I’ve never heard Phoebe so off-balance.
“I kissed him,” she says, and it’s loud enough that a couple of heads turn toward us. “A lot.”
Catherine says nothing but looks at me as if considering this development.
“It was after the cookie thing,” Phoebe says. “Not that day. Later. At the time, the cookie thing was what I told you it was.” She bites her lip. “Mostly? And there will be more. Kissing, not cookies.”
I straighten. “What? No, I like cookies.”
She glares at me, and for the first time since I’ve known her, a full blush sweeps up her throat to her face.
“There will be kissing and cookies,” she amends, looking back to Catherine. “Because Jay isn’t just smart. He’s handsome, and a really good grandson and son and … guy. And he’s funny and helpful, and easy to work with. And he has good ideas. And he’s handsome.”
“You said that one twice,” Catherine interjects.
“Let her talk,” I tell Catherine. “You were saying handsome?”
Phoebe sighs. “I told you, I don’t know how not to have something with you. But honestly, I don’t want to not havesomething with you. I mean, I do want to have something with you.”
She’s starting to look distressed, and if I had any defenses left against her, that’s what demolishes them.
“I like you too, Phoebe Hopper. Would you go on a date with me sometime?”
“I can’t believe this,” Catherine says, and Phoebe stiffens.
I will not let Catherine ruin this. She knows as well as I do—no, even better than I do—that we can make this work with the board. I reach over and take Phoebe’s hand, which is clammy, but she grips mine tightly.
“Catherine—” I start, but she isn’t having it.
“You mean to tell me you kissed her”—an emphatic finger stab toward Phoebe—“a lotbefore you even took her on a date?” Now Catherine is glaring at me, but I see a gleam in her eye.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say. “Sorry, ma’am. But in my defense, she tells me nearly every time she sees me that she won’t date me.”
“Is that true?” Catherine demands from Phoebe.
“Yes,” Phoebe says. “Uh, ma’am.”
“Dis-grace-ful,” Catherine pronounces, and she makes everySsound sibilant and chilling. She narrows her eyes at Phoebe. “Tell me this, Director Hopper. If you had it to do over again, would you handle the announcement of Hayes Bradford’s engagement the same way?”
“No,” Phoebe says, no hesitation. “I wouldn’t. He wasn’t worthy of my energy, for one. But no matter what, I should have waited to take it up with him at another time and place.”
“Very well. Let me test my powers of observation again. Are you hoping to parlay this job into a promotion at the Sutton when Diana Gill retires?”
This time Phoebe hesitates, and my stomach clenches. I’d love to not go into this today. Or ever. But especially not rightnow, when Phoebe’s revelations are still tumbling around inside me like fluffy blankets in a dryer, making me feel ten kinds of warm and happy. I’d love a month or two to enjoy that feeling. Or a week. Even a day. But I won’t get to enjoy it for even an hour.
“In some ways, it would be easier,” Phoebe says. “I love Boston. And Jay is in Boston. And I love?—”
My heart skips a beat.
“—the idea of more time with him.” She meets my eyes without flinching. “I’m pretty sure I’m still going to want as much time as I can get with him when that position opens up.”
Well, you love to hear it, don’t you?
“But no,” she says, surprising meagain. “I don’t think the Sutton is the right place for me. The Museum of Serendipity is.” She switches her gaze to meet Catherine’s eyes. “Foster was right to choose me.”
Catherine settles back again. “Phoebe, these letters actually explain why I was resentful toward you during your time at the Sutton. You had the job I’d dreamed of for myself, and I never got to do it. Times were different. Expectations were different. I don’t regret my choices, as much as I wish I could live both versions of my life. I saw in you someone who wasn’t taking your opportunity as seriously as I would have, and at some level, I suppose I was punishing you for it. No,” she says, when Phoebe opens her mouth to speak. “Let me finish. I was wrong to do that, and I’m sorry. But I was correct that you were not the right fit for the Sutton.”
“But I—” Phoebe starts to say until I squeeze her hand. I’m learning to have faith in Catherine.
