The Second Chance Year

“How was your day?” Alex asks as we sip our drinks.

I lean back against the leather banquette, finally feeling my shoulders relax, and glad to be off my feet. “Just more of the same from Xavier. He wanted me to stay and wait on that creepy guy I told you about. The only thing that got me out of it was name-dropping your company and hinting that we might bring your boss there someday.”

“You won’t be working for Xavier forever, Sadie.” Alex takes my hand. “And I know you’re going to be great at whatever you do next.”

I give his hand a squeeze in return, and when I excuse myself to run to the bathroom a few minutes later, I stop in the hallway to send him a punny text. You bake my life a butter place. Just like old times.

I return to the bar just as Alex’s boss and his wife walk in. Dave and Melinda are a middle-aged couple, attractive in that way people are when they have plenty of money for personal trainers and hair stylists and bespoke suits. Though Dave and Alex greet each other with a handshake, Dave gives Alex an extra pat on the back, and Alex’s face lights up. There’s a warmth to their exchange that hints at a personal relationship, and I’m reminded that Alex didn’t always plan to be an investment banker.

Ever since the third grade when he was asked to write an essay about what he wanted to be when he grew up, Alex expected to become a financial adviser and work in his dad’s company back in Wisconsin. Charlie Martin was the kind of guy who coached his kids’ soccer games, took them camping in the summer, and went out of his way to make it home each night by six so he could have dinner with his family. Alex adored him. When Charlie died unexpectedly at the age of fifty-eight, and Alex’s mom sold the company, Alex’s whole life changed in an instant.

I know how important this meeting is for Alex. So, I turn to Dave and Melinda and give them my most charming smile. We head for the table, and I take careful steps, determined not to trip over my shoes or fall in any other laps.

Dave pulls my chair out for me, and once we settle into our seats, he orders a bottle of red for the table. “So, Sadie,” he says, leaning back in his chair once he’s swirled, tasted, and approved the wine. “Alex tells me you’re a pastry chef.”

I nod. “I’ve worked at Xavier’s for about four years.”

“Oh, how fascinating.” Melinda presses her left hand on Dave’s arm, and her enormous diamond ring twinkles. “Honey, Xavier was the chef who did the menu for Steve’s fiftieth birthday party, remember?” She turns to me. “Dave’s brother. His wife hosted a dinner party for his birthday last August. The food was wonderful.”

“Sadie probably made the pastries for that party.” Alex looks down at me with a proud grin. “She’s basically Xavier’s right-hand woman. You won’t find better desserts at any restaurant in the city.” He stretches an arm behind the back of my chair, and I lean into him. Melinda and Dave exchange a smile as if they’re charmed by our young love. Pleasing Dave means so much to Alex, so for his sake, I’m thrilled this seems to be going well.

We chitchat about Dave and Melinda’s latest vacation, and then Dave and Alex break off to talk about some client or other. Melinda turns to me. “Beautiful bag.” She strokes my Chanel clutch with appreciation.

“Oh, thanks.” I pick it up and then set it back on the table. “It was a gift from Alex.”

She nods with a tinkly little laugh. “Of course. You’ve got to make sure you enjoy the perks of the job, after all.”

I’m not sure what to say to that since it’s not like I was expecting lavish gifts just because Alex works in finance. But maybe after you’ve been married to an investment banker for a couple of decades, you grow accustomed to designer fashion. Under the table, I wiggle my toes in my high heels, counting the minutes until I can get my feet out of them. But, who knows? Maybe someday, I’ll run a mile in these shoes.

“Well, the perks of my job aren’t quite as nice as Alex’s,” I say with a laugh. “My shapeless chef’s coat and ugly clogs are examples A and B.”

Melinda looks at her husband and Alex deep in their conversation about a merger. “At a certain point, his job becomes your job too, though, doesn’t it?” It’s not really a question, more of a statement she expects I’ll agree with.

“Um… does it?” I murmur.

“Well, surely you’ve noticed the long hours of an investment banker.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Dave was on a conference call when I went into labor with our first child. He sat in the corner of the hospital room with a laptop and his phone, closing a deal, while I started pushing.”

“Oh wow. That must have been upsetting for you.”

“I was disappointed of course.” Melinda shrugs. “But he did what he had to do.”

Okay. I can’t say I’d be quite so forgiving. But I’m not planning to push out a baby anytime soon, either. “Alex and I are nowhere near having children.”

“I certainly don’t mean to make assumptions about your relationship.” She leans in with a conspiratorial smile. “But from the way Dave says Alex talks about you, his intentions are quite evident.”

I blink. Alex discussed our future at work? I try to imagine him and the other guys sitting around the boardroom at Wright and Moore dissecting their relationships like they’re the four women on an episode of Sex and the City. Except that Dave is solidly on the Mr. Big end of the spectrum, and I’m having trouble picturing Zach using any form of communication that doesn’t involve fist bumps.

“It’s important to understand that the demands on Alex won’t ease once he’s promoted to a vice president at the firm. And those demands will extend to his wife.” Melinda gives me a pointed look. “Women who go into these relationships believing that their career will be of equal importance, that there will be a division of labor at home or in child-rearing…” She shakes her head. “Well, they end up very disappointed.”

I nod slowly, letting that sink in. So, this explains all the relationship talk. I’m being vetted to make sure I won’t freak out if Alex blows off our honeymoon for a merger negotiation or holds a conference call while our baby is crowning. This dinner is the beginning of my induction into the world of Wall Street wives. And my job description seems very clear. Smile, support your husband, and keep your complaints to yourself.

But don’t worry, there will be presents. Lots of presents.





On the Uber ride home, I want to talk to Alex about my conversation with Melinda, but he fields a call from a client that sounds important. My phone buzzes as well, and I open a text from my mother. Hope dinner with Alex’s boss is going well! She follows the message with a long string of heart emojis, which, honestly, is a little strange coming from a woman with a PhD in English literature. We can’t wait to see you soon!

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