Page 4 of Someone Just Like You

Throwing a co-anniversary celebration was a thoughtful gesture. My mom had been so sad since Papi had passed. Hopefully, the party would bring her joy and give Mr. Stark incentive to lay off the fried food. Jude and I could certainly set aside our issues for one night. It wouldn’t be the first time. And until then? Well, it wasn’t like we’d have to plan the party as a duo or anything. We could all agreethatwould be a bad idea.

Chapter Two

Afew days later at work, I tapped the hardcover résumé in front of me. “I’m so glad you came in. You’re even more impressive in person than you are on paper,” I said.

“Thank you.” Patrice, the late-fifty-something Black woman on the other side of my office desk, gave me a wry smile. “Does that mean you have a job for me?”

Ignoring the beep of my iPhone, I scrolled through the list of job openings on our company’s internal database again. There were available positions for senior paralegals, for sure. But were any of them suitable for Patrice? The in-house legal department of a television station was seeking a legal assistant, but the head of the department was notorious for not supporting other women. There was also an opening for a paralegal at a midsize firm that claimed to prioritize life balance while simultaneously pressuring employees to work weekends and holidays.

Patrice had told me she was needed at home most nights to care for her young grandson. She was warm and friendly and deserved a collegial working environment. How could I connect her to a job with full knowledge it either didn’t fit her lifestyle or countless people had held it before her and quit out of sheer misery? She’d be back seeking a new job in a few months, likely with a different recruiter, one who hadn’t pocketed the commission for sending her to hell, and I’d have to return a portion to the client anyway. It wasn’t worth it.

“Not at the moment, unfortunately. But an amazing opportunity will come around and I’ll be excited to share it with you when it does.” This, at least, was true. Patrice was a referral from someone I’d staffed a few months before, and I’d called her for an interview without having any particular job opening in mind. She was my first referral, and I was especially motivated to get it right.

When she was gone, I checked Gmail on my phone. After reading Nicole’s message, I wished I hadn’t.

Both sets of parents love the city, so what better place to have the party than Manhattan?Jude and Molly:We’re putting you in charge of choosing the venue because you both live there. It’s a big responsibility, we know, but consider it a compliment and a tribute to our faith in you! Besides, your time is the most flexible since you’re both single and childless. I’ve attached a list of places you should consider.

My skin itchy with irritation, I emailed a response.

I’m happy to help with the venue, but since you (Nicole) also live in Manhattan and don’t have children, perhaps you can join us too.

Three wasnota crowd with a threatened twosome of Molly and Jude.

I went to the pantry to refill my coffee. When I returned to my office, there was a response from Nicole.

I’ll be too busy overseeing the planning but will be available for consultations and tiebreakers if you and Jude can’t agree.

I spat my coffee.Ifwe can’t agree? There was noif. And consultations? Really?

While I was still contemplating my reply, an email from Jude came in.

Thank you for organizing everything, Nicole. I know how the restaurant business works and my connections are far-reaching. I’m happy to take care of this.

I stared down at my phone. Well, that was unexpected. Thank you, Jude! I didn’t share his confidence in his party-planning abilities despite his so-called knowledge and connections, but I was grateful he’d volunteered. The less time we spent together, the better for everyone. Period.

And then another email from him landed in my inbox.

In case my last message wasn’t clear, I don’t need Mollyanna to come along if she’s too busy recruiting lawyers to help plan the party.

I squeezed the paper cup in my hand, forgetting it contained coffee—hot coffee. Howling, “Son of a bitch!” when the liquid seared my skin, I leaped off my chair. After wiping my arm down with leftover napkins from my lunch, I sank back down. The pain subsided but my rage didn’t. After all the years of Jude teasing me for being helpful, now he was insinuating I was trying to get out of doing my fair share of the work? That he didn’tneedme? Well, thanks to his inability to know when to stop, we were now partners. Though I couldn’t stand the idea of the two of us touring restaurants alone together, there was no way…no way…I was handing the reins over to Jude now. He would take all the credit and milk every second of it. And he’d hold it over me for a lifetime. Not happening.

That’s so sweet of you, Jude, but I’m not too busy at all. In fact, with my background in law, I’m a master in negotiations, which could come in handy in terms of pricing. Let’s combine our skills. Unless you’d prefer to sit this one out and let me handle it myself.

Left unwritten was “as usual.” For all I knew, it was Jude’s plan all along to get out of doing any work while looking like a hero in the process. I’d probably end up choosing the venue solo, but it was better than the alternative.

His response came thirty seconds later, and I braced myself for his obnoxious retort, probably something about my no longer practicing the law.

Combining our skills works for me.

“Ugh!” Trying to maintain the peace with Jude was pointless. He was impossible! When I was agreeable, he was contrary, but when I struck first, he was as amenable as a server at a luxury resort. Spinning my chair around and around, I counted all the reasons I hated him. I stopped at ten, but only because I was dizzy, and my brain could no longer focus.

Chapter Three

Two days later, I was on my tri-weekly phone call with my mom. We used to talk twice a week until Papi died and I unofficially changed it to three. Today’s catch-up also served as a convenient break from mentally preparing myself for my first restaurant viewing with Jude. As always, Mom asked what I had planned for the night.

“I’m meeting…um…someone for an…um…drink.” I rolled my eyes to my kitchen ceiling and put the phone on speaker. Then I tugged aggressively on a lock of my hair. The party’s “leadership committee” (Nicole and Eddie) hadn’t decided yet if we should tell our parents what we were planning or leave it as a surprise. This meant I couldn’t tell her the truth, but I hated to lie to her. Jude was technicallysomeone, and I predicted I’d need at least one alcoholic beverage to get through the evening.

“Is it a date?” Despite my being her only single child, her tone was less hopeful and more matter-of-fact. Mom knew and accepted I wasn’t in a rush to settle down. I had no desire to jump from one casual relationship to another indefinitely, but until I found someone who not onlyacceptedmy Molly-isms butadoredthem and the other way around, I was in no hurry to forsake others until death did us part. I didn’t bother to tell her about the men I dated casually, like the new baseball guy, Stan. “More like a business meeting.” My hands now free, I emptied the dishwasher.

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