One Good Thing (20 page)

And I waited.

I wondered what was taking him so long. At least three full minutes of shivering with my arms tucked against my chest for extra warmth passed before I considered the possibility that he wasn’t home.

But I couldn’t wrap my mind around that. Evan lying to me was foreign. He was one of the most honest people I knew. Wasn’t he? I remembered his conversation with Christopher and wondered if he wasn’t holding back more than I’d realized.

I rang the doorbell again, my heart sinking when there was still no answer.

Maybe he’d hurt himself and couldn’t answer me. It would be easy for someone to do if they were sick and alone and they tried to move around. I twisted the doorknob but it didn’t budge.

I glanced around, wondering what I should do. Then something caught my eye—fresh tire tracks, crushed into the snow.

I skirted the front of the house, going straight for a small window at the side of the garage. I hugged the Styrofoam soup container to my chest, dusting snow off the panes with my bare hand before peering inside.

His car was gone.

*

“You look great,” Evan said. He stood behind me, watching our reflections in the long mirror that hung in his hallway.

I wore a long black dress that was simple and modest in the front, flowing all the way down to my ankles, but open and sensuous in the back. I’d found the dress at a garage sale and fallen in love with it, even though I didn’t know if I’d ever have the opportunity to wear something so formal.

I’d pinned my hair up, leaving a few tendrils to frame my face, and brushed on tinted lip gloss and mascara. I didn’t wear any jewelry except for a pair of diamond-stud earrings my mom had bought me for my last birthday.

“Thanks,” I said with a forced smile.

Evan looked just as good as always in black slacks and a soft gray shirt with a tie. I wanted to hate him, but I just felt confused and bewildered whenever our eyes met.

If it was a normal day, I would have been happy about the appreciative look he swept over me. As it was, I wanted to get the night over with as quickly as possible. If we hadn’t already agreed to go to the Christmas party together, I would have stayed home.

“Remember, I don’t want people to think we’re dating,” I said coolly. “If anyone asks, we’re friends.”

“Right,” he said, moving away from the mirror. He shrugged into his coat and handed over mine before holding out his arm. “Ma’am?”

I wanted to smile. I couldn’t.

Instead I looked away as I took his arm and we walked out to the car.

*

Lucy caught my attention with a wave as soon as we stepped into the rented ballroom. It was already crowded and warm. Expensive-looking chandeliers hung over the room, reflecting light on the polished wood floor.

There must have been speakers somewhere because instrumental music drifted from the front of the ballroom, lending a sophisticated ambience to the party.

Caterers dressed in black and white roamed the floor holding silver platters of hors d’oeuvres or champagne flutes. It was all very extravagant and ritzy. I wondered if I stuck out like a sore thumb with my garage sale dress.

I grabbed a flute from one of the waiters as I separated from Evan and winded my way through a small throng of people to get to Lucy.

“I love your dress,” she commented before introducing me to her husband. He shook my hand with a friendly smile.

“David just told me that I got the promotion,” she said; she shifted from foot to foot, barely able to contain her excitement. “Don’t tell anyone though. It hasn’t been announced yet.”

I gave her a quick hug, breathing in musky perfume. “That’s great,” I said, drawing back.

“I’ll officially be your boss after the New Year,” she said.

“Well, don’t get too power hungry,” I joked.

She glanced past me and lifted her eyebrows. “I noticed you and Evan arrived together.”

“Just friends,” I said automatically. I’d said those words so much they were starting to sound like a mantra.

“Hmm.”

“What?” I asked, looking over my shoulder to follow her gaze.

Natalie had found Evan. The robot must have had some kind of radar or magnetic properties to help her reach him so quickly. She laughed at something, tilting her head close, her hand lying, small and pale, against his upper arm.

I turned back. I bared my teeth and hoped it resembled a smile. “I think I’ll go … circulate, or whatever you’re supposed to do at these parties. It was nice to meet you,” I said to Lucy’s husband.

When I turned away from them I drained my champagne in one gulp and grabbed another.

