There was a long silence. Then, “Oh. My. God.”
Then a weird jaggedy inhale that seemed to be coming from his own throat.
“She was talking about Wexler,” said Danny. “The young one—the gross one. They had a meeting and he, like, made her ask him nicely not to block the sale. Apparently he was a complete jerk, and she hated doing it. She was glad that was over.”
It was Jack’s turn to talk, he knew, but he had started shaking, and he didn’t trust his voice.
“But you?” Danny went on. “She hoped you would sneak into her room that night. She was waiting for you. You, who kept telling her you didn’t do relationships. You and your fucking precious rules. She fell in love with you, asshole.”
…
Cassie stood slumped against the cold red brick building, silently cursing Danny for insisting they meet at this random corner at the south end of the university, rather than, say, a bar where she could drink approximately a liter of scotch.
But thinking about bars made her feel worse, and not just for the obvious reason. In the midst of everything that had happened, she missed Edward’s, the clatter and bustle, the steady, predictable anchor it provided. But, no. She straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and gazed at the sparse parade of pedestrians on campus on Christmas Eve afternoon, dark blots bundled up against the snow, which was beginning to fall in earnest. Quitting Edward’s had been the right thing to do. She’d always told herself she wasn’t a lifer as a bartender, so, she’d asked herself before handing in her resignation last week, what was she waiting for? What had been keeping her there? In the midst of all her crying, she’d been ruthlessly interrogating herself about every aspect of her life, and the honest answer was fear.
If she wasn’t a lifer, she had to stop wasting her life, assuming that it would really start at some fictional future date. She had to give Jack some credit for the revelation. If nothing else, her time with him had made clear what she wanted out of life—a quick end to her degree and a career in business. He’d shown her a wider world she hadn’t known existed and had somehow managed to give her the confidence to stand up to her mother. Laura had shown up two nights ago, on schedule, insisting she was ready to go back to rehab. Cassie had been tempted to reenroll her in the pricey program she’d abandoned mere weeks ago, but instead did some research and helped her mother apply for a government-subsidized program. Then she gave her two hundred dollars and told her not to come back until she’d been clean for six months.
But she did feel bad about quitting so abruptly on Edward. She’d decided to go back to school full time for one final semester and finish all her outstanding credits. She’d live on student loans and credit cards. She now had confidence that she’d be able to get a good job after graduation, so she’d be able to pay back her debt quickly. Still, there was no reason she couldn’t have given Edward two weeks’ notice. It was one thing to make major life decisions, another to be a jerk about it. But in her irrational, wild grief, she’d wanted to make a clean break from everything, to leave her old identity behind and catapult herself into a new, better future. After Christmas, she’d seek Edward out and try to explain to him. Maybe they’d even talk about Cassie’s dad a little.
She glanced at her phone. Two o’clock. Danny was pushing it if he was going to get to the farm before dark. She typed a text.
Will you hurry up already so I can pass inspection, and you can leave? I haven’t cried all day.
It was true, mostly. She’d spent the morning culling her closet. She wanted to get rid of everything she didn’t need, like a snake shedding its old skin.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
She didn’t bother trying to look away as he approached. Even through the snowstorm, Danny would see everything. She lifted her chin. “Well, I haven’t cried since ten this morning. Is that good enough for you? And why are we meeting here?”
He didn’t answer, just wrapped an arm around her shoulder and opened the door they were standing next to, giving her a little shove that discharged her into an unremarkable, institutional hallway. She turned, just in time to hear him shout through the closing door, “Text me if you need me! You know I only need the slightest excuse to abandon the farm!”
What the heck? She looked around, trying to get her bearings. She had probably passed this building a thousand times, but since she’d never had a class in it, she’d never taken note of it.
The door clicked open behind her, and she shrieked a little. But it was just Danny. “Go down the stairs right in front of you! I forgot that part!”