I thought he was an asshole then. Now, I think he might have been onto something. Perhaps the desire to risk, the need for adrenaline is buried in all of us, deep in our DNA, waiting to resurface, fighting to do so. Some of us don’t want to fight it at all, like Kate.
Some of us are particularly good at fighting it-like me. But where does that get us? If too much adrenaline leads to recklessness and abandon, where does its absence lead? An outbreak, like Michael’s? A half-life, like mine?
I don’t hate adrenaline; I just fear it. But part of me also relishes it. I felt that when I jumped from the plane. Tha
t small act of stepping into nothingness made me feel something I could get addicted to. That’s why I fear it.
But what else is left? How long can I watch others take risks while I’m trapped in a prison of my own making, a paralyzing fear that forbids me to take that one extra step, to live life to its fullest. Perhaps that’s why I always find myself somehow surrounded with people like Jess and James. They make me feel alive. Being with James is the most alive I’ve ever felt. Yet I’m so willing to let him go. All because I never allowed myself to learn the art of risking.
Perhaps if I had ever dared to take risks, any kind of risks, I wouldn’t now prefer the certainty of losing him over the risk of him never growing to love me.
I don’t find anyone from the group when I get out of the elevator. The reception area is empty except for the girl standing behind the desk itself. It’s the same girl who mistook me for an interview candidate when I was here weeks ago. She’s clutching an enormous cup of coffee in her hands, and she’s watching me nervously.
“A rather large group was here five minutes ago,” I say. “Do you know where they are?”
“They all went to Wellstone’s. Do you want me to call you a cab, Miss?”
I smile. “That’d be lovely.”
Twenty minutes later I get out of the cab in front of Wellstone’s, only to find everyone camped in front of the entrance, in various stages of exasperation. Most sit on the sidewalk with their legs crossed, and some lean on the wall of the building or on the glass doors of the entrance.
“They open in half an hour,” someone informs me.
“Great.”
I find Ralph siting on the sidewalk a little farther from everyone else, smoking and smirking. Since he’s the only one I know from the group, I go to him.
“Why the heck didn’t you wait for me?” I ask him, and sit next to him at a safe distance so his smell doesn’t invade my nostrils again.
“Darling, I thought you and James would be busy for the next hour at least. I assumed that was a perfect moment for some make-up sex.”
“You assume too much,” I say flatly.
Ralph shrugs.
I rub my arms with my palms as the morning breeze chills me. I wish I had a steamy coffee between my hands right now. I could use it to get warm and to whip the tiredness from my body and mind. I hadn’t felt it before, but sitting here on the concrete, I feel like I might doze off any second now.
Ralph finishes off his cigarette and almost immediately lights up a new one. “I wouldn’t push this too far, if I were you.”
I choke on the cloud of smoke he breathes in my direction. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean, stop playing the unattainable. If a chick treated me the way you treat James, I wouldn’t bother with her ever again,” he says, taking another smoke, clearly annoyed.
But he can’t be as annoyed as I am. “The way I treat him?” I emphasize every syllable, crossing my arms. “Please, by all means, explain to me how I’m treating him badly.”
“You know what I’m talking about. Ultimatums are never fair play, Serena.”
My stomach turns to ice at the word ultimatum. I flex my palms and rest them on the concrete. Surely James didn’t tell him about our conversation? Or anyone, really. That moment was private and painful, and something both of us want to erase from our memories. At least I know I do.
“Especially when it involves getting rid of one of their oldest friends,” Ralph continues, his gaze as cold and accusing as his tone. The cigarette between his fingers is almost finished-he wasn’t kidding about his smoking speed. “When a guy ditches such a friend for your sake, it means he’s in it deep.”
And now I finally do get what he’s talking about. He’s talking about Natalie.
“Maybe he realized that particular friendship was harmful for him,” I snap.
Ralph snorts. “Funny thing to realize, after being friends for fifteen years.”
“I didn’t tell James to force Natalie out of his company, Ralph.”
“But he did it.” He lifts himself from the concrete just as the doors of Wellstone’s open. “That should count for something.” He turns around and walks into Wellstone’s without another glance at me.