I wandered around the room aimlessly until a voice called my name.

I turned; Drew stood with his father by a refreshment table that was decorated with white candles and vases of poinsettias. I forced my feet to move in their direction, not certain if I wanted to mingle or not.

“Hi, Drew,” I said. “Mr. Snyder.”

“You look lovely,” Mr. Snyder said to me. “And call me John.”

“Thank you. It’s a … uh … lovely party.” Drew’s father hadn’t tripped over the word, but it sounded foreign coming out of my mouth. I felt like I was in some kind of Victorian novel and I didn’t fit.

John leaned toward me and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “You have a place at SLQ as long as you want it,” he said. “It doesn’t matter that you and Drew aren’t dating anymore.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, blinking at him as he moved off to speak to one of his employees. Drew and I stood by ourselves now, looking at each other every few seconds with awkward glances. We hadn’t spoken since we’d sat together at Sadie’s and I’d turned him down. “So,” I began, “how are you?”

“Not great,” he said. I noticed his speech was slightly slurred and whatever liquid he’d filled his tumbler glass with was the amber shade of hard liquor.

“How long have you been here?”

His lips twisted down. “Half an hour or so.”

And he was already this intoxicated? I remembered what Evan had said about people getting drunk at the Christmas parties and doing stupid things. I still felt a little protective of Drew—I didn’t want him to end up being one of those people.

“What’s not great?” I asked. Maybe if I distracted him with conversation he wouldn’t drink as much.

I frowned when he took a long drag from the glass as though storing up for later.

“I’m thinking about quitting,” he said.

“Really? Why?”

“I’m no good at it, Dani.” He shook his head. “It was easier at first, but now I’ve been working half a year and I still have no idea what I’m doing. Everyone who works with me knows it. I hate going into work most of the time.”

I knew it was selfish, but I was glad to learn I wasn’t the only one who’d experienced a postcollegiate downward spiral. I was a horrible person. “Have you talked to your dad about it?”

“No. All he talks about is how I can take over for him one day. It’s going to be a huge disappointment.” He swallowed more liquor, raising his arm to brush his mouth off.

“That’s tough,” I said. “But you should do what makes you happy. You shouldn’t sacrifice your happiness for someone else’s.”

That sounded wise, I thought, nodding, glad that I might be helping him in some way after my uncharitable thoughts. Why was it so much easier to give advice than to take it?

“We
were
better as friends, weren’t we?” he said suddenly.

Guilt seeped into every pore. “Yeah,” I agreed. “It was probably a mistake to take it further.” A selfish mistake. Mostly on my part. I should have turned him down when he’d asked me on that first date. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

He grinned, finishing off his glass. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

And then—and there was nothing I could have done to stop it because I didn’t realize what he was doing or quite how drunk he was—he grabbed a fork from the table and hit it against his glass.

The room quieted down as the discordant clanking filled the room. People turned to look at him, clearing a space around us.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

“I’m taking your advice,” he said with another silly grin, his eyes glassy. And now I could tell that he wasn’t just somewhat intoxicated, he was three sheets to the wind (whatever that saying means).

I made a note to myself to never give advice to anyone again. Especially a drunk ex-boyfriend.

Drew wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling me against him with an inexorable grip that didn’t budge even when I tried to wrestle his arm away. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I turned my face to the side to avoid breathing it in. My cheeks felt hot and flushed.

“I have an announcement!” he said once he had everyone’s undivided attention. His voice was loud and carried, though his words were heavily distorted by alcohol. “I quit!”

There was a stunned silence.

He pressed a sloppy kiss on the corner of my mouth. I wasn’t sure if that’s what he’d meant to do; maybe he was aiming for my cheek and missed. “And I want to thank Dani for being so good to me. I don’t know if anyone knows this, but she was my college girlfriend, before she started screwing that guy.” He pointed straight at Evan. “But I’m glad we can act like mature adults and still be friends.”

I peeked in Evan’s direction, mortified. He wasn’t looking at me. He was glaring at Drew like he wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. His jaw was clenched, his eyes slightly narrowed until the blue was sharp and glittering.

