Charles couldn't entirely process what had just happened. He was conflicted: in a sense, he was relieved that he hadn't had his eye on a twentysomething for the better part of a year, more or less since the first time he saw her. On the other hand, he felt completely betrayed. Nothing he'd been through with Liza, this person he'd fallen so deeply for, was rooted in truth.
He opted to walk home to clear his mind, but he couldn't help but notice spots along the way that reminded him of her; as he turned west and traced the edges of Times Square, he glanced at tourists posing for photos on the staircase where he'd had to intervene when L.L. Moore got a little too grabby at the Crown of Kings launch. As he headed north, he walked past the deli - his former secret breakfast spot - where he'd seen her sitting at the counter reading Tolstoy before work and gently ribbed her for reading dense prose before her second cup of coffee. All these places, once just buildings on an anonymous block, meant something to him now because of her.
Or whoever he thought she was.
It made sense, he thought. All the times she'd hesitated when he'd joked about her age; her jaded, self-deprecating sense of humor; those hints she'd given when she'd tried to tell him, but it never happened. Her "older friends". Her stint at the department store in New Jersey. The pieces all began to fall into place, and he had a pit in his stomach as he walked up Broadway near Columbus Circle. How could he not have known this entire time?
It was hard enough to navigate this personally, but the entire Millennial imprint was at stake now, too. As the publisher, Charles had to lead, not ask others for advice, but knowing how Kelsey had dealt with this revelation could help him come up with a game plan.
He started a text. "I know it's late, but are you still in midtown? Could you meet for a drink? It's about Liza." He paused, then deleted it. He had a better idea.
By the time he walked into the pub around the corner on 83rd St., Jay was waiting for him with a bourbon for each of them. "Upchuck! Just the oak tree I was hoping to get a drink with tonight."
Charles smiled and offered his hand to shake, but Jay pulled him in for a hug instead. "Thanks for meeting me on such short notice," Charles said. "It's been a hell of a week."
"And it's only Monday," Jay reminded him. "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I hope it's not too uncomfortable to ask," Charles said, "but I need advice...about Liza." He tilted his head, trying to tell Jay wordlessly what he'd learned. "She'd only had good things to say about you, and I know you know her, well, probably better than I do at this point."
"Ah," Jay said, "one of your most promising employees and a lovely girl."
"Yes, but," Charles said, being more straightforward this time. "She and I talked after work today, and she told me everything."
"Oh?" Jay said, trying to figure out what exactly "everything" entailed.
"I need you to be straight with me," Charles said. "How long have you known?"
"What," Jay asked, laughing, "that she's our age, or that she's in love with you?"
Charles raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "What?"
"Oh, please," Jay said. "You had to know. She told me after you and Pauline got whisked away in that pumpkin carriage SUV after the Pubbies and left us in your dust. I never stood a chance. You'd be a great match."
Charles' heart dropped. There were going to be more revelations like this, and they were all going to sting as he realized how deep these dishonesties were - and how many people they affected.
"I have to call her, don't I?" he said, tapping his knuckles on the bar. "What do I say?"
"Ask her how old she wants to be at work," Jay said. "The best thing you can do is let her decide how - and when - to get herself out of this whole story she's created."
Charles nodded. "You're right."
"And," Jay said, "start taking notes now. Once this all blows over, this would be a hell of a book. Can Macmillan take it?"
"Let me see what I can do," Charles said, offering his glass to clink.
