Isaacâs standing by my door. The navy suit looks casual on him tonight, unbuttoned and no tie. Itâs made more domestic by the cat streaking against his leg.
âIs he always this friendly?â he asks.
I glance over from my spot in front of the mirror. I have an earring in hand, the other already fastened on my left lobe. âI wouldnât really know,â I say, âsince I donât have guests over a lot. Maybe he was just shy the last time you came over?â
Isaac runs a large hand over Miloâs back. I hear him murmur words, his voice deep and soft, but theyâre too quiet for me to make out. Meant for Miloâs soft ears and no one elseâs.
I watch them for longer than I need to. That cat might not know it, obsessed as he is with long naps on the couch and watching birds from the windowsill, but he had saved my life the past year.
âAll right,â I finally say. âIâm ready.â
Isaac straightens and receives a disgruntled meow from Milo in return, who dramatically flops down by his feet. âYou look stunning,â he says.
âThank you,â I say. I feel nervous around him again. The formality of this date, the restaurant reservation⦠weâre not going as pretend dates. This isnât an act, or a twisted sort of revenge, or a facade.
This is just us.
One final time before we potentially go into business together. One final time before tomorrowâs pitch.
Isaac has a car waiting for us at the door of my building. It takes us uptown, back into familiar territory. Past the marble pristineness of the Winter Hotel and onto streets I recognize well.
Heâs reserved a table for us at Salt.
Iâve been there before. It has expensive food by a Michelin Star chef, but itâs approachable enough for lunch or a date. Iâve been with friends, and once with my family when they were in town. And Iâve been there with Percy.
Often.
The car pulls to a stop outside. âIs this okay?â he asks. Maybe heâs noted my silence.
âYes, yes, absolutely.â
âThey have a great white wine selection for you,â he murmurs. âSeveral Chardonnay options.â
Salt is packed. It always is, even though this is a weekday evening. The nerves in my stomach increase to a fever pitch as we follow a waitress past fully seated tables. Iâm pitching tomorrow. Itâs the biggest day of my career so far, and then, itâll mean an end to this. To him and I.
Isaac lets me pore over the white wine list in silence without as much as a sigh, so unlike Percy, and then we order our drinks.
He knots his hands on the table. âSophia,â he says. âWhat are you thinking about?â
I sigh. âSorry. Iâm thinking about tomorrow.â
âAh. The pitch.â
âYes. Jenna, Toby, and I ran through it today, but Iâll be honest, Iâm still a bit nervous about it.â
He runs a hand along his jaw. âBecause your client is such an asshole.â
âYes, exactly. He also happens to be really good friends with my bossâs boss.â
âI wouldnât exactly say theyâre good friends,â Isaac says. âI mean, not as far as Iâve heard.â
I chuckle. âThatâs a relief.â
âStill, though, I know youâve worked incredibly hard on this pitch. Regardless of what my team or I will think about your suggestions for the hotel franchise, nothing can take that away from you.â
âNo, thatâs true. But it can make it all a waste of time.â
He raises an eyebrow. âA waste of time?â
âWell, not all of it, but you know what I mean.â
âI do,â he says. Then he frowns, those dark eyes intense on mine. âIs it because you know Iâll be honest?â
âMaybe thatâs part of it,â I say. âBut I appreciate that. I know youâll be fair, too, and I wouldnât want you to lie to protect my feelings.â
He nods. âI didnât think you would.â
âBut I know itâs not just me, either. Jenna and Toby have worked really hard on this. All of us want to blow you and your team away tomorrow.â
âOf course, you do.â
âAll projects are important to me, and I love my job. But Iâd be lying if I didnât say this one feels even more so because itâs you, and itâs your company.â
âSophia,â he says, and thereâs a faint smile to his lips. âYouâve already impressed me.â
âYes, but thatâs on a personal level.â
He shakes his head. âNo, not only. I was impressed by your work ethic before⦠this happened. Before we happened.â
That makes me smile. âThanks. You know, when I realized you were the same man Iâd met in the hotel lobby that night, it made me want to prove myself.â
âYou did, not that you had to.â
âBut Iâve always had that drive,â I say.