I’d never seen Evan so … primal.

And I’d never seen Natalie, who was still hanging on him like a parasite, so sour. Her face was mottled, her lips thin. When she spoke, though it wasn’t that loud, it was audible throughout the room because of the total quiet.

“You chose her over me?”

Evan glanced to his side, surprised, like he’d forgotten she was there. “What?” he shook his head. “I didn’t choose anyone over anyone,” he said, incredulous.

“It’s not fair,” she said, her voice thick. She reminded me of a spoiled child having a tantrum. “I thought you liked me. You led me on.”

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” he said, eyeing all the faces that were turned toward him.

He hated being the center of attention as much as I did. But I couldn’t bring myself to pity him very much. Though I was starting to worry about management witnessing this. Was I even allowed to fool around with Evan? No one had mentioned anything about coworker relationships, but maybe that was just one of those glaring things you were expected to know not to do. Like no one posted up warnings about not arriving at work naked, but it was pretty much understood that it was a really bad idea.

And I really couldn’t afford to lose this job.

“I thought you liked me,” Natalie repeated, more loudly, more strained. Obviously she wasn’t bothered by the attention.

“I don’t,” Evan finally said. “I didn’t realize you thought … ,” he trailed off, then ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you would think my being nice to you meant more than it did.”

She drew a sharp breath in. “You were ‘being nice,’” she repeated. “What, I’m not good enough for you and she is?”

He spoke quietly but in the silence everyone could hear him well enough. “That’s not what I said.”

“You don’t have to say it,” she snapped.

Her fingers tightened around her champagne glass until her knuckles turned white. Her head turned slowly toward me (kind of like something in an exorcism movie, and just as terrifying).

Drew still had me in a friendly death grip, oblivious to my escape attempts.

Natalie stalked toward me. And I was stunned to see that her eyes glistened suspiciously underneath the chandeliers. Maybe she really had liked Evan. I almost felt sorry for her then. I knew how easy it was to fall into the trap of thinking he saw something special in you, and you alone, when he was really pretending he was sick and then running around doing God knew what.

I
almost
felt sorry for her. My compassion
almost
extended that far. Until she heaved her champagne all over my face.

The shock of the cold liquid finally made Drew release me with a dismayed grunt. I stumbled back, rubbing the sticky champagne out of my eyes, no doubt smearing mascara all over. I glanced down at my lovely garage sale dress, at the dark stain already seeping into the bodice.

I bit down on my quivering lip, and Natalie cast me one last look of teary, vengeful disdain before she disappeared into the crowd.

I felt a hand touch my elbow. I knew it wasn’t Drew. I could recognize Evan, just by touch, by the warmth and gentleness. It didn’t make things any easier. If anything, feeling his caress made me angrier; my stomach twisted in knots. I shook him off, like I might brush off a fly that landed on my arm.

I had to move past the crowd to get out. They stepped aside for me as I scurried forward, one unit, faces blurring.

I couldn’t look at any of them. I didn’t know how I would go to work on Monday. I might have to follow Drew’s example and quit. Maybe I could find some way to disappear off the face of the earth while I was at it.

By the time I reached the parking lot, I was breathing in fitful gasps, both from my hurried flight and because my options were to either have a panic attack or sink down on the cold concrete and start crying.

I stood there until I felt calmer, staring up at the clear winter sky and the trembling stars in perfect silence. My breath painted the air with frost.

I heard footsteps behind me. A coat settled over my bare shoulders.

“Maybe you were right,” I said quietly. “About it being cursed.”

“You have no idea how sorry I am,” Evan said. “If I’d known Natalie could act like that, I would have stopped talking to her a long time ago.”

Everyone seemed to be apologizing tonight about one thing or another. Some Christmas party.

I shrugged. “You should have. But it doesn’t matter now.”

“Do you want to go home?”

He stood next to me, his face pointed in the direction of the parking lot. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, not knowing if by “home” he meant my apartment or his house. I didn’t think my heart knew either.