Page 52 of I Love You, I Hate You
Reproductive Justice has an opening?she wondered with a jolt. They were a national feminist organization that handled discrimination suits with an explicit intersectional mission. Victoria had volunteered for them for one semester in law school, but aside from lobbying for Smorgasbord to sponsor their 5k and attending a few fundraisers, she hadn’t had much contact with anyone there since then.
She opened her email and read so quickly she wondered if she was hallucinating.
Dear Ms. Clemenceaux,
We have an opening in our in-house counsel in Minneapolis, specifically for someone with experience with litigation. I understand if you are happy with your position at Smorgasbord, but you come highly recommended and I hope you would consider applying for the job. I have attached the details and if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.
Sincerely,
Pa Vang
Human Resources Director
Reproductive Justice
(612) 555-4982 extension 233
761 University Ave
Saint Paul, MN
You come highly recommended.Victoria wracked her brain trying to think of who she would know with connections at RJ, coming up empty. She hadn’t worked there long enough to leave a lasting impression and she didn’t know anyone who had gone into the nonprofit world after law school. Owen was the only one involved in progressive causes who she had any sort of interactions with—and he certainly wasn’t going to be recommending her for jobs right now, not after everything.
Her heart lifted. Reproductive Justice wantedher, and it might be a way out of the Smorgasbord trap. But when she looked at the details, her heart sank. Annual compensation was higher than she was expecting, but not enough. It was flattering to be wanted, but in the end that’s all it could be. She had dreams and plans and responsibilities, but those required a certain salary and that meant staying at Smorgasbord.
With a sigh, she closed her email app and returned to work.
Owen snagged a glass of wine from a passing waiter and scanned the crowd. Ashley had badgered him into coming to her latest charity gala, even though it meant time with his father. So far, Charles was safely tucked into Ashley’s side on the other side of the country club ballroom, which meant he had some time to brace himself—or to get good and drunk, if necessary. He had promised Ashley he would be civil, at the very least, and he was determined to live up to that promise.
But for now, he had some mingling to do. A familiar blonde head caught his eye and he broke into a grin. “How’s married life treating you?” he asked, hugging Cassie with one arm.
“Pretty damn awesome, I gotta say,” she replied.
“Where’s the husband?”
“Off making white people uncomfortable with his jokes, I’d imagine,” she laughed. “Someone from our law firm pulled him into a conversation about golf and I barely managed to escape with my life. Where’s Victoria?”
Owen tried and failed to hide his wince. “Not here, obviously.”
“Oh shit, sorry. I thought—you guys seemed so solid at our wedding, I assumed—god, sorry,” she stumbled.
Andy materialized to her left and plucked the wine glass from her hand, downing it in one. Their intimacy made his heart ache, remembering how easy things had been with Victoria for that short amount of time. “I swear to god, what is it about lawyers that makes them want to talk about golf? Have you ever golfed, Owen?”
“I grew up rich and white in the suburbs, so yes, I have.”
Andy shook his head, black hair gleaming under the chandelier. “I’m so glad I escaped that particular rich man disease. Anyway, how are you? How’s—”
“Tell us more about the golf conversation,” Cassie interrupted, eyes wild as she tried to silently communicate with her husband.
Owen managed a chuckle. “It’s fine, Cass. Victoria and I aren’t together anymore,” he told Andy.
“Ah, damn that sucks. You okay?”
“It’s fine,” he dismissed.
“Which one of you fucked up?” Andy asked, and Cassie elbowed him very unsubtly. “What? It’s a legit question.”
“I did,” Owen admitted.