The Unhoneymooners

“Stop what?”

“Being so emotionally balanced!”

He pauses and a slow grin takes over his face. “Okay?”

I grab my coat and purse and make for the door, fighting a grin because I know he’s laughing at me behind my back. And I’m totally okay with it.

• • •

I AM REMINDED HOW SMALL Hamilton Biosciences actually is when I step into the lobby, where a woman named Pam has been working the desk for thirty-three years. Kasey, the HR representative I interviewed with a couple of months ago, greets me and beckons me to follow. If we turned left, we’d end up in the office suite of the legal team of three. But we take a right down the hall that leads us to the mirror-­image suite that houses the HR department of two.

“Research is just across the courtyard,” Kasey says, “but all of the medical affairs folks—if you remember!—are upstairs in this building.”

“That’s right!” I adopt her upbeat tone, following her into her office.

“We’ll just have a few forms to get you rolling, and then you can head upstairs to meet with the rest of your team.”

My heart takes off at a gallop as the reality of this sets in. I’ve been in a blissed-out la-la land for the past couple of weeks, but real life is back, front and center. For now, I’ll only have one direct report working under me, but from what Kasey and Mr. Hamilton told me when I was here last, there should be lots of opportunities for growth.

“You’ll have some manager training,” Kasey is saying, rounding her desk, “which I believe is this Thursday. Gives you a little time to get in, get settled.”

“Great.”

I smooth my hands down my skirt and try to swallow down my nerves while she opens up some files on her computer, while she bends and retrieves a folder from a cabinet near her knee, while she opens it and pulls out some forms. I see my name at the top of all of them. Anxiety slowly gives way to thrill.

I have a job! A job that is solid, and secure, and—let’s be honest—will probably be boring sometimes but will pay the bills. It’s what I went to school for. It’s perfect.

Elation fills my chest, making me feel buoyant.

Kasey organizes a stack of paperwork for me, and I begin signing. It’s the usual: I won’t sell company secrets, won’t commit various forms of harassment, won’t use alcohol

or drugs on the premises, won’t lie, cheat, or steal.

I’m deep into the stack when Mr. Hamilton himself peeks his head into her office. “I see our Olive is back on the continent!”

“Hey, Mr. Hamilton.”

He winks, and asks, “How’s Ethan doing?”

I glance quickly to Kasey and back. “Um, he’s great.”

“Olive just got married!” he says. “We ran into each other on her honeymoon in Maui.”

Kasey gasps. “Oh, my God! I thought you were with a sick relative! I am so glad I misunderstood!” My stomach seems to melt away; I had completely forgotten about telling Kasey this stupid lie in the airport. She doesn’t seem to notice anything off and barrels on: “We should have a party!”

“Oh, no,” I say, “please don’t.” Insert awkward laugh. “We are all partied out.”

“But for sure he should join the spouses club!” she says, already nodding vigorously at Mr. Hamilton.

I know Mrs. Hamilton founded the club, but my God, Kasey, take it down a notch or two.

Mr. Hamilton winks at me. “I know Molly put on the hard sell, but it is a fun group.”

This is going too far already. I’m so bad at lying that I’ve forgotten lies I’ve already told. Ethan and I aren’t going to be able to keep this up for very long at such a close-knit company. I have a sinking feeling inside, but feel a tiny twinge of relief knowing that I’m going to put this lie to rest at last.

“I’m sure the spouses club is amazing.” I pause, and I know I could leave it at that, but I’ve just signed all these forms and really want to make a fresh start here. “Ethan and I aren’t actually married. It’s sort of a funny story, Mr. Hamilton, and I hope it’s okay if I come by later and tell you about it.”

I’d wanted to keep it simple, but I can tell I should have built up my version a little bit. This just sounds . . . bad.