The next day, Rory stared at her computer screen, unable to move, think, or do much of anything. It had been a full thirty-six hours since she and Connor had broken up, and still it didn’t seem real. His parting look—a perfect blend of disgust, anger, and injured pride—played on a loop inside her head, blotting out all other thought. Worse, Amelia was humming, loudly, on the other side of the cubicle wall, and it was starting to get on her nerves.
“Hey, Amelia,” she said. “You mind keeping it down a little?”
Amelia wheeled herself into view. “Sorry. I’m just really happy. My aunts and uncles are coming in from Massachusetts for the festival. I’m like a celebrity in the family now.” She took off her glasses and peered at Rory’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“I broke up with my boyfriend Saturday night.”
“Oh, no,” Amelia gasped. “That sucks. Sorry.”
“Thanks,” she said, suddenly embarrassed to look her in the eye.
“Did he do it? Or did you? Oh. You know what? Don’t tell me. That’s none of my business.”
“He did it,” Rory said. “But it’s okay. It was sort of… winding down.”
“Do you need anything? You want me to run out for ice cream? Beer?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
Amelia worked one of her curls around her finger. “You’re not gonna leave or anything, right? I mean, I won’t know what to do if you’re not here every day. Who else am I gonna talk to?”
“No, I’m not gonna leave. Don’t worry.”
“Because it would seriously suck if you weren’t here next month for the screening. I mean, I have you to thank for everything. I’d be so sad if you weren’t there.”
Rory’s work phone rang. She reached for it. “Yes?”
“Hi, Rory, it’s Nina,” said the voice on the other end. “I just wanted to know, do you know if the Rules prefer salmon or veal?”
Rory took a deep breath. “I really don’t know,” she said, trying not to sound annoyed.
“I’ll do salmon,” Nina said, and clicked off.
“What was that?” Amelia asked.
“Another emergency question about what my boyfriend’s parents like to eat,” she said. “Sorry. My ex-boyfriend’s parents.”
“My god,” Amelia said, rolling her eyes. “They’re really stressing about this family, aren’t they?”
“They really are.”
Her phone rang again. Rory reached for it, already annoyed. “Yes?”
“Hey, Rory, it’s Evan.”
She shot forward in her chair.
“I’m downstairs, on the sidewalk. I just tried your cell and got voice mail. So I called the main line and they put me through.”
“Hi,” she said, already smiling.
“Can you take a break for a second? Maybe come down here?”
“Uh… sure,” she said. “Hold on. I’ll be right there.” She slammed down the receiver.
“You being summoned again?” Amelia asked with a wry smile.
“I’ll be right back,” Rory said, too distracted once again to make eye contact. She picked up her purse and went to the elevator, her heart pounding. In the elevator on the way down, she ran a brush through her hair and put on some lipstick. He’d been in the back of her mind since the breakup, but more as a fantasy than anything real.
He stood waiting outside the door to her building, shading his face from the sun. Earbuds dangled from his hand, and he had on his Captain America T-shirt.
“Hey,” she said.
“I had some time before work,” he said. “Thought I’d check on you. I heard you and Connor broke up.”
Rory slipped on her sunglasses. “Isabel told you?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. How are you doing?”
“I’ve been better.”
“And he’s not trying to get you back?”
“He’s the one who did it.”
Evan shook his head. “Is he on some weird mind-altering drugs I don’t know about?”
She laughed. “That, I can’t say.”
“I just wanted you to know that if you need anything, I’m here. And the other night at the party, the stuff that I said—”
“It’s okay,” she cut in. “You don’t have to explain.”
“No, I sort of do,” he said. “All that stuff I said? About Isabel? About not being happy?”
“I didn’t say a thing,” Rory assured him. “I promise. Not a word.”
“That’s not it,” he said. “I did mean all those things. I’ve given this all a lot of thought. And I think I’m going to end it.”
“You can’t,” Rory blurted. “Please don’t.”
“But it has nothing to do with you,” he said. He smiled. “Okay. Maybe it has a little bit to do with you.” His green eyes flashed in that mischievous way. “But we’re not right for each other. She’s beautiful, and smart, and funny, and cool and everything, but something’s off. The other night at the party, when she got so drunk, it was weird. A turnoff. She said some things.”
“Like what?” Rory asked, torn between wanting to know and not wanting to know.
“Well, she was really drunk, as you know, and I was helping her into bed, and she called me another name. She called me Mike.”
“She was drunk,” Rory said quickly.
“I’ve known there was someone else for a long time.”
“There isn’t.”
“I don’t mean she’s seeing someone else. I mean she’s thinking about someone else. I can just tell. One night when we were out at this bar in Montauk, she got all agitated because someone was there, and she wanted to leave.”
“Look, she was drunk out of her mind,” Rory said. “Don’t break up with her, okay? Why are you even telling me this?” She turned back into the lobby of her building.
“I have to do it. Otherwise, it’s not fair to her.”
“I’m literally going to erase every word of this conversation from my brain.”
“It has nothing to do with you,” he said.
“I have to go,” she said. She gave him a quick wave, then took the steps two at a time up to East End Fest’s third-floor offices. Just being in the same physical presence as those words—I’m going to break up with her—made her feel like the worst kind of accomplice. Now she had another secret to keep, on top of the secret about Mr. Knox, and on top of Isabel’s feelings for Mike. There was no way this was going to end well. Not at all.