And this time, I'm going to heed her advice to throw caution to the wind. Joshua stretches out on the dock beside me, putting his skinny arms beneath his head. It's such a teenage pose, showcasing the length of his legs and torso. The shorts we'd bought him for this trip already look a bit short.
But he's only nine.
Is this the precursor of a growth spurt?
"You gotta stop growing, kid," I tell him. "It's going too fast."
He grins up at the sky, a boy without a care in the world. A boy who was brave enough to swim with a whale shark today. His smile had been ecstatic when we'd been back on the boat, my arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders to keep him from shivering.
"I'll be ten in a few months," he informs me.
"Don't remind me."
"You want me to be a kid forever?"
I lie back on the dock beside him, my feet hanging off the edge. The sky is as turquoise above us as the Pacific beyond.
"I want you to be my kid forever."
He laughs. "I'll still be your kid when I'm a grown-up."
"Yes, I suppose you're right."
"You're being stupid, Dad." He shakes his head, nudging me with his elbow. "And we'll go on adventures then, too."
My heart aches with love for him, and for the first time in years, something pricks behind my eyes. I look up at the heavens above. Thank you, Jenny.
"Yes," I assure him. "We always will."
"Who knows?" Toby asks. "It could have been anything. Breach of contract. Insider trading. Perhaps he just pissed Mr. Conway off one time too many."
Quentin shakes his head. "No, the man wouldn't fire someone who's productive just because of his attitude. Ten bucks it's because he harassed someone."
"Are we really taking bets on this?" I ask, my hand tight around my glass of whiskey. The first day back after the Christmas holidays, and the entire office had been abuzz with speculation about the personnel changes. It's a weight off my shoulders that nothing relates to me.
"You don't have any theories?" Toby asks me. He's sitting across from me, his arm brushing Quentin's on the bar table. Both seem entirely relaxed with this casual touch.
"I don't," I say. "And to tell you the truth, I doubt we'll ever find out. Management is being really tight-lipped about it."
"These things leak. They always do."
"Mmm, not all things," I murmur, nodding to them. I can't help letting them know what I suspect, not when we work so closely.
Quentin goes still. Toby, however, doesn't. He laughs. "Freddie, you know?"
I shrug. "I always thought you two would be cute together."
Quentin looks away from our booth to the crowded bar, a flush rising on his cheeks. "Cute," he mutters.
Toby elbows him, still looking at me. "Although now we have a new problem."
Quentin looks back at me, face fondly resigned. "I was offered a job today."
My eyebrows rise. "What? Really?"
"Yes. Apparently Eleanor's been offered a position higher up, so to speak."
Clive's job. It has to be. "Oh God, are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"I'm not saying anything," is his cool response, "as I'm not yet allowed to."
"But you see what this means, right?" Toby asks. "We're not just co-workers who are dating. I will now be dating my boss. That's a whole different ballgame with HR."
I can't help but laugh, and there's no stopping it, despite my happiness for them. The irony is too much. Toby joins in, even if he's laughing for a different reason. "It's like a bad movie, isn't it? What do I do?"
"You're an MBA grad," Quentin comments, and it's the first time I've heard him say it without a trace of scorn. "You're in high demand in all the other departments too."
"But then I'd leave Freddie behind," Toby says, touching his glass to mine. "How would she survive without my guidance?"
"I'd flounder," I say, my smile growing wider. As happy as I am for them, I'm just as nervous about talking to Tristan again. When I see him next, I'll have to tell him what I decided.
What I'd told Eleanor the day before I left for Philadelphia.
That while I truly appreciated the offer, I was committed to staying at the Exciteur headquarters and fulfilling the position for which I was hired.
The second I'd said it, and the moment I'd seen the begrudging acceptance and respect in Eleanor's eyes, I'd felt completely at ease with my decisions. Happy, even. Italy will still be there in a few years. In decades, too. But what I have going on now feels more important.
Tristan feels more important.
But I don't know if he'll think less of my ambition because of it.
My phone rings, vibrating on the table between us. I give Quentin and Toby an apologetic smile and slide off the stool.
My heart stops in my chest when the familiar caller ID appears.
I weave my way through the people in the bar as I answer, still in the outfit I'd worn at work.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Freddie." His deep voice is familiar in my ear, like the past two weeks of separation hadn't happened. "I'd very much like to see you."
I swallow. "I'd like that too. Did you just get back from Tahiti?"
"Yes, a few hours ago. I can come to the bodega on your street, if you'd like."
Someone screams beside me in post-work bliss and drink, and I hold my hand to my ear. "Sorry, sorry, I'm heading for the exit."
"You're at a bar? Oh. The one close to work."