Off Limits

Chapter 9: Brunch

Sophie had picked their usual spot for brunch — a cramped, perpetually crowded café in the East Village that did the best chilaquiles in the city — and Elena arrived ten minutes early, hoping the extra time might help her settle into something resembling normal before Sophie could read anything on her face.

It didn't help nearly enough.

"Okay, spill," Sophie said, sliding into the booth across from her with the particular, delighted energy of a woman deep in wedding planning and eager for a break from color swatches. "How's the trading floor? Did that managing director Damian warned you about turn out to be as bad as he said?"

"Worse, honestly." Elena launched into the story with more animation than she felt, grateful for a topic that had nothing to do with the specific, electric memory of a hand against her jaw two nights earlier. "But your uncle's advice actually worked. I pushed back exactly the way he suggested, and it landed."

"He's good at that. Reading people, knowing exactly which lever to pull." Sophie stirred her coffee, entirely unsuspecting, and Elena felt the familiar, uncomfortable guilt settle back into her chest. "I'm so glad you two hit it off. He's been in such a good mood lately, it's honestly a little suspicious. My mom even asked if he was seeing someone."

Elena's stomach dropped, and she busied herself with her water glass to avoid whatever her face might have just done. "What did you tell her?"

"That he's probably just excited about the Tribeca deal finally closing. He's always weirdly cheerful when a project comes together." Sophie shrugged, entirely oblivious, and Elena exhaled slowly, grateful for a plausible cover story she hadn't had to construct herself. "Anyway, enough about my scary uncle. Tell me about your dating life. Are you seeing anyone? Please tell me you're not letting the job eat your entire personal life."

The question landed with brutal, unintentional precision, and Elena took a long sip of her coffee before answering, buying herself a few seconds to arrange her expression into something neutral. "Nothing serious. I've barely had time to think about it, honestly."

"You should let me set you up with someone. I know plenty of decent guys from Marcus's friend group." Sophie's tone was breezy, entirely well-meaning, and Elena felt the particular, specific misery of watching her best friend try to solve a problem that had already, quietly, resolved itself in a direction Sophie could never see coming. "Someone age-appropriate, employed, not emotionally unavailable. I have several candidates in mind."

"Maybe," Elena said, aiming for casual, and changed the subject as soon as she reasonably could, steering the conversation back toward wedding planning and safely away from anything that might require further careful navigation.

They spent the rest of brunch on comfortable, familiar ground — table linens, Sophie's mother's opinions about the guest list, the specific chaos of merging two families' expectations into a single day — and Elena let herself relax into the easy rhythm of a friendship that had carried her through business school, a painful breakup, and now an entire cross-country move. She loved Sophie fiercely, uncomplicatedly, in a way that made the growing weight of her secret feel, with every passing minute, considerably heavier than she'd expected it to.

It was walking home afterward, replaying the brunch conversation, that the full scope of what she was risking finally settled into place with uncomfortable clarity. Sophie trusted her completely — had handed her, without hesitation, access to the one family member she was closest to, certain that nothing except a helpful career mentorship could possibly come of it. Every dinner, every charged silence, every unresolved feeling Elena was carrying now existed inside a betrayal of that trust, however unintentional, however carefully contained it remained.

Her phone buzzed as she reached her building, and she felt the now-familiar leap of her pulse before she'd even checked the screen.

*Damian Cole: How was brunch? Sophie mentioned she was interrogating you about your love life. I hope you gave her a suitably boring answer.*

Elena stared at the message for a long moment, standing on her own stoop, caught between the easy warmth of wanting to answer honestly and the sharp, sudden clarity of exactly how much damage the truth could do to the person she loved most in this city.

*Suitably boring,* she typed back finally. *Though I'm starting to think "boring" might not be sustainable much longer.*

She sent it before she could second-guess the honesty of it, and stood there, phone in hand, waiting for his response with a dread and hope so evenly matched she couldn't tell which one was winning.