The Futures

“That’s not true. I really liked you, Evan.” Her voice wavered. “I just—I kept waiting. You know? I kept waiting for you to make a move or do something or say something. Eventually it seemed like you didn’t want anything like that. And Wyeth was cute, and he asked me out. So I said yes.”

She shrugged. “You seemed pissed afterward. Then you didn’t come around for a long time. But you’re back now, and—I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I don’t know what’s going on in your life or why you’re back, but I want us to be friends again. I’d like that. If you want to.”

I stared down at the bar, blinking, willing the seams to hold together.

“Are you okay?” she asked in a soft voice.

I shook my head. “God, Maria. I’m sorry. I’m a jerk.”

“No, Evan. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I—”

“No. I’m an asshole. I didn’t make a move last year because I had a girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend?”

“I should have said something. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, my God. That makes so much sense. A girlfriend!” She laughed, then stopped. “Wait. Did you say ‘had’?”

“Yeah. We broke up a while ago.”

“Oh.”

“It was complicated. It’s better that it’s over.” Was that true? Was that what I really thought? “It had been dragging itself out for a long time.”

“What happened?”

“Well,” I said. “How much time do you have?”

The next morning, as I passed Roger’s desk, I noticed that he was wearing the same clothes as the day before. Shirt wrinkled, tie stained with oil, smelling and looking like he hadn’t slept in days. It was the first morning in a long time that I had woken without a hangover. I’d picked up breakfast, which I never did, the toasted bagel radiating heat through the white bag. I stopped next to Roger’s desk.

“Want breakfast?” I said, extending the bag toward him. He raised an eyebrow. “They messed up my order,” I lied. “I asked for sesame but they gave me an everything. So they did it over, but they gave me both.”

“Um. Okay. Thanks,” he said warily, taking the bag.

“You’re welcome,” I said. Then, before I lost my nerve: “Do you need any help?”

He tore off a bite of the bagel. “Help?”

“With whatever you’re working on. It looks like you’re slammed.”

He stared for a beat. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. Not joking. I’ve got time to pitch in.”

Then he laughed. “Well, yeah. Duh. They can’t staff you on anything. The investors would freak out.”

My stomach turned at the smell of the warm cream cheese.

“They told us not to talk about any live deals in front of you,” Roger continued. “It’s a liability. You’re going to be gone soon, anyway.”

“A liability?”

Roger’s expression softened. “Look,” he said quietly. “I’m not trying to be a dick. Do you want my advice? Just cash your checks and ride this out. Then you can move on to another firm. Start fresh. Somewhere else, they won’t even care.”

Down the hall, the other employees were arriving for the day. Roger rearranged his face back into its usual smug grin. “Thanks for the bagel, but just get out of here, okay?” he said under his breath. “I shouldn’t be talking to you.”

I went back to McGuigan’s that night, and the next, and the next. I drank Coke, and I watched whatever was on the TV—a Yankees game, Jeopardy!, the local news—killing time, waiting for the bar to quiet down enough for Maria to take a break. She was the only person I had talked to in months. I couldn’t lose her again.

That first night, I told her the whole story: Michael, the bribery, the trip to Las Vegas. The Julia part, too. I figured it was fine. The investigation was nearly finished, and the findings were going to be public soon enough. Maria stared at me, rapt.

“Have you heard from her since you broke up?” she asked at the end.

“Nope.”

“But you haven’t called her, either?”

“There’s nothing to say.” I jabbed at a melting ice cube with my straw. “She checked out a long time ago. I don’t think she was ever going to come back.”

“Why are you still here, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why stay? I mean, you must be miserable at Spire, right? And you always said you weren’t that crazy about New York. You could go somewhere totally different. Don’t you want to start over? Leave it all behind?”

Anna Pitoniak's books