Page 97 of The Rebound
I want to call Tyler. The urge is not wholly irrational. Calling Tyler is what I did after my last interview. Calling Tyler is what I did at every big moment of my life for the last three years. Tyler who would understand what I feel. Tyler who would always understand.
Or at least I thought he did.
I stare down at my phone, actually contemplating it when I hear my name. Luke appears through the passers-by, carrying a small Brown Thomas bag in his hand. Judging by the shortness of his hair, he looks like he squeezed in a cut as well.
He breaks into a relieved smile as soon as I look up and I realize he’d been nervous for me. And I’m suddenly so glad he drove me up. I’m so glad he’s with me. The feeling hits me with such force that for a moment I can only stand there. I was wrong. I don’t want Tyler here. I don’t want anyone here but him.
“It went okay then?” he asks when he reaches my side.
“I said everything I wanted to.”
“That’s the important thing. You mentioned me right?”
“First thing out my mouth. They were very impressed.” I spy a few stray hairs clinging to the side of his neck and fight the urge to brush them away. “You get your mam’s stuff sorted?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t too busy.” He waits. “Well? Are you going to tell me about it?”
“No. It’s boring. Let’s just go. Beat the traffic.”
He doesn’t buy it. “You’re one of those people who likes to dissect the entire interview word by word, aren’t you?”
“Not at all.”
He just waits.
“I think the big boss blinked at me in a really positive way,” I say, ignoring his grin. “Like in a Morse code ‘I’m going to hire you’ way. And the assistant who brought me in? Caroline? Loved me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“We clicked. And Yuusuf, the second big boss? Do you know what he asked me? What I wanted. Me. MacFarlaneneverasked me what I wanted. They always had this ‘you’re so lucky to be here’ vibe. Like they were doing me a favor by hiring me in the first place. But with Stewarts it’s like they—”
“Luke?”
I’m cut off mid-gush by a woman standing by the lobby entrance. She’s staring at us. Or rather, she’s staring at Luke.
She’s pretty. In a cute red dress with thick dark hair pulled back into a French braid. A designer bag hangs from her shoulder, a navy blazer draped over her arm.
“Oh my God!” She laughs. “It is! Hi!”
“Alison.” The sound of her name on his lips seems to shake Luke from his stupor and he jerks forward, kissing her on the cheek. “How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m surprised to see you here.” Her eyes flick to me as she smiles, welcoming me into the conversation. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“No.” An unfamiliar jealousy spikes through my previous glow. I don’t know what to do with it. “I’m Abby.”
“Abby had an interview,” Luke says.
“You did? Here? That’s great.” She sounds like she means it. “I’m actually doing some consultant work with them. They’re good people.” She adjusts the strap of her bag, glancing back at Luke. “We used to live together,” she explains when he doesn’t say anything. “Years ago. In this crappy little house in Rathmines.”
“You were roommates?” I ask. Romantic roommates? Roommates with benefits?
“Along with four other people and a stray cat that Jeremy insisted on feeding. It threw up on my bed once. No! Twice.”
Luke clears his throat, more uncomfortable than I’ve ever seen him. “How is Jeremy?”
“He’s good! Got a job at RTÉ as a radio producer. He’s loving it. My partner,” she says to me, and I almost wilt in relief. “You should have told me you were coming up. He would have loved to see you.”
“It was kind of a last-minute decision,” Luke says awkwardly. “Next time.”
