Page 115 of Love Is an Art
Great. No pressure.
I gather in a huddle with the rest of the single women.
Paisley stands in front of me. “No offense, but there’s no way I’m going to let you get it.”
Lindsay looks over and frowns. She gestures at me—or Paisley?—to move up to the front. The DJ plays “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” I’m all for competition, but not for women competing against each other for a man.
I smile stiffly and move up to the front row, Paisley by my side. She steps a little forward, her shoulder in front of mine.
Lindsay turns around, her back facing us, and tosses the bouquet over her shoulder.
In our direction.
I jump for it, but Paisley blocks me out and grabs it.
Paisley holds the flowers high, grinning triumphantly at me.
I nod, conceding her victory, and return to our table. Where there is no Zeke.
The DJ calls up the winners of the bouquet and boutonniere toss and asks them to take the dance floor as he plays “I’ve Found Love (Now That I’ve Found You).”
I watch them. Zeke is stiff. Not the Zeke who danced the salsa with me. But he’s also so tight that it’s clear he’s not comfortable. Because he still has feelings for her?
Paisley leans in, resting her head against his shoulder. They fit together.
I don’t consider myself a jealous person, but seeing them in an embrace …
It’s because he wanted to marry her. And I’m so different from Paisley. What if he doesn’t feel the same way about me that I do about him?
I turn away. I don’t want to watch Zeke holding Paisley and torture myself with these questions.
I can disappear to the bathroom. But when I get inside the main building, a server says the bathroom is being cleaned, and there’s another one at the back of the second building near the gazebo.
Stuffed Shirt waylays me. “Would you like to dance?”
“Not particularly. I don’t think we have that kind of relationship.” I keep walking.
“What kind of relationship do you have with Zeke? Is it serious?” He keeps pace beside me.
I sigh. “That’s none of your business. And I’m on my way to the ladies’ room.”
“There’s a bathroom over there that’s probably not as crowded.” He points to an entrance around the corner of the second building. I thought they said the back, but maybe that’s what they meant. I change course, but he follows.
“Paisley said she saw you guys together at the MoMA. Before that investigation.”
I stop and face him. “She did. We had a few dates, and then we decided not to pursue a relationship.”
“Is this smart of you to date right before the end of the bonus period?” he asks. “You didn’t quite seem your usual competitive self when you and that last guy broke up. You let me get the Menmal case. What was his name … Wyatt?”
I was a disaster after our breakup and not completely my same competitive self. But I didn’t volunteer for the Menmal case because it was going to be a hot mess.“I didn’t realize you were so interested in my personal life.”
“And didn’t you break up because you worked too much?” he continues.
Ugh. I have a dim memory of saying that over drinks with summer associates last summer to console a junior associate who had been dumped.
“What if I told the partnership that you were dating Zeke and didn’t disclose it?” He taps his chin. “I think that might hurt your chances for the bonus.”
That’smore in line with the Stuffed Shirt I know.