I wait for everyone to get inside, a taste of bile in my mouth. Of course Ralph would resent me for what happened between Natalie and James. I remember Ralph and Natalie discussing the trip to Malaysia, in a very friendly half-embrace. True, Ralph seems to have a habit of touching everything that has female parts, but he and Natalie have known each other for so long, they must be friends. I push myself up and rise from the concrete. A cab passes in front of me and I’m tempted to signal it to stop and get the hell away from here. I don’t need all this talk about Natalie and what James’s behavior toward her means, now that I’ve made my decision to move to New York. I don’t need more reasons to doubt myself.
But James’s Porsche pulls in front of me before I have time to search for another cab. I suck in my breath when he gets out of the car. How is it that each time I see him I’m surprised by how handsome he is? By his well-contoured cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. And those lips. A shiver wracks me as I remember all the places on my body his lips have kissed. His eyes lighten up when he notices me, and I realize he wasn’t really expecting me to show up.
“That went fast,” I say as he and Parker stride toward me. My voice is astonishingly even. “Did something go wrong?”
“No,” James answers. “It went better than expected, actually. I think they might-”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Parker comments, but he’s grinning.
It’s such a relief to see Parker grin in my presence. Then I remember his grin has nothing do with me; he’s still mad at me. I need to remedy that right away. I won’t have the chance again. I’ll go to New York, and when I come back to pack for my move, who knows if I’ll see Parker?
“Parker, can I have a word with you?” I ask, just when James opens the glass door to Wellstone’s.
Parker doesn’t look surprised. “Sure.”
James doesn’t look surprised either. He looks amused, if anything. “I’ll see you both inside.”
He closes the door, and I’m left alone with Parker, whose eyes bore into mine with such intensity I have to look away. His eyes are a tad too much like James’s for me not to feel things I shouldn’t at the sight of them.
“I am really sorry about lying to you when we went to the event,” I say, staring at the pavement as if I’m talking to it.
“I must admit I wasn’t expecting that from you, Serena.”
If I could have a superpower, I’d choose one that would allow me to drill a hole in the concrete solely by staring at it. Or be invisible. Either would work just fine now.
“I just… I did it on a whim,” I mumble, “and then didn’t know how to get out of the whole thing.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”
“I was ashamed, I guess.”
“Well, don’t be next time. I like to think we’re friends.” I snap my head up because his tone takes me by surprise. It’s no longer reprimanding. It’s playful. The ear-to-ear grin matches it perfectly. Right now, he looks more like James than ever.
“We are,” I say.
“Come on, let’s grab something to eat. I’m famished.”
My stomach protests in a loud grumble at the word famished. “So am I, it seems.” I chuckle.
Parker opens the glass door and I step inside. It immediately becomes apparent that our group occupies the entire place. The place is posh, all right. I haven’t been here before, but I saw it in one of Jess’s magazines. It looks as sleek as it did in the photographs-the white marble floor, simple wooden tables, and violet-cushioned chairs give the place a very royal air. The only difference from the photographs is that the small tables aren’t scattered around, but arranged in four long tables, two at the front and two at the back. It’s a tad too chilly, thanks to the air conditioning. But it smells heavenly. Of coffee, sugar, and cinnamon. There is a glass of untouched champagne in front of everyone. I look for empty chairs and find a few at the second table on the right. I quickly locate Ralph a few seats away, with Ana next to him, who couldn’t look unhappie
r. I decide to search for a chair at another table. With a jolt in my heart, I spot two empty seats elsewhere: one next to James, one in front of him. Parker elbows me, nodding in James’s direction.
Parker starts toward the seat opposite James, but I whisk in front of him, walking to that seat with a determined strides. Parker shakes his head slightly then proceeds to sit next to James. I couldn’t bear sitting next to James the entire time. But sitting in front of him isn’t much better. He fixes me with his gaze the second I slump in my seat. I pretend not to notice, smiling at my neighbors as I introduce myself to them-Nadine, to my left and Tom, to my right. But I can feel James’s gaze on me, and I wonder if he’s going to keep this game going the entire time we’re here. My cheeks are burning already. I don’t want my whole body to be ablaze by the time we leave this place.
