“Ah… no, I don’t have experience cleaning in this sort of environment. But I am a quick learner, and a very loyal worker, and I will do everything in my power to show you that, on the job.”

The woman across the table from me pursed her lips, glancing down at my resume again. Her hair was in a tight, perfect bun, and her nails painted a shimmery nude. “Mr. Crane, you do realize that detailed cleaning in a museum of our caliber is very different from cleaning hotel rooms, correct? Any amount of dust on any of our pieces could ruin their value very quickly. And the precision with which they need to be handled cannot be stressed enough.”

“Of course,” I said. “I used to be very active in the art world—I was a painter, myself—and I had many friends who worked as restoration technicians in museums across down. I knew a few who were museum housekeeping staff, as well.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Well, that’s helpful. Do you have any references who we could call?”

I paused. This was the part I’d been dreading, ever since I’d applied to jobs in a frenzy, the day I quit the hotel.

“Ah… unfortunately, I do not. Most of my connections from the art world have moved on. But I’m willing to work a day as a trial, to show you the care I take in my work.”

I knew it sounded bad, and when I saw the sour look on her face, I knew I was blowing it. References had always been my weak spot in interviews, and it wasn’t as if I could ask anyone at the Terrance Hotel for one now. Even Grace probably thought I was unfathomably rude for leaving without any notice.

In another ten minutes, the museum interviewer had wrapped up the interview. She made sure to tell me about the “large number of applicants” that the position had, which seemed to seal the deal that I would never get the job.

I walked home, kicking the leaves in front of me as I went. The sky was grey and most of the leaves had fallen, at this point; it looked like it could snow outside, but I was sure it wouldn’t. Snow would be too pretty for a day this bad.

It had been three days since I’d left the hotel, and with each passing day I regretted the decision more and more. It had been a moment of pride, but if I had stayed and just let myself hang around until the layoffs, I likely could have gotten a handsome severance package.

But even six months of guaranteed money hadn’t seemed like a good enough deal if it meant having to be around Adrian every day. When I thought of him my stomach turned, and so I’d been doing everything I could to keep him out of my mind. I missed him, of course. I felt like I had a huge, empty hole in my heart, and I was even lonelier now than before he’d come back to town.

But there was no point thinking of any of that.

When I got to the front stoop of my apartment building, I found Sean sitting there, looking up at me. I stopped in front of him and he smiled up at me, waving. He had two paper coffee cups next to him and he lifted one up toward me.

“Latte? Got it with extra foam, just for you,” he said. “Might be a little less than hot, now.”

“Sean, you’re too nice,” I said, sitting down next to him and taking the cup. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Only about twenty minutes. I thought you’d be home, but Vanessa told me you were out.”

“You didn’t want to wait inside with her?”

Sean made a face. “She was airbrushing some sort of pottery in there, and it smells like spray paint. I told her I’d wait outside.”

I rolled my eyes. “I told her not to do that in there.”

I sipped my latte, and even the lukewarm coffee felt comforting in the cold air.

“Heard you called it quits at the hotel,” Sean said gently.

“Vanessa tell you?”

He shook his head. “Adrian called me up a couple days ago saying his best housekeeping guy quit. I knew that had to be you.”

“Oh,” I said. “He said that? Really?”

Sean nodded. “Josh, what the hell happened?”

“Adrian didn’t tell you about the layoffs?”

“He mentioned that’s why you left. I had no idea about that. But… the hotel gives incredible severance packages to people, why’d you quit?”

I let out a long sigh. Sean still had no idea that I’d been hooking up with his brother, that I had a past with his brother at all. I was usually nothing but honest with him, but I didn’t know what to say. I was certain that Adrian hadn’t mentioned a word about the photographs to him.

“I’ve had… a lot going on in my life lately,” I said. “And… well, on the same day I found out about the layoffs, I broke things off with the guy I was seeing.”

“Oh, no,” Sean said. “I wanted to meet him.”

I shook my head.

“What happened?” Sean asked.

I barely knew how to respond. “I… had some of the best moments in recent memory with him over the past couple months. Even just moments when we were talking, sharing stories, shooting the shit… it could be so good. I felt right around him, in a way I don’t feel with almost anyone. But then there were an equal amount of times that he’d be cold. He’d be unavailable. And this week, I realized that he was probably always going to choose… other things over me.”

“Was he seeing other guys? Josh, you always go for the unavailable ones.”

I shook my head. “Not other guys. Another woman, for a while, but it fizzled out. But he was always going to choose his pride over me, his career over me. He didn’t want to be seen with me.”

“Wow,” Sean said.

“Yeah, it was fucked up. And I shouldn’t have been with him in the first place.”

“Hey,” Sean said. “Go easy on yourself. It sounded like he really meant something to you. Y’know, despite the shittiness.”

“He did, in a lot of ways,” I said. “In our best moments… God, it felt like I could fall in love with him. But he can’t do it.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sean said, leaning over against me and giving me a side-hug.

“I know you’re right,” I said, “that I always fall for unavailable guys. But… I really thought I could see him grow into himself.”

“You know what you need to do?” Sean asked, his voice perking up.

“What’s that? And God, please don’t recommend Tinder to me—the last thing I need is that rat race—”

“No, no, not dating,” Sean said, waving a hand. “Fuck that. You’re nowhere near that. But you do need distraction.”

“I’m listening….”

“I have to go to this big, boring retirement party for my parents on Friday. But after that, let’s go to the bars. Just you and me, no one else, no trying to hook up or anything stupid. We can play pool or pinball and cream everybody else in the place. How’s that sound?”

I laughed softly. “That actually does sound amazing,” I said. “Y’know, it’s nice having a friend take pity on you, sometimes.”

“I’ll give you all the pity you need, friend,” Sean said. “I hate seeing you like this. And whoever that guy was… he has no clue what he gave up.”

“Thanks, Sean.”

“Meet me outside the hotel on Friday night, around nine?” Sean asked. “You don’t have to go inside—trust me. I just want the excuse to leave early.”

I felt a little nervousness bubbling up in me at the thought of even being on the same street as the hotel again. But I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever.

“I’ll be there,” I said. “Just don’t make me wait too long, okay?”

“Not a chance,” he said.