The Futures

“Leaving already?” Maria said. She counted out my change, but I waved it away.

“Yeah. A party downtown. I’m already late.” I wondered why I didn’t mention anything about Julia—that I was meeting my girlfriend at the party, that my girlfriend was the one pestering me to get going. I hadn’t yet found a way to work Julia into any of my conversations with Maria. I wasn’t sure I needed to, or wanted to.

“Have fun, Evan,” she said. “See you next week, right?”

I called her name from across the room. Julia was out on the balcony, staring at the Brooklyn skyline with that same vacant look I’d noticed her slipping into on occasion.

There was a pulse of relief across her face when she saw me, and then her expression clouded back into annoyance. Maybe it would have been better to make up some lie about work and skip the party entirely. But she had insisted I come along. “Jake Fletcher is having a party for the opening ceremonies tonight,” she said that morning, calling after me as I was about to leave. “We have to go. Remember? It’s his parents’ foundation I’m working for, after all.”

The television in the corner showed a massive stadium filled with flag-bearing marchers. I squinted and moved closer through the packed living room. I thought of Michael’s abrupt departure a few hours earlier, and it finally made sense.

A ding had sounded from Michael’s BlackBerry as we were talking. He glanced at the screen and stood up sharply. “I have to go,” he said. “I’ve got a flight to catch. I had one of our researchers pull this material together”—he indicated a blue binder on the desk—“and I want you to get up to speed. We’ll convene when I’m back.” He started down the hallway, and I had to jog to keep up. Before Michael stepped into the elevator, I asked where he was going.

He looked up from his phone, brow furrowed. Then he smiled. “China.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s great. For business, or—” but the doors slid closed.

I’d forgotten about the Olympics until then, but the scene on the TV explained it. He and his wife were probably reclined in their first-class seats at that moment, en route to Beijing. I still hadn’t quite absorbed it—Michael, the legendary and fearsome Michael, had just handpicked me for this big new project. At the party, I tried to pull Julia aside to tell her the news. But she kept shaking herself free of my grasp. She knew everybody there: friends from Boston, from prep school, from college. Most of the time she remembered to introduce me—“Oh, do you know my boyfriend, Evan? Evan, this is so-and-so”—and I’d nod and they’d continue talking. Anyway, I suspected that I had served my purpose the moment I’d walked through the door. I’d proved to Julia that I was a loyal boyfriend who would answer her call, and Julia had proved the same thing to her friends. A lot of them worked in finance, like me, but it didn’t give us anything to talk about. Everyone worked in finance.

As the party ended, I climbed into the cab while she was saying good-bye to someone on the sidewalk. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them we were almost home. Julia was at the other side of the backseat, legs crossed, staring out the window. I felt a jolt at that moment. Annoyed with how the night had gone, with this sour distance between us, that stupid party. Things were about to change for the better, beginning right then.

“Leave it off,” I said, when Julia went to turn on the lights in our apartment. I kicked the door closed and pushed her up against the wall. She tasted like sweet white wine, and that made me even harder, knowing that she was drunk. She snaked her fingers through my hair. She was yanking loose my tie, unbuttoning my shirt, unbuckling my belt. I hitched up her dress and we had sex against the living room wall, her legs wrapped around me. “Oh, God, Evan,” she said, her fingertips digging into my scalp, our bodies slamming into the wall. “Oh, my God.”

We collapsed on the bed afterward. We hadn’t had sex like that in a long time. Later, I realized that I never told Julia what happened at work. It was the whole reason I’d been trying to get her attention, but when I finally had it, I’d completely forgotten about it.

Anna Pitoniak's books