âI know,â he says, and I know he does because Iâve seen the same thing in him. I might be an outsider, a foreigner in New York, and I was a novice in my husbandâs world. I needed to prove myself. Isaac Winter, on the other hand? He had been born the heir to an empire and probably had a monogrammed pacifier. And yet⦠it hadnât made him entitled.
âItâs always been the same for me,â he murmurs. Proving that he deserves it all. Proving that heâs up to the task.
I reach out across the table, my palm up. He doesnât hesitate in taking it. âHow do you think working together will be,â I ask, âafter this?â
âI donât know,â he says. âIâm not looking forward to it.â
The straightforward admission makes my chest tighten. Me neither. I donât want to lose the easy confidences and conversations.
âNot being able to pick your mind will be hard.â
His leans forward. âThis doesnât have to be an all-or-nothing situation. If you want to talk after tomorrow, Iâll always be available.â
âI donât think I could resist even if you werenât.â
âGood,â he says. âSweetheart, Iâve been thinking. Thereâs another optââ
A shadow falls over our table, and Isaacâs words come to an abrupt stop. Percy and Scarlett are standing next to us.
In Isaacâs grip, my hand goes limp.
âHello, you two,â Percy says. âSorry to interrupt like this, butââ
âWe never got to say a proper goodbye at the tennis tournament!â Scarlettâs smile is wide enough to show off her molars. Itâs a complete one-eighty from when Iâd seen her across the room at the benefit a few weeks ago. âThanks for a great game. You looked like such a great team.â
My stomach sinks. Isaac. Thatâs what this is about. Sheâs from this world, her parents are friends with the Brownes, and she went to college with Percyâs friend group.
And Iâm now, in her view, seriously dating Isaac Winter. Thatâs a brilliant social connection to have, neatly connected through two ex-spouses.
âThank you,â Isaac says. His voice is steady, but thereâs a hint of hostility beneath the cool surface. âAre you here for dinner?â
âYes, weâre just heading to our table now, but we had to stop and say hello.â Percyâs eyes shift to mine. Thereâs an emotion in them I canât read.
That surprises me. I used to be able to so easily.
Now I just want them to leave. My last night with Isaac, and here they are? Why had we gone to Salt in the first place? The entirety of New York City is available to us. We could be at a diner in Brooklyn or at my little ramen place, having the time of our lives.
âSoph?â Percy says.
I clear my throat. âTonightâs tasting menu looks stellar,â I say. âEspecially the chicken.â
âYes, I think thatâs what Iâll have,â Scarlett says. Her strawberry-blonde hair is soft around her face, and I suddenly see it spread out on a pillow like it had been when I walked in to see her beneath him. âWe actually have some fun news to share, donât we, Perce?â
Percy looks at me with his sheepish smile. Itâs the one Iâd used to find endearing. Now it looks like an act, an attempt at playing Peter Pan. Heâs the boy who never wanted to grow up.
âWeâre having a baby,â he says.
My mind goes blank. The sound of the restaurant fades away, turns into white noise. Isaacâs hand tightens around mine, and I feel it from somewhere far away.
âCongratulations,â someone says. Him. He says it.
Percyâs watching my reaction. And he sees it when the blow lands. The final insult, the perfectly crafted blade. He knows exactly where itâll slide in between my ribs.
Heâd wanted kids. I did too, but not yet. Not while my career was doing so well. Heâd never been okay with that, and my mother-in-law had commented on it all the time, making it clear I was the one in the wrong.
Failure, I think. This is just one more arena I failed in, and they never let me forget it.
âSophia?â Scarlett asks. Thereâs a note of sympathy in her voice, but I canât tell if itâs real or fake. âIâm sorry if thatâs hard to hear. Weâre really happy for you two, you know, both of us. And we hope that going forward thereâs a way forââ
âSorry, will you excuse me?â I say, getting up from my seat.
âOf course,â Isaac says. He starts to stand as well, and maybe we could leave, maybe thereâs a better way out of this, but I canât see it. I turn on my heel and flee both the past and the present, heading toward the safety of the restroom. I barely make it before the first tear falls.