“Oh, I know,” I said. “I, um, actually came to just check out the venue.”
Now he glanced up, looking around. “Yeah. It’s not much. But I think the sparcity will help to put the focus on the paintings. Honestly, though, I thought Ivy would have more stuff done here, with the opening so soon. She must be freaking.”
And there’s my opening, I thought. I cleared my throat. “Actually, I . . . sort of wanted to talk to you about that.”
“Ivy? What about her?”
“Well,” I said, “she came by the office today. Apparently, she really needs help with this event. And some other details.”
“Ha! I bet she does.” He grinned, bending back over the painting. “What, so she’s looking for the rental agency to do that, now?”
“Not exactly.”
Now I had his full attention. “Then what did she want?”
I swallowed. “She asked me to help her. Coordinate this event, hire people to do the other stuff she needs . . .”
“You?” He laughed. “Please. Like you’d ever help her after how she’s treated you. And us.”
I didn’t say anything. In my pocket, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out, recognizing the number for Everything Island, the party supplier I’d told Ivy about all the way back on the first day I’d met her. “One sec,” I told him. “I have to take this.”
I put the phone to my ear, stepping a few feet away, his eyes still on me. There I had a clear view of his face, his expression increasingly incredulous, as I arranged for chairs and tables to be delivered to the Pavilion that coming Saturday morning. When I hung up, he shook his head.
“Oh my God,” he said. “You took the job.”
I sighed. “Theo. She’s desperate.”
“And she hates you! And you hate her!” He turned, shaking his head. “I can’t believe this. I finally emancipate myself and you dive right into the shackles. And thwart everything I’m doing in the process.”
“How can you say that?” I replied. “If this party’s a bust, it hurts you and Clyde just as much as her.”
“This party’s in Colby,” he said, waving his hand. “It doesn’t count for anything, other than a chance for Ivy to get his new work on film while the locals gape. If this stuff ends up getting the attention I think it will, Clyde won’t even need her little movie. In fact, we’ll probably be better off without it.”
Maybe it was the way he said the words Colby and locals, neither of them nicely. But I said, “We? I thought you didn’t have the job yet.”
“Why do you keep harping on that?”
“Because it’s the truth?”
“Emaline,” he said, sounding tired. “Jobs like this are earned, not given. It’s not like bringing towels to people, okay?”
Ouch. “And you think that’s all I do.”
“I think,” he said, picking up the camera again, “that you have no idea what it’s like to live in the real world.”
“Which is New York,” I said, clarifying.
“Which is anywhere other than this small, coastal berg, where you know every single person by name and nothing ever changes.”
“Berg?” I said.
He snapped a picture of the canvas. “It means small town.”
“I know what it means. I did well on my verbal, remember?”
“Clearly. You got into Columbia.”
“Who’s harping now?” I asked. “And what does that have to do with this?”
“It has everything to do with this,” he replied, turning to look at me. “Emaline, you’re a really smart girl on paper. And it’s not your fault you’ve done some not-so-smart things.”
I was speechless. Literally: no words.
“But the truth is, you haven’t had a lot of outside influences, people to show you there is another way,” he continued. “I’m here now. And I’m telling you, you do not want to take this job with Ivy. It will be a mistake.”
“You think I made a mistake turning down Columbia.” Now, apparently, I could talk. Barely.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re a girl from Colby High School who got into the one of the best schools in the country. It was a dream come true.”
“Not my dream, though.”
Another eye roll. “This is exactly my point. You don’t know what’s out there, Emaline. If you even had the slightest idea, you’d understand what you’re missing.”
Instead of replying, I looked at him, closely, standing there before me. This boy, in his jeans and expensive fitted T-shirt, hipster sneakers, owner of sport coats. Someone to whom everything had to be Big and Special, or not worth his time.
But that is the hard thing about the grand gesture. Once you pull off one, what’s left to do but start planning the next? Get used to pomp and anything less is just a disappointment. Why stop at the Best Summer Ever when you could try for the Best After Ever? The truth was, there was no way everything could be the Best. Sometimes, when it came to events and people, it had to be okay to just be. I’d already explained that to my father. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to do it again.
And it was in that moment, a plain and simple one, that I knew what he’d said was right. I didn’t know very many people like him. But I was beginning to think that was okay. One was probably enough.