“I shouldn’t have run out on you like that,” he said. “When you needed me most.” He hugged me tighter. “I won’t do that again, I promise.”
I let myself lean into him. There was so much I needed to say, but unlike the inappropriate moment I had chosen to blurt out that I loved him, I recognized now wasn’t the time. “Does this mean you’re willing to give me another chance?” I asked.
He kept holding me, letting his authoritative grasp speak for him. It said: a man of such decency and intelligence would never clutch so tightly to anything without value.
“If you’ll give me another chance,” he said.
I really let loose then with the crying. I couldn’t help it. I was a girl sobbing into her boyfriend’s sleeve on a public street. But only for like a minute, and then I got my shit together.
“I’ll explain the whole story from the beginning,” I said, wiping my face dry. “But please believe me when I tell you, I never intended to do anything so incredibly illegal.”
Kevin exhaled another long smoky breath. “I think I understand why you did what you did,” he said. “Don’t forget, I know what goes on at Titan and what Robert’s like. You think I haven’t had any revenge fantasies of my own?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Well don’t be so sure. I’m not as wholesome as you think.”
“Yes you are, and that’s what I love best about you.” I moved in for a kiss, but he pulled back.
“That is so not what you love best about me.”
“It is.” I placed my hands on both sides of his handsome face. “It just took losing you to make me realize it.”
Then he let me kiss him, kissing me back tenderly enough for my whole body to loosen.
After a moment, he paused and said, “I have something to tell you.”
Immediately my mind went to: He slept with some other girl while we were broken up. Already I was deliberating whether I was going to be okay with it, or if I was only going to pretend to be okay with it. Before I could decide, he said, “I quit my job today.”
“What? You quit Titan?”
He nodded. “I think I’m ready to move into public service. The nonprofit sector. Maybe I can come work for you, if you’re hiring.”
I loved this man, I truly did. And he loved me, all of me, the real me.
There was a December chill in the air, but I felt warm. Look at where I was. Look at who I’d become.
I rested my forehead on Kevin’s. “Funny enough,” I said, “I am looking for an assistant.”
afterword
IT’S BEEN about six months now and people are still talking about the Assistance. The site has more followers than Taylor Swift’s Twitter feed, and we’ve given away nearly three million dollars in donations. Three million dollars of student-loan debt, obliterated. We did that.
Our humble DUMBO office space is small, but it does have hardwood floors and one exposed-brick wall. It’s no Titan building, but it’s ours, and I even have an office with a view. The Realtor referred to it as an “urban view”—it’s basically just a bunch of decrepit buildings and what I’m pretty sure is a water tower, but who needs to stare at the Brooklyn Bridge all day anyway?
Our staff is where we really excel.
Kevin oversees all things legal. He still wears a necktie to work every day, but only because that’s how he’s comfortable. And, yes, we did do it in my office one day after everyone else had gone home and that is totally in accordance with our sexual harassment policy.
Lily manages our accounting. She’s chilled out a bit. Sometimes she even forgoes her Lean Cuisine meals and joins the rest of us for lunch at AlMar or Superfine. Her cardigan with giraffes on it is still in common rotation and that is totally in accordance with our dress code.
Wendi is in charge of digital everything and anything that has to do with a computer. A video of her band’s most recent single, “Kiss Your Stock Options Good-bye, I’m Going to Set You on Fire Now,” has developed a cult following among a newly forming anarchist subset of Assistance members, a fierce and loyal superfan group who call themselves the WendiChanimals. You can recognize them by the two pink horns dyed into their bangs.