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The others’ cars had arrived and had whisked everyone—Tom, Connor, Roman, Stewy—off into the dawn hours. Kendall stood alone on the loading dock, listening two a few errant seagulls fly over Sunset Park.
He didn’t know when she’d appeared beside him, but he felt a warmth—and turned.
“Hey,” she said in a low, even voice. Her eye contact was jarring in the grey haze.
“Hey.”
“You seemed busy in there tonight.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” Kendall was suspicious of her, and still reeling from the adrenaline surge at the thought of the deal that would be struck later that morning. Alpha energy—however short lived it would be.
But he regarded the woman before him again.
“I overheard you,” she said, gazing at him as if she knew a secret. Or all of his secrets.
“Overheard me? Oh yeah?” Kendall turned to face her, entertained, no longer keeping an eye out for his car.
“When you walked in,” She said, “you said ‘business is my fucking.’?”
“Oh—yeah, well…” Kendall tilted his head once, with a glint in his eye, “it is.”
“Pity.”
“Is it?”
A car pulled up. Still not his. The woman advanced toward it and opened the back door.
“Yeah—I mean, I could’ve mediated that meeting with Angela.”
Kendall was caught off guard, sputtering, “wait—what—?”
“We were in the same MBA program at NYU. It seemed you needed a heads up.” She slid into the back seat, smiling.
“Oh did I?”
“If you want I can give you some pointers—and a ride.”
Kendall felt a jolt inside of him and he steeled himself, stepping toward the car.
“I think I’ve passed up enough opportunities for tonight,” he whispered as he got in next to her, exhilarated. “MBA from NYU—look at you. What do you do?”
“I’m getting a PhD from Columbia,” she supplied, “In business analytics and decision science this winter.”
He blinked a few times, surprised in spite of himself—and shamed that he’d stereotyped her.
“East 81st and Park,” she said to the driver.
“Your place then?” he smiled, trying to scramble for whatever suavity he could salvage.
“My friend Naomi’s actually,” she explained swiping her hair up into an elastic and sighing a little in comfort, “she’s out in Marin and I’m plantsitting for the month. Good thing, too—I don’t think she’d like you, Kendall Roy.”
She was being sarcastic as hell, but he found himself loving it.
“You never told me—“
“Tabitha.”
“Tabitha. Tabitha the Professor?”
Her eyes flashed.
“I’m sure there’s…” he paused for effect, “a lot you could teach me.”
Tabitha pursed her lips to swallow the smile, “oh—you have no idea.”