by Olivia Miles
“I might be able to meet for coffee this weekend,” Heather said, telling herself that, yes, she could do this, she should do this, even if it was just so she wouldn’t regret it.
“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come to the lake house with me this weekend.”
“The lake house?” Once it had been an annual summer getaway, a place where she and her sisters and mother would spend the entire season, their father coming up on the weekends when time away from work permitted. It was a place of sunshine and laughter and freedom, of long days that stretched ahead as if they would never end. It was a time when the entire world felt small and big all at once, when they weren’t bogged down by school or routine, where they could get away from all of that.
Where they could escape.
“I know it’s short notice and you might not be able to get away from work,” Kim said. “But I was thinking of how much Mom used to love it there, how we all did, and we didn’t make it back last August…and she wanted to. We promised her we would.”
And they hadn’t been able to keep that promise. Instead, they’d spent that time saying goodbye. Nearly a year had passed. It was a date that Heather had not circled on her calendar, but she knew it. Tried to forget it sometimes.
It was already August. August was the month when even as adults they would go to Evening Island, for a week, or sometimes only a weekend in Andrea’s case, as life’s responsibilities took away the carefree days of their youth.
Only now Heather didn’t have any responsibilities, and she didn’t have an excuse either. Besides, she wanted to go. Not just for the house, or the view of the water and the long days that drifted into longer evenings, with the sweet smell of flowers and the soft hum of crickets, but for the chance to be away from it all, to step outside her life and all its sorrow for a moment. But more than anything, she yearned to return to a time and a place where she was still happy. To once again feel like everything was possible.
“I’m going for two weeks. It’s a long time, but I don’t know when I’ll get back,” Kim was saying.
“It would be a nice way to honor Mom,” Heather said, realizing with a start that somehow she’d lived an entire year that her mother hadn’t; that her mother didn’t know anything that had transpired in these past twelve months.
That, perhaps, was the only blessing.
“So…you’ll come?” Kim’s smile was evident in her voice.
Heather pulled in a breath, hoping she wouldn’t live to regret her next words. “I’ll come.”
“Woohoo!” Kim squealed so loudly that Heather had to hold the phone away from her ear, but she was smiling now, her spirits lifted.
She listened to Kim’s excited chatter as she walked over to the calendar and circled this Saturday. Then, surprising even herself, she turned it into a happy face.
She was going back to the lake house. For at least a little while, everything would be okay.
3
Andrea
There are good days and bad days. That’s what Andrea Taylor tried to tell herself as she sat across the desk from her boss of the past ten years, trying to control her facial features while Pamela explained that she had lost the proposal for the Glenwood Lane project.
Andrea pulled in a deep breath and released it slowly, reminding herself that this was just part of business. Nothing personal. But it felt personal because her job, especially this past year, was her life.
“I’m happy to tweak the design to better fit their vision,” she said, hoping that she didn’t sound too desperate. The Glenwood project was a big one—it would have been her biggest yet. A ground-up project on waterfront property in one of the most coveted Chicago suburbs. It was a dream project for any architect—one that would likely hit all the trade magazines, and probably some local glossies too.
It was also, Andrea thought, the project that was going to guarantee her partnership in the firm.
“Did they list any specific concerns?” she pressed, thinking that surely, this could be remedied. She’d worked within their parameters and added her own creative touches as well, utilizing the landscape and the view, taking into account the lighting and practical everyday living.
“They didn’t feel that your design had…heart.” Pamela grimaced across the desk, and Andrea knew that this time there was no hiding her shock.
That stung. And that…well, that wasn’t an easy fix.
“Obviously the timing is not ideal,” Pamela said delicately, and the two women exchanged a glance that spoke a hundred words and then some. Pamela wasn’t just a boss, she was a friend, and as a partner of the architecture firm, she’d been Andrea’s mentor and advocate for years. It was Pamela who had nominated her for the upcoming seat, but the decision would rest with Arthur, the president of the company.
There was a tap on the door. Nicole, Andrea’s assistant, stood in the doorway looking worried. She winced when she saw Andrea’s expression. “I suppose now isn’t a good time to tell you that your sister is on line two?”
Andrea thought about this for a second. “Which sister?” Her money was on Kim, who had more reason to call and was probably wondering when they could schedule another fitting for those pink—make that blush—bridesmaid gowns.
“Kim.” Nicole gave a knowing smile.
Kim was prone to calling when Andrea was at work, despite Andrea nearly always waiting until she’d left for the night to call her back (unless she’d stayed past eleven or fell asleep on the sofa across from her desk, which wasn’t uncommon these days).
“I’ll call her back after work.”
Nicole nodded but showed no signs of leaving. She chewed her lower lip, wringing her hands in front of her pencil skirt. “And Arthur wants to see you.”
Andrea’s gaze flicked to Pamela, who was already standing. “Does he know?”
“I didn’t tell him, but news travels fast around here. Especially if they’ve already nabbed a competitor.”
Andrea closed her eyes. Yep, this was definitely turning out to be a bad day.
