The Kiss Quotient(85)

Econometrics?

Giving that up would be the biggest sign of her commitment. Her work was such a pivotal part of her life that if she resigned, everything would change. She really would be a new person.

She set her glasses on her desk and covered her eyes with her palm, giving up on the data on the screen. Her mind was simply too overwrought to focus. If she couldn’t do her work, maybe she should resign.

Maybe she should devote herself to something with more concrete benefits to society. Like the medical field. She could be a doctor if she tried hard enough. She didn’t love physiology and chemistry, but what did that matter? Most doctors probably focused on the end results of their labor instead of the daily reality of their work. Truth be told, it was better if the work bored her. She wouldn’t obsess over it then.

That was it. She had to quit her job.

With stiff fingers and feverish determination, she began drafting a letter of resignation to her boss.

Dear Albert,

Thank you for the past five years. Being a part of your team was an invaluable experience to me. I cherished the opportunity not only to study fascinating, real market data but to effect measurable change in the economy through the application of econometric principles. However, I must leave because

Because what? Albert would not understand any of the reasoning filling her brain right now. He was an economist. All he cared about was economics.

If she told him she was autistic, he wouldn’t care. It didn’t impact her effectiveness as an econometrician in a negative way. If anything, her obsessive tendency to hyperfocus for long periods of time, her love of routines and patterns, and her extremely logical mind that couldn’t comprehend casual conversation made her a stronger econometrician.

It was a shame those same things made her unlovable.

A discreet knocking sounded against the door, and she checked the clock before turning around to see Janie walk into her office. Right on schedule. She hurried to minimize the letter of resignation and stood up to face her internship candidate.

Janie smiled, and though her lips trembled with nervousness, the action still reminded Stella so much of Michael that her heart squeezed.

Belatedly, she shook Janie’s hand. “I’m so glad to see you. Please, have a seat.”

Janie brushed her hands over her black skirt suit and sat. She tapped her toes for several seconds before she crossed her ankles. “Good to see you, too, Stella.”

In the awkward silence that ensued, Stella absently scratched her neck. The opened seams of her shirt felt like lines of ants crawling on her skin.

“How are you?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the itching.

“Me? Er, I’m fine.” Janie wore her long hair loose today, and she tucked a dark brown tendril behind her ear as she looked down at her leather portfolio on Stella’s desk. “Michael is not fine.”

Stella’s chest tightened, and the skin on her face prickled. “Oh no, why? What happened? Is your mom okay?”

“My mom is fine. Don’t worry,” Janie said, making calming gestures with her hands. “Well, she’s upset with Michael. She wants him to quit coming to the shop, but he won’t. On top of that, he’s been intolerably grouchy lately, and he’s working nonstop. It’s like he’s possessed. We’re all worried and annoyed.”

“I don’t—I don’t understand why he should be unhappy.” He couldn’t possibly be unhappy for the same reason she was. Hopelessness mixed with the abrasion of open seams on her skin, making her want to tear her shirt off and scream.

“It’s you. He misses you.”

She shook her head. That was impossible. Hearing her deepest desire said out loud filled her with bitterness that verged on anger. “How about we get this interview started?” She gathered up the case study documents she’d prepared and handed them to Janie.

Instead of looking at them, Janie set the papers on top of her portfolio. “Why did you two break up?”

Because they’d never really been together to start with. Because she’d only ever been a charity case to him.

Stella busied herself digging through her file drawer as her eyes glassed over. After several precarious moments of furious blinking, the danger of tears passed. She swallowed, cleared her throat, and said, “That’s not relevant for this interview. I’ll give you five minutes to read the case study and then we can talk about it.”

“I think you two need to talk.”

“We had a lengthy talk.” One Stella didn’t want to go through again. If she heard him say she wasn’t enough again, she’d lose it.

“Well,” Janie said. “Being apart clearly isn’t working for either of you. You need to talk again.”

Stella rubbed her temple, caught a concentrated whiff of the perfume she’d sprayed on her wrist, and felt her lunch crawl up her throat. She yanked her hand away from her face and breathed through her mouth. “I can’t.”

“Come on, Stella. I know he probably screwed up somehow, but give him another chance. He’s crazy about you.”

“It wasn’t Michael who screwed up. It was me.” She’d screwed up by being herself.

“I have a hard time believing that. Michael is really bad at relationships. He has issues.”

That gave Stella pause. She was the one with the issues. Wasn’t she? “What kind of issues?”