AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I offer my arm to her and she slips her hand into mine.
“Lead the way,” she says, all traces of concern left behind in the empty marble hall.
* * *
The Last Quarter is the best restaurant in Chicago. Boasting gorgeous fiftieth story views of Lake Michigan and Navy Pier coupled with a rack of lamb worth naming your firstborn after and there’s just about no other place I’d rather eat in the city. It’s the perfect spot to celebrate my near-brush with financial ruin.
Of course I could be eating at a food truck and I’d be just as happy as long as I was doing it with Liz.
“To you,” I say, raising my wine glass. We’re seated in a private dining room that I’d reserved. Downy flakes glistening with city light bounce off the tall glass windows, making us feel as if we are dining in a snow globe.
“I went into this weekend with no hope. I had zero faith in you, and I was personally ready to throw in the towel without even trying,” I continue. “Thank you, Liz. For your awe-inspiring ability. And for giving me hope. I haven’t been this excited about the future in a long time.”
Liz clinks glasses with me and sips the wine thoughtfully. “This beats the stuff I normally get out of a bag with a backdrop of The Bachelor,” she says.
I chuckle. Some women would try to play mysterious or experienced in the finer things. Fortunately, Liz seems to be incapable of being anything other than honest. It’s something I’ve been missing throughout my life.
She confirms this by tempering my excitement a bit. “We still have one last push though.”
“True,” I say. “What do you think the island will be like?”
“Hopefully hot,” she jokes. “I want it to be a hundred degrees and balmy every day.”
“Me too,” I say, suppressing a shiver at the memory of that goddamn polar plunge. “Seeing as I only brought suits, we might have to make a clothing run.”
“Ah that’s right,” Liz says, smacking her forehead with her palm. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
I frown. “I don’t see the problem.”
“Ha. Ha,” she intones. “Something tells me Marie may back out of our deal if she catches us skinny-dipping in her pool.”
“All right, best of behavior for a few more days,” I say. “But no promises once we get back to New York.”
We grin at each other, each mentally playing scenes of what comes to mind when thinking of bad behavior.
But then Liz’s expression slips into thoughtful consideration. “What is going to happen once we’re back in New York?” she asks.
I shrug, sip my wine, try not to sound too eager. “I suppose the first step would be to report all this to Janice in HR. Can’t be breaking any of the rules just because I own the place.”
Liz laughs lightly, but then she asks something I didn’t anticipate. “Are you sure you want to go back to working at the bank?”
I pause. “Sure. I mean, why not?”
She shrugs. “Just wondering. I mean, you were never happy there.”
I idly spin the stem of my wine glass, eyes following the snow as it drops down on Chicago, formulating the conflicting, exciting thoughts that have spun about my mind lately.
“I didn’t have much of a choice before,” I say at last. “Mother wanted to keep me in line, keep an eye on me. I fought it every step of the way, dreaming about a different life. One where my dad was still alive, or at least one where I could honor his legacy.
“My mother stole that dream from me, and I don’t think I’ll ever fully forgive her for that. But it’s time to stop living in the past, dwelling on the ‘could have beens’.”
I fix my eyes back on her. “I’ll be honest, Liz. I never had much of a reason to enjoy the bank. I hated everyone who worked there, saw them all as soulless worker drones of my mother’s. Puppets she controlled. But now? Well now, I have evidence to the contrary, and if you can somehow be an individual at the bank, then I definitely can. Especially once I’m in charge and can decide exactly what direction I want it to go in.”
I can tell she wants to cut in, but I speak more quickly, getting out everything I want to say once and for all: “I know we’re moving a little fast, but I really like you, Liz. I want to see what kind of future we have together. Because for once I’m excited about the future. The years don’t mean just getting older now, every one a disappointment, a waste. I want to make the most of them. With you.”
Liz bites her lip. “Me too,” she says. “But you don’t have to do that at the bank.”
I blink. Where is this coming from? I try to smile. “I’ve been fighting it for too long. It’s in my blood, I guess. What’s the hesitation? Don’t want to work together?”