Already regretting not taking the call from Kim if only to buy time, she took a steadying sip of her coffee and pushed back her chair, walking with Pamela in silence until they reached Pamela’s office.
Her boss gave her a smile of encouragement. “Flag me when you’re out. Lunch?”
Andrea nodded. She’d need a break from the office after this.
She formulated her plan as she walked to the end of the hallway on shaking legs. She would just tell Arthur that now she’d have more time for rainmaking—the Glenwood project would probably take years to complete. Sure, it was lost prestige, but it wouldn’t be lost revenue if she could help it.
Feeling better—almost—she gave a smile she didn’t feel to Arthur’s assistant who guarded his phone and his door with an air of authority.
“He’s expecting you,” Trisha said, giving Andrea a long stare over the rim of her glasses.
“Great,” Andrea said a little breathlessly. Just great. The last time Arthur wanted to see her out of the blue was to tell her she was in line for partner, along with Jace, the boy wonder who had started at the firm only two years ago to her ten but had managed to bring in some big clients along the way.
She tried not to think about Jace right now, not his infuriating smirk, not the fact that she had put in the hours, the sweat, and even, sometimes, though she’d never admit it, the tears to get where she was, and she wasn’t going to give up that partnership without a fight.
She also tried not to think about the fact that, probably like half the unmarried women in this office, she couldn’t deny that there was something about him, something appealing, something charismatic, that made her look at him a little longer than she wanted to in their weekly meetings. She knew even Pamela was nursing a crush even though Jace was several years younger than her; the two women laughed about it regularly.
Arthur was sitting at his desk when she opened the door, a wall of windows behind him, revealing
a sweeping view of Millennium Park and Lake Michigan, unlike her view of crowded, neighboring office buildings which she’d tried to convince herself was fascinating from an architectural standpoint.
“You asked to see me?” Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe it was about the partnership. Maybe he had a client dinner and he wanted to ask for some restaurant ideas; it wouldn’t be the first time.
But from the set of his jaw and his glance up from his paperwork, she knew that it was none of those things.
“Heard you lost the Glenwood project.” It wasn’t a question, but a fact.
“I’m not giving up on it so easily,” she said, settling into the chair opposite his desk. “I’ll circle back with the clients tomorrow, see if we can work something out.” She could lower her fee, temporarily. It wasn’t ideal, but it was something.
But Arthur was shaking his head. “They already went with another architect.”
Andrea swallowed hard. That was quick. “Do we know who?”
“Jace,” Arthur said.
Andrea felt like she had been kicked in the chest. She cleared her throat, trying to hide her shock. “I didn’t even know that Jace was in the running.”
“Part of our regular Sunday teeoff,” Arthur said casually, referring to his weekly golf game. “I know you don’t play.”
No, she didn’t, but she could have learned. Besides, she’d never been asked.
So this was what it was. A regular boys’ club. She’d been set up, positioned all along to take the fall, or maybe, Jace had just been better positioned to slide right in at the first opportunity.
“It’s still a win for the firm.” Arthur’s look told her that she should be happy too.
She wasn’t. With Jace now landing Glenwood, her chances of making partner were slipping through her hands. The announcement was set to come next month. End of the quarter.
She licked her bottom lip. She’d just have to work extra hard between now and then to make up for the loss. She could do it if she set her mind to it. She’d get out, network. She’d go back to her desk right after this and start calling everyone on her contacts list. Set up some drinks and dinners. It was all about connections.
Arthur began shuffling papers on his desk to signal that the meeting was over. Andrea inched to the door, but she kept her shoulders back, her chin high as she walked back out into the hall, past the rows of administrative desks, toward Pamela’s office, counting down the seconds until she could close the door behind her.
Pamela took one look at her and said, “Wait until we’re outside.” She stood and lifted her handbag from its hook on her coat rack. Ten minutes later they were seated across a small bistro table at their usual lunch spot, salads ordered, sparkling water served.
“Jace got the project.”
Pamela couldn’t disguise her surprise. “Jace? I didn’t know he was pitching anything.”
“Seems like Arthur facilitated that,” Andrea said a little bitterly. “Introduced them through a golf game.”
Pamela sighed. “There were many architects on the shortlist.”
Andrea knew this was true, she just hadn’t expected one to be from in-house, and her biggest personal competition, either.
Pamela was tapping around on her phone. “Give me a minute. I want to see what he came up with. I bet I can have—yep. There it is.” She went silent for a moment while she studied her screen and then, while Andrea’s stomach heaved with dread, turned to show her the design.
It was beautiful. There was no denying that. Every detail had been thought out, making the most of the view while allowing for privacy and tapping into the clients’ New England roots.
Andrea now felt like she might cry. But Pamela was still her boss. She sipped her water instead.
“I could have come up with that if I had more time,” she insisted, hoping to convince herself. “I have nearly twice as many clients at the moment as Jace.”
“And you put in more hours than most people in the firm,” Pamela added. “You’re a hard worker, Andrea. Probably the hardest in this entire firm.”
Andrea sat a little straighter, uncertain if this was a compliment.
