"Maybe it was none of my business, but knowing something like this makes it easier for me to respond to people like George. I didn't like being surprised."
She let out a long sigh. "I guess I can see that from your point of view." She looked at her watch and then dropped her hand. She looked exhausted. "I guess I'll go to my room and watch a New Year's Eve show on TV."
Now I felt like a jerk because we could have had a good time at the party and I'd taken that from her.
She made a U-turn and headed toward the kitchen. "I have a bottle of champagne. I'll just take it to my room."
"You're so mad at me that you won't let me watch a New Year's TV show and drink champagne with you?" I smiled, hoping it was charming or at the very least disarming.
It must've worked because her features softened. "I guess that would be all right."
A few minutes later, we were sitting on the couch with flutes of champagne, watching music and comedians standing in the cold of New York. I was still in my tux, but my tie and the top button of my shirt were undone.
Reyna sat next to me, still in the pretty gold dress. She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet underneath her, which tilted her body toward mine until our shoulders were touching. It was nice. It worried me how nice it was.
Two minutes out from New Year's Day, she dropped her head on my shoulder. "Do you make New Year's resolutions?"
"No."
"You don’t see January first as a new start? A clean slate?"
I shook my head. "No. That's not to say I don't have goals because I do. I just don't set them at the beginning of the year."
She was quiet for a moment, and I looked down at her wondering if maybe she'd fallen asleep. Her gaze was on the TV, but I got the impression that she wasn't really watching it.
"Do you have resolutions?" I asked.
"My New Year's resolution is to figure out who I am and what I want to do with my life."
In some ways, her comment surprised me. I would've thought she would say something like figure out how to get through the next year with me or how she was going to spend the money I was giving her.
There was a sadness to her tone that had me putting my arm around her and tugging her close. "You have the time and space to do that. I'm no career guidance expert or shrink, but it's possible that you're trying too hard. Maybe you need to use this year to explore different interests and not try to figure it all out right now."
She tilted her face up to me. "Even if you’re not an expert or shrink, I think that's probably pretty good advice. I really don't know where to start, though."
"Maybe you need to look at the adult education resources or at a college catalog and see what sorts of activities or courses speak to you. Now that you have some time, what are things that you want to do?"
"I suppose the only thing that really stands out right now is making George Keyes miserable. It’s probably wrong, but I enjoy that."
My grin was fast. "Oh, yeah?"
"He's a jerk."
"I agree. A few minutes ago, you thought I was a jerk too."
"You can sometimes do things that are jerk-like, but you're not a jerk. He's a jerk. Down to his soul. A part of me wants to send something to his wife so she knows that he's a jerk too."
"We have a year to deal with him, assuming he and the board don't fire me beforehand. It's barely been a week. Do you think you'll be able to make it through the year?" I held my breath, wondering about her answer. Things were smoothed over now, but she could decide that I wasn’t worth all the angst.
She held an amused smile. "I'm not the one having problems here."
I feigned shock. "What are you talking about? I'm not having a difficult time."
She shook her head. "You get your boxers in a bunch over the littlest things."
I thought about telling her that learning she was engaged to another man just a few weeks before marrying me was a reason to get my boxers in a bunch. But it was time for levity if I could manage it. "You take that back about my boxers."
She laughed. "I will not, Mr. Fussy Pants."