t hatehim, though.”

“No, it didn’t look like it.”

“Look, in my defense, I thought he hit his head.”

“He did hit his head. On the floor.”

“The thing is he’s had this girlfriend since high school, and she’s been out of town. They were serious about each other.”

“And now?”

“I really wanted to move on from this,” I say, defeated.

Her expression is sympathetic. She reaches across the table to hold my hand. “He’s your stepbrother isn’t he?”

“Was. Hewasmy stepbrother.”

“There is something sort of…I don’t know. Magic between you.”

“Between us, or is it just me being stupid?”

She frowns. “Why stupid?”

I give her a condensed version of our troubled history and she says, “You weren’t stupid. And you weren’t the asshole.”

“He turned me into one, though.”

“It sounds more like you turned yourself into one,” shedisagrees. “Which is totally understandable defense against how you were treated.”

“I just—if it hadn’t been so disastrous when it went wrong the first time, it might be easier to trust these feelings.”

I’m relieved she doesn’t look heartbroken. Maybe she saw me as a long shot, too, or maybe I misread the whole situation with her in general. Who the fuck knows? I’m not exactly a genius at knowing when someone likes me, much less wants me.

“You’re a stronger person now. You have a life you’re building. You have a million opportunities. And you’re what? Twenty-four?”

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