“Mistakes happen when you get sloppy and tired. When you’re spread too thin.” Pamela gave her a pointed look, and Andrea fought back the urge to refute that statement, wanting to say that it didn’t apply to her, even if maybe it did. “When was the last time you took time off?”
She didn’t need to think about it. It was last August, for her mother’s funeral. “About a year ago.”
Pamela nodded. She didn’t need to think about it either. She’d been supportive, understanding, having lost her own mother a few years earlier.
“It’s been a tough year, Andrea.”
“That’s not why I didn’t win the account,” Andrea said firmly.
Pamela gave a small sigh and set her phone back in her bag. “Maybe it would do you some good to slow down a bit.”
“Right before the partnership is announced?” Andrea almost laughed, but the tenderness in Pamela’s eyes made her want to cry again. Damn it.
“Refill your creative well. Get out of town. See new things. Remember why you’re doing this. Why you want to make partner.” Pamela tipped her head. “Two weeks.” And then, before Andrea could protest, she added, “And that’s an order.”
She couldn’t be serious. Two weeks off in August, when the partnership would be announced next month? When Jace had just landed a tony client?
“I’ll take two weeks off in October,” Andrea said. She might really need it by then. “I still have the Morrison house to pitch in September. If I get that…” She had to get it. It wasn’t an option now.
But Pamela shook her head. “Trust me. Everyone needs to recharge once in a while. Even you. Especially you.”
There was no sense in arguing, Andrea knew. It was, as Pamela had said, an order.
She nodded, not trusting herself with words. “Okay.”
They ate their salads while discussing that project, but Andrea was unnerved, even uncomfortable. Idly, she wondered if she could slip into the office after hours. She knew from all her late nights and weekends that she was usually the only person there—others had families or social lives. But then, Pamela was her boss, and she respected her. And it was an order.
She could work from home, but there were strict rules about what files were allowed to be removed from the office… By the time she returned to the office and approached Nicole’s desk, Andrea couldn’t keep the smile up anymore, and Nicole looked at her with understandable trepidation.
“Have you taken lunch yet, Nicole?” she asked her assistant, knowing that the answer. Nicole knew who she worked for. She didn’t take a break until the job was complete, just like Andrea.
Nicole shook her head, looking startled.
“You fly, I’ll buy,” Andrea said, stepping into her office to pull her wallet from her bag. She handed Nicole, who had followed her in, a few bills. “Get yourself whatever you want. All I need is a latte.”
“And maybe one of those oatmeal cookies that you like?” Nicole gave her a little smile.
Andrea felt her shoulders sink. Nicole understood, without having to say it. She also knew that they were both still employed. For now. “Grab two. For both of us.”
Nicole seemed almost tearful with relief as she took the money and hurried out the door, knowing without being asked to close it behind her.
Andrea sank into her chair, her mind spinning, trying to figure out what she was supposed to tell people, how she was supposed to find a way to make partner, and what on earth she would do with herself for two straight weeks. She didn’t do idle well. The evenings were tricky enough, which was why she spent more and more time at the office, or the gym after the office, or sometimes the gym in between a return trip to the office. Here she could be productive. Here she could keep her mind busy. Whereas at home…
There was a sticky note on her computer monitor. A note to call back Kim, today
, if possible. Normally, Andrea saved personal calls for those evenings when she was home, and alone, trying to deny her loneliness with the assistance of television, even though she usually just flicked through the channels without ever settling on one.
But now seemed as good a time as any, because until she had stopped shaking, until she had finally processed everything that had occurred this morning, she wasn’t going to be productive at all. And wasn’t that what Pamela was implying?
She pursed her lips and picked up her cell phone, only half-surprised that Kim answered after the first ring. She loved any opportunity to discuss her wedding these days, even if she had grown a bit quiet about it lately. Or maybe it was that Andrea hadn’t taken as many of her calls. But just like Kim couldn’t understand why Andrea loved her career, the challenge of being busy, the thrill of working toward a goal, Andrea couldn’t understand why Kim was rushing into marriage with a man she hadn’t even known for a year.
“You called!” Kim sounded so happy to hear from her that Andrea felt a wash of shame. As the eldest of the sisters, she’d always taken a special shining to Kim, or Kimmy as she’d always called her. She could still picture the round-cheeked little girl who loved dress-up clothes and playing house, while Andrea was content to read a book to pass the time. Playing wedding had always been her favorite.
She’d make a beautiful bride, Andrea knew. She just didn’t know why she couldn’t wait a bit longer, establish her own life first.
Still, she kept all these thoughts to herself. Now wasn’t the time to put Kim on the defense, not when Andrea’s life choices hardly made her the poster child of success. Kim seemed happy enough—ecstatic, really—and Bran had been perfectly warm and pleasant the few times she’d met him, which had been brief, and only twice, come to think of it. There had been the time at Christmas, and then later in the spring, to celebrate the engagement.
“What’s new?” she asked, hoping for once that Kim would share all her plans for the wedding so that Andrea wouldn’t have to talk about her job, because it was the only thing Andrea ever talked about. The only thing in her life to share.
