Drunk on Love(100)

He spent almost all day on campus, talking to different groups, standing in front of too many whiteboards, having lunch, chatting with former coworkers. It all felt so familiar that when he was finally on his way back home, he almost took the wrong freeway exit, to drive back to his old place, instead of to Napa.

He was sitting in traffic when Avery called.

“Hey! How’d it go today? Do you want to get a drink and fill me in? Or do you have plans with Margot?”

He’d ignore that last question.

“It went well,” he said. “And sure. But I’m still on my way back and there’s a ton of traffic, so give me an hour or so?”

“Okay,” she said. “But if it went well, why does your voice sound like that?”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like you’ve been kidnapped and this is a hostage phone call and you have to tell me it went well because they have a gun to your head,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “Nothing’s wrong. I was great, they were all excited to see me back. Way more excited than I expected, actually. I think I have a pretty good shot at the job.”

He finally got past the accident that was slowing everything down, and sped up.

“Then why did you just sigh like that when you said you have a pretty good shot at the job?” she asked.

Huh. He hadn’t done that on purpose.

“Oh. I didn’t mean to.” He sighed again and caught himself. “It’s just . . . I don’t know, it was weird to be back there.”

“Weird how?” Avery asked.

Weird to drive back into that parking lot; weird to have that complicated interview, which tested him on nothing important; weird to have to say hi to people he’d thought he’d escaped forever.

“I just . . . didn’t expect to be back there, I guess. But they seem excited about me for the job. It’s a big deal: lots of money and a big title, and I’ll be able to—”

“What does all of that matter if you hate it?” she asked him.

That question threw him.

“Why are you assuming that I’ll hate it?” he asked.

“Um, maybe because you hated working there before?” she asked.

“I didn’t hate working there before. I just . . .”

He stopped.

“Yeah, you did,” she said.

Yeah. He had, he supposed. But so what if he did?

“Whatever, it’s fine. I liked it at the beginning, didn’t I? I can like it again. All of those other people are there, they don’t hate it, they can handle it. I just need to—”

“Need to what?” Avery asked. “Work harder? Get a thicker skin? Show them how good you are, how smart you are? And then what? What’s that going to get you? It’s not going to make you happy. I know you liked it at the beginning, but that was forever ago. You haven’t liked it for a long time.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’ll be fine, and I’ll—”

“Yes, it does matter!” Avery yelled. “What’s wrong with you, Luke? I thought you were coming to your senses.”

Now Avery was going to be mad at him, too?

“Coming to my senses, how? Nothing is wrong with me! I need a job, don’t I? Something more than working at a winery, or the inn! And going back there will be good for my career.”

Why was everyone being shitty to him about this?

“Oh, Luke.” Avery sighed. “I get it, I do. I get why you think you need this job. But we can’t spend our whole lives chasing someone else’s approval. Your mom’s, your mentor’s, people you don’t even like.”

“That’s not what I’m doing! I’m trying to make a success of my life, why can’t anyone understand that?”

This was the most frustrating conversation he’d had since . . . Sunday.

“You don’t have to be unhappy in order to be successful in life!” Now she was yelling again. “You liked your job at the winery a lot! And yes, some of that was because you had the hots for your boss, but it wasn’t all Margot—I saw you at the party, you like all of those people. You even like your job working for your mom—at least, you like it better than your old job, which, again, you hated!”

He shouldn’t have picked up the fucking phone when she’d called.

“Avery, I’m really not in the mood for this right now. Can we just—”

She ignored him.

“Do you remember when you told me you always hated Derek, after we broke up, and I started crying?”

Fuck, she had to bring that up now, didn’t she?

“Yeah, of course. I’m really sorry that I—”

“I know you’re sorry. The thing is, I was miserable with him. I hadn’t been in a real relationship for so long when he and I started dating, and when he wanted me, it felt like okay, great, I have to hold on to this one, what if I don’t have another chance? But I wasn’t happy with him. I was so unhappy with him. You saw it, you knew.”

“Yeah. I knew,” he said.

“And I knew you hated him, of course I knew that. But I thought it didn’t matter. I thought it was fine. But my confidence was shot, I felt like a different person, I didn’t feel like me.”