The Dirty Truth

If we continue to let our firsts get in the way of all the other firsts that come after them, we’re doing ourselves a huge disservice—and to me, that’s downright terrifying.

Here’s to embracing all of the firsts—past, present, and future.

And remember: perspective is everything.

Yours in truth—

Elle Napier

I fold the magazine, swirl my bourbon, and sink back into my seat. I distinctly recall reading that article years ago, as it came on the cusp of a nasty breakup with my then girlfriend. She called me emotionally unavailable and damaged and a slew of other much-deserved words that I let ricochet off me with zero reaction.

After she was finished pitching her fit, I checked a few work emails as she packed up her things into a set of designer luggage and hailed a cab to somewhere else. I deleted and blocked her number after that, noting the relief that washed over me like a cool drink of water I hadn’t known I needed.

And I took Elle’s words to heart: perspective is everything.

I’ve never been relationship material, though like a fool I’ve tried my hand a time or two.

People aren’t meant to be alone; of that much I’m certain. But when you’ve been alone most of your adult life, it becomes as natural as breathing air. You don’t think about it until someone tells you to think about it.

Elle’s October 2018 article made me think about my aloneness.

But only for a moment.

Then I put that shit into perspective and moved the hell on.

My phone chimes from across the room. Placing my bourbon aside, I return the issue of Made Man to its rightful place between September and November before retrieving my device.

MIRANDA: Merger update for you. Apparently twelve people at City Gent turned in immediate resignations upon learning they were going to be working for you. Once again, your reputation precedes you.

I smirk, thumbing back a quick response.

ME: Good riddance.

MIRANDA: We lost some decent ones in that batch . . .

ME: We’ll replace them with better ones.

MIRANDA: On it. I’ll get with HR immediately.

ME: Monday.

MIRANDA: ???

ME: Take the weekend off.

MIRANDA: You feeling okay?!

ME: Never better.

I debate inserting a smiling emoji to emphasize my point but think better of it. I don’t do that shit.

In the context of everything that’s been going on with Scarlett lately, I feel like a proverbial million bucks. Knowing she’s trotting around the city with a responsible adult means one less worry polluting my mind. For the first time in months, something akin to warm relaxation spreads through my veins. Or maybe it’s the bourbon. Either way, I’m here for it.

MIRANDA: Send me a pic to prove it’s really you and not Scarlett . . .

Scarlett wouldn’t dare touch my phone—and honestly, she’s too preoccupied with her own to care. My boring business dealings don’t hold a candle to the superfluous amount of candy-colored apps and games littering her screen.

ME: Take the weekend. We’ll talk Monday.

Closing out of my messages, I pull up a moody Chopin playlist on my phone and stream it through the built-in speakers above and around me. Within seconds I’m enveloped in another place, another time, escaping to a world away from the picture-perfect one I’ve spent my entire life building.

Liquescent in my chair, I empty my thoughts. Or rather, I attempt to. It’s the strangest thing . . . every time I close my eyes, all I see is her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ELLE

“You doing okay?” I ask Scarlett. Our two-hour tour of the Tenement Museum concluded a half hour ago. Now we’re a block from West’s home, and she’s yet to say a single word. “A lot to take in, I know . . .”

“That was, like, probably the most depressing thing I’ve ever seen,” she finally says.

“I was going for something more along the lines of eye opening.”

Scarlett rolls her eyes. “I thought we were going to be doing fun things. Not . . . that.”

“We will.” I eye West’s glossy front door in the distance, and my stomach clenches with dread while the rest of me tingles in curious anticipation. Never has a man given me such a mixed bag of emotions with the mere idea of his presence. “I just wanted to show you that generations ago, people left everything they knew and everyone they loved to come to this very city to start a better life. They endured poverty and sickness and disease and death and heartbreak and government corruption . . . so that their families could someday have a better life. They weren’t even shooting for the stars—they just wanted better. So when you think about how hard things are right now, I want you to think about those thousands of families who started there, at those tenements. Think of their strength and their determination and know that you’re capable of conquering hard things too.”