Page 14 of The Second Chance Year

I may be learning to let things go, but I can’t simply “la, la, la” my way through this conversation. “Please don’t call her that. She has a name, and you’ve hung out with her enough times to know what it is.” I pause, taking in his slicked-back hair and smirk. “Actually, never mind. Forget her name and forget she exists. Because you know what they say about not even if you were the last man on Earth—”

“Well,” Alex cuts in, his voice a little too loud and overly cheerful. “It sounds like Kasumi probably isn’t interested, solet’s talk about something else. What are you baking at work these days, Sadie?”

I spin my chair away from Zach and focus on Alex. “I have a new recipe for lavender lemon tarts. And actually”—I pull a small pastry box from my bag with a smile—“you can let me know what you think.”

Alex used to joke that our love story began over dessert. I met him on the subway when he was just starting out in the MBA program at Columbia, and I’d been at Xavier’s for about a year. Xavier had sent me on an errand to deliver a cake I’d made for one of his VIP friends at a downtown office building. I was standing on the crowded subway, balancing the giant pastry box, and trying desperately not to pitch sideways into the lap of the old woman to my left. Alex was in the next row and spotted me swaying. He lunged to his feet, grabbed the box just as it began to tip, and offered me his seat. When I got off the train, Alex did too, carrying the pastry box for eight blocks until it was safely deposited at the VIP’s office. I didn’t learn until our second date that Alex had been going uptown, and that hadn’t even been his stop.

In the early days, I showed my affection by dropping off treats when Alex was busy studying for finals or working on a big project. He’d text me selfies in return, photos of him biting into my desserts with silly notes like,I love you berry much. Or,You’re the icing on my cupcake, I’m muffin without you.

“Where’s mine?” Zach asks.

I give him an exaggerated shrug. “Sorry, I only brought one.”

“It’s cool,” Zach says. “Bring me one next time.”

I bite my tongue.

“Hey, Zach,” Alex cuts in, probably to steer the conversation to safer topics again. “How’s it going with the candidates for the financial consultant position? What do you think of that woman you interviewed yesterday?”

And then, I realize what’s coming next. I sat in this same bar on this same day during my Very Bad Year, and I had a version of this conversation before. And it did not go well. Because if memory serves, then Zach is about to reply with…

“Eh. I don’t know, man. She’s smart, I’ll give her that. Really qualified. But, based on her graduation date, I’d guess she’s about thirty-two, thirty-three, maybe. No wedding ring, but when she clicked on her phone to look at her calendar, I could see from her lock screen that she has a boyfriend.”

“So?” I ask, just like last time. “What does that have to do with her ability to do her job?”

And even though I know what to expect, I’m hoping that somehow the universe has shifted, and Zach isn’t about to say what I think he’s going to say.

Spoiler alert: Heisabout to say what I think he’s going to say.

“Well, no offense,” Zach says on cue. “But what’s the point in hiring her if she’s just going to get married, and then pregnant, and then quit to be a stay-at-home mom?”

It sounds just as terrible now as it did the first time. Maybe even worse. And I can remember that first time so clearly. For a moment, I was too stunned to say anything. And then I hopped off my barstool, got in his face, and yelled, “Are you kidding me? That’s so fucking stupid.”

Last time, Zach’s eyes grew wide as he backed away from me like I was a zoo animal let out of my cage. Conversationsaround us trailed off, and someone muttered, “Whoa,” as the other guys from Alex’s firm looked over at us. And then Alex took me by the arm and murmured, “Sadie…”

“What?” I demanded louder. “You don’t agree with that bullshit, do you?”

“No, of course not.” Alex shot Zach a hard look. “Dude, tone it down, okay?” he murmured.

“Tone it down?” I looked back and forth between Alex and Zach. “How about, dude, don’t have shitty, sexist attitudes about women in the first place? Ones that are probablyillegal.” My voice rose even higher, and I was attracting the attention of not just Alex’s colleagues, but strangers across the bar, too.

I can still picture Zach turning bright red and then sort of purple. His gaze swept across the groups of people looking on. “It was ajoke,” he huffed.

I leveled a stare at him. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Okay,” Alex cut in. “Zach and I can talk about this at the office tomorrow. Sadie, why don’t we head out?” And that was when I noticed his clenched jaw and jerky movements as he pulled on his coat. He didn’t look up as we walked past the other guys from his office, but I saw him flinch when a couple of them snickered.

I’ll never forget the fight we had out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t what I’d said, Alex insisted. Of course he agreed with me that Zach was an ass with antiquated attitudes about women. Of course he was going to discuss it with Zach tomorrow. “But Sadie, I wish you’d talked to me instead of making a scene in front of the entire bar.” If the story got around to Dave, his boss—and I could bet it would get around to Dave—did I have any idea what this could do to his career?

“But if Dave doesn’t agree with me,” I argued, “he’s as bad as Zach.”

“Dave can agree with you andstillnot want his employees to make a public scene while half of Wall Street is watching. The whole firm’s reputation is at stake.”

A tiny part of me understood what he was saying. But the bigger part dug her heels in. “Youdidn’t make a scene.Idid.”

I remember Alex shaking his head, shoulders drooping. “What you do reflects on me. It affects my career.”

He hailed me a cab instead of suggesting we go back to his place. When I called him the next morning, Alex assured me things were fine, but his voice remained cold. Eventually, we moved past it, and everything seemed to go back to normal. But now I know that he never completely got over it, and I would only dig myself even deeper the next time we hung out with his work friends.

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