She gave me a wry smile. “Now you’re acting like a VP.”

I smiled back.

“Well,” she said, “we are still looking to fill Alexa’s position, so your timing couldn’t be better.”

My stomach cramped. “Oh, no, I couldn’t step into her job.” How could I possibly take Alexa’s space when I’d so unfairly axed her?

Roslyn shrugged. “That’s what’s available, Billy. Take it or leave it.”

“What about my old position? The one that was vacated when I was promoted?”

Roslyn scoffed. “That was filled eons ago.”

“By who?”

Again, she cocked her head. “I can’t remember now. Good Lord, what’s wrong with me? But it doesn’t matter, that position is long gone. You’ll have to take Alexa’s spot.”

“Couldn’t we rehire her? I know I asked before, but really, she’s such an asset.” I’d send myself to the street if it meant getting Alexa her job back.

Roslyn gave me a queer look. “You’re right, we have discussed this, and as I said then, this company does not rehire people who were terminated for cause. End of discussion. You’ll be taking her position. Effective Monday.”

My arms quivered as I walked the hallway, trying to shrug off my jacket. It felt as heavy and hot as armor. In my head, my overachieving sisters sang a chorus-What have you done? What have you done? You’ve given up an officer’s position! They were loud and hitting lots of high notes, which made my body tremble more. I’d just willingly tossed away the position I’d strived toward for over a decade. I heard my father’s voice-much weaker-chime in with, Sometimes you have to know when to double back.

I got a flash of what it would be like to come in Monday morning-quizzical, pitying looks from coworkers, packing of my office and retreating to a tiny cubicle, attempts to explain it (a lame, “I thought this would be best for me”), receiving of assignments from people I’d been ordering around lately. I began to sweat.

I took off my jacket and rolled my shoulders to release the tension, reminding myself that it didn’t matter how this would look to others, it only mattered how it felt to me. And the truth was, when I peered around my panic and examined the rest of my mind, I spied sheer relief.

Except for one thing. I had to talk to Alexa and soon, before she got wind of this. I wasn’t even sure if Alexa still spoke to anyone from Harper Frankwell, other than myself, but I knew it had to be me who told her. And this was a conversation that had to take place in person, I decided. In a strange way, I’d come to enjoy Alexa’s friendship, and she deserved face-to-face honesty. I looked at my watch-4:15. I stopped at an empty cubicle and dialed Chris’s number. His secretary said that she thought his dep would last at least another two hours. Just enough time for me to stop by Alexa’s.

I hustled toward the elevator, tossing my jacket over my arm, but a voice made me stop.

“Getting ready for me?” Evan said.

I turned, and there he was, all blond hair and dimples, smiling a private smile. “Excuse me?” I said politely.

He gestured with his chin toward the coat I’d stripped off, and gave me a wicked raise of one eyebrow.

“Ev,” I said.

He took a few steps until we were only an inch apart. “I missed you,” he said in that low voice.

I took in the tanned skin of his face and the brown flecks in his green eyes. I glanced at those lips, the lower one pillowy and much larger than the top. But instead of feeling thrilled and stirred inside, I felt ill with remorse, and now I started noticing everything Chris had that Evan didn’t. Chris’s eyes were kind while Evan’s, at least to me, were blatantly sexual. Chris’s mouth was generous, waiting to tell stories about Shakespeare’s myth and his own hunt for the perfect Raclette cheese, ready to smile at me or kiss me on the forehead, while Evan’s mouth was ready only for laughs and raw pleasure.

I had outgrown my crush.

“Can I talk to you privately?” I said.

The eyebrow shot higher. “Anytime.”

I turned and walked toward my office. Might as well use it one more time. I closed the door behind us and leaned my back against the door. Evan perched on the desk.

“I thought I explained on the phone,” I said. “I asked you to respect me and my marriage. None of this-” I waved my hand between him and me “-can happen again.”

His cocky grin fled his face, and he looked at me pensively. “I did listen to you. I’m leaving Harper Frankwell.”

“What?” I stepped away from the door, toward him, thinking now of Evan only as my friend, my one friend in this firm.

“I’m going to New York. To Norwich & Towney. I just accepted the job five minutes ago.”

Right when I was demoting myself. “You can’t leave Harper. You’ve been here forever.”

“Exactly. Time to move on.” He loosened the collar of his blue and white checked shirt. “And like you said, I had to respect your decision. With me gone, nothing will happen.”

“Oh, God, Ev. I’ve made such a mess of this.” I covered my face with my hands. I’d wished for Evan to be interested in me. More than interested-I’d hoped for him to lust after me. I’d gotten the interest, I’d gotten the lust, and I’d made such a spectacular muddle of it Evan felt he had to leave.

“You didn’t do anything,” Evan said. “I’ve been thinking about New York anyway.”

I raised my face. “You were?”

“Hell, yeah. I’ve dated all the women in Chicago, right? Greener pastures and all that.”

We both laughed, but they were small, weak laughs.

“You’re sure?” I said.

“I’m positive. Two weeks, baby, and I’m living on Spring Street.”

“When will you tell Roslyn?”

“Right now.”

“I don’t know if now is a good time, especially after the conversation I just had with her.”

“What conversation is that?”

“I demoted myself.”

He scoffed. “C’mon.”

“I’m serious. I asked for my job back as an account exec.”

His mouth dropped open a little. “Are you kidding? Why?”

“I’m no good at being a VP.”

“You were good enough. You just didn’t like it.”

I thought about that for a moment. “You could tell?”

“Of course I could tell. We grew up together around here.”

We were both silent.

“You know, Ev,” I said, breaking the silence. “Roslyn is going to ask you to leave immediately.”

“I know.”

I thought about the first time I’d seen Evan-standing at the receptionist’s desk with his brand-new briefcase. I thought of our closed-door meetings in his office where we’d gossip about coworkers, and I thought about our lunches discussing dates and families and career paths. Now those paths had diverged. Our lives were heading for opposite ports. Hopefully, like friends from the past, we’d always remember the exceptional moments spent together.

“I’ll miss you,” I said. “I’ll miss our friendship.”

He touched me on the shoulder, then took his hand away, leaving a cold spot. “We’ll always be friends,” he said. But it sounded like a greeting card designed for high school graduation, and I knew the situation was probably the same. We promised to be close forever; we’d mean it. But new friends and daily routines would get in the way.

“I should talk to Roslyn,” he said. “You know, give her time to forge a warpath to my desk and set fire to it.”

“Right,” I said. “Make you an example for others.”

“Exactly.”

I opened the door and stepped back to let him pass. I wanted to hug him, but it no longer seemed an option. We’d gone past the point of friendly embraces.

“See you,” I said.

He grinned. “Yeah, see you.”

I knew we were both lying.

At Alexa’s building, I asked the cabbie to wait.

“Make it quick,” he grumbled.

The warm weather had brought everyone to their cement stoops, and I had to pick my way past four teenaged guys to get to the buzzer. They stopped their conversation. They eyed me predatorily, as if I was holding the latest video game that featured mass killing.