“So you were waiting for us to toast?” Parker says, raising the glass of champagne in front of him.
“Exactly,” James answers, not taking his eyes off me. I raise my glass too. Relief floods me when James rises from his seat. “Everyone, thank you a lot for all your effort last night. It was really more than I could ask of anyone. Special thanks goes to our hero, David,” he points his glass to the table at the back where Ralph sits. The black-haired guy with glasses who found the bug is there too, blushing furiously as everyone starts to applaud.
“I need to order something to eat, like, right now,” Parker says, and snatches one leather-bound menu from the heaps of menus at the center of the table. I follow suit, and in the next half an hour or so everyone is busy ordering and then devouring their order. I finish my chocolate pancakes in record time then drink an elephant-sized cup of coffee.
I skillfully avoid even glancing in James’s direction this entire time, and thankfully, once he starts talking to other people, his gaze drifts from me. I listen to Nadine’s story of her job search, which sounds a lot like mine, the only difference being that she’s looking for a job as a programmer. Lots of applications, dismal performances in interviews; it’s nice to know I’m not the only one with a chronic inability to bullshit my way through interviews. I tell her she will find a job eventually, that if it all worked out for me, then for sure it will work out for her. Parker overhears us and tells her they are looking for interns, and her helping them out last night more than qualifies her for the internship. Nadine’s eyes lighten up so brightly I think she might kiss Parker out of sheer joy and relief.
“So, Serena,” Parker says to me, “I never got to congratulate you on your job offer in San Francisco.”
I blush. Parker would know all about the nightmare that has been my job search. I drove him crazy all those days he wandered around with me after Jess got out of the hospital and we found out the mess she was in.
“What happened with your interview in New York?” he asks. “Did you hear back?”
I bite my lip. I didn’t want to say anything about New York, but now that he brought it up I can’t downright lie to him. I peek at James, who’s discussing something with my other neighbor, Tom, and gesticulating energetically. But I know he’s paying attention to what Parker and I are saying. “I’ve actually gotten a job offer in New York.” Since I’m going down the path of truth, I might as well spit everything out. “I’m flying there tonight, and will look at apartments tomorrow.”
James’s arms freeze in the air for a second, and he breaks off mid-sentence. Then he starts talking to Tom again, as if nothing happened.
Parker looks crestfallen, his mouth hanging slightly open. “So you accepted the job offer?” I can understand his confusion, since I always claimed I applied everywhere to keep my options open, but that I really want to stay in San Francisco.
“Yes.”
James drops all pretense of not eavesdropping on our conversation. “I thought you wanted to work in San Francisco.” His voice drips with accusation.
“I did.”
“So why the sudden change now?” James asks.
“Nothing beats having a Wall Street bank on my CV,” I say weakly.
Not that it’s not true. I knew that all along when I sent applications, but I also knew that Wall Street banks were so competitive, I never thought I’d get in. Still, I know that that’s not the only reason I accepted the job. And I think James knows it too.
“You are right, Parker,” James says in a glacial tone that rips through me. “Congratulations are in order. Should we order another glass of champagne?”
“That won’t be necessary,” I say quickly.
His eyes don’t match the cold tone. Something else lingers behind the blue in them. Something worse. Hurt. So deep and so intense that it smolders its way into me, enveloping me in a veil woven of guilt and regret.
“I propose that we finish off our breakfast and then go get some sleep,” Parker jumps in, looking wearily from James to me. “I already told everyone from the office they can take the day off.”
James scoffs, then his lips curl into a grin as he turns to Parker, breaking off eye contact. I let out a breath of relief; I hadn’t even realized I was holding in my breath. I lower my gaze to my empty plate, tracing the contour where my pancake was with my fork.
“And I already told them that sleep is overvalued,” James says. “I organized an outdoor day for the entire team and everyone else who helped.”
“Oh,” Parker says in surprise. “But everyone is so tired.”
On my left and right, both Nadine and David sit up straight. I have a hunch they, too, think that sleep is overrated.