Page 55 of The Flirtation
Chapter 19
Avery
It had been exactlyone month since I’d last seen Luke. We did not go back to working or flirting together like we had before the Bahamas. We had not Skyped or spoken on the phone, we had only emailed. Since Bucket’s merger had passed the six-month mark, there was no longer anything urgent for Luke and I to communicate about, and it was too soon for me to officially start looking for a new transatlantic business opportunity for Bucket. His big wedding ceremony was coming up in May, and between now and then he was doing a lot of surfing stuff in Australia. I had received a fancy invitation to Ingrid and his London nuptials, but I hadn’t RSVP’dyet.
I had done a pretty fair job of throwing myself back into work after Luke had left, and only every so often I’d realize that I had been studying the neighborhood surrounding Luke’s office building on Google Earth, wondering where he had lunch, who he ate dinner with, who he went home with. It was creepy and stalkerish and I couldn’t stop even though it made me anxious and sad and so very mad at myself. I had driven away happiness, and now I was punishingmyself.
I ran around the Central Park reservoir—twice, just to torture myself. Every step of the way, remembering the sound and feeling of him running along beside me, me trying to keep up with him, him slowing down to match my speed. The casual, unspoken intimacy of it. How we were both icy cold and blowing on each other’s fingers. Now I was cold and alone, with nothing but my own voice in myhead.
I cried—sobbed, for the first time in many years. I cried for my Dad leaving, my Mom dying, the time I wasted not being honest with Luke, the terrible short uneven bangs I got in high school that took an entire year to grow out properly. I cried forCharlotte’s Web, the chocolate peanut butter ice cream I’d eaten all of in one sitting, the empty jars of marmalade in the cupboard that I would never throw out, the way I’d pushed Luke away when he was clearly so willing to be close to me. I cried because I tried to get back together with Mr. Potter, but he seemed so angry and impatient and impersonalnow.
I remembered what the massage therapist at Chandra had said. I tried to breathe into the pain. But then I pictured myself breathing into my heart, and I started laughing, but then I started crying again because laughter and happiness reminded me of Luke. Yeah. I was a freakingmess.
Fortunately, my wonderful assistant Natalie was always there to cheer me up at the office and keep me on track. Until she wasn’t. She walked in, one morning, and placed a piece of paper on my desk, along with a bottle of green juice. She was convinced that I just needed more liveenzymes.
“What’s this?” I said, opening the bottle of green juice, and not looking at the piece ofpaper.
“My two weeks notice,” she said, a slight quiver in hervoice.
I put the bottle down. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry. I will help you hire someone amazing to replace me and I will train her—I actually already have three resumes to showyou.”
“Are you going toMcKinsey?”
“No,” she said, giggling. “I’m moving toLondon.”
“London,England?”
“That’s theone!”
I sat back in my chair, gripping the bottom of the seat. “You got a job inLondon?”
“Not yet. Iwill.”
“So why are you moving toLondon?”
“To be with William!” She practically sang thewords.
“Oh. Who’sWilliam?”
“Luke’sassistant.”
Whuck?Oh!...Oh?”
“We’re inlove!”
“Ohhh…That’s great! When did you meethim?”
“When you started working with Luke, of course. On the phone, and then we were emailing and then texting and FaceTiming andSnapchatting.”
“But have you met him inperson?”
“Not yet. But we’ve FaceTimed a lot. I mean…A lot. And I’ve always wanted to live in London, so whynot?”
Why not?“Um. Did you ask if he’s willing to comehere?”
“He offered, but I’m an anglophile. It just makes more sense for me to gothere.”
