“Thank you, sir,” I managed, albeit a bit gruffly.
“You start with the facts and then figure out the rest by instinct, and that, more than anything, has placed you on the partner track.”
I thanked him again as Jeremiah went to get me another drink.
“Just so we’re clear, Cameron”—he glanced at Jeremiah’s back and then returned his gaze to me—“if you prefer to work out of the Sacramento office for a while, you need only let me know. You can drive back here for client meetings, board meetings, but work primarily there. After Rauch successfully merged with Lass, business has increased there tenfold, and as you know, they are a top-tier client. Axton Enterprises has also asked for a meeting with us.”
“So I could work in Sacramento but would be able to come back to the city whenever I wanted?”
“Most certainly,” he declared. “Don’t get me wrong, I prefer you here, but I also see great potential for growth in Sacramento, and with you at the helm, I wouldn’t have to split my focus quite as much as I’m doing now, between here, LA, San Diego, and there.”
I nodded.
“And I hope it goes without saying, but if you were ever to find yourself compelled to choose between your job and something even more vital, like life and your happiness, then certainly I would want you to discuss that choice with me before you made any decisions.”
Which meant my boss, even in so short a time, could tell how serious I was about Jeremiah. I was skating perilously close to having to put a name to how I felt about the man, and since we were both already using words like ten years from now, we probably needed to have a serious conversation.
At the moment, though, my boss was telling me that I could make another choice. The tiny apartment in Sacramento that Jeremiah and I were now renting together, that we paid for jointly, could become my home-home for the year and a half it would take him to finish up his master’s. The real question was, did I want that? Did he? Time apart might keep the relationship fresh and exciting, and that was important. If we started living together full-time, maybe we would end up smothering each other. Maybe he was eagerly anticipating us being apart during the week.
But then again, maybe not.
The thought of him going home without me on Sunday afternoon was eating a hole in my stomach. I was supposed to take him to the airport, kiss him goodbye at the curb, get back in my car, and drive away. I had done it a million times with family and friends, but the idea of seeing Jeremiah in my rearview mirror made my heart hurt. It felt wrong.
But it occurred to me, maybe I was overthinking everything, as was my habit. He was probably looking forward to being alone, having time to himself. We would see each other on the weekends, unless something unforeseen happened, and we’d talk on the phone during the week. Those conversations would either go long, or we’d cut them short because I had to work or he had to work, on top of doing homework. When you were with another person every day, there was conversation and hugs and the opportunity to go get shakes at two in the morning. I wanted all those things, but I wasn’t sure I had the right to them.
“Just think about it,” Mr. Stein stressed to me.
He had no idea how hard my brain was already working.
It hadn’t occurred to me that the lounge was located across the street from a restaurant I used to frequent when Troy and I were together, until we were on our way back to the car. I had flushed so much of my time with Troy from my brain, having compartmentalized quite a bit, which had helped me when I went back to work the Monday after our breakup. People were sorry, and my response was consistent—“We’re working. We need to focus.” I suspected it took them by surprise, but they were all accountants too, so the consensus to my distaste for the subject was mainly relief.
I heard someone call my name as we walked down the sidewalk, so I turned to see who it was, and that’s when I realized I was at Briscoe’s. Fortunately, Troy wasn’t there, but Derek Chambers—who was, once upon a time, someone I considered to be a dear friend and had agreed to be my best man—was.
I lifted my hand in greeting and kept walking with Jeremiah, but Derek yelled again, wanting me to stop. Jeremiah did, because he had better manners than me, and Derek jogged over to us.
“Holy crap, Cam!” He smiled wide and gave me a pat on the shoulder, glanced at Jeremiah, and then met my gaze again. “I can’t believe I ran into you. What are you doing down here on a Wednesday night?”