Zoey froze and Harry immediately realized he’d said the wrong thing. “I’m a journalist, Harry. I don’t want to work on your show. That’s almost as bad as what the other moms at the park suggested. One of them asked why I even needed to keep working at all. I’m the Harrison Beckford’s girlfriend. Shouldn’t that be enough?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. Who cares what those women think? That’s not what I think.”
“But you kind of do. You just dismissed my entire career in two sentences, Harry.”
“That’s not what I meant to do. I just want to be with you. I’m trying to think of ways to make that possible.”
Zoey stood up and crossed to the window that looked out into the backyard. It was too dark for her to see anything, but she stood there anyway, staring for at least a minute before finally turning around. “I don’t think you realize how easy it was to fall into your life. You’re amazing, you know? Your kids are amazing, and the house is amazing and it’s just all so . . .” She breathed out a sigh. “You’re everything I could ever imagine wanting for myself. Add on the glamour and the money and the red-carpet events and the attention? It’s like a fairy tale, Harry. You’re like a fairy tale.”
“And yet, you’re still leaving.”
She crossed the room and sat down beside him, reaching for his hands. “I’m afraid that if I stay, if I don’t go play out this part of my life, that one day, when I’m used to all this,” she motioned to the room around her, “I might resent you for it. That I’ll resent giving up everything in my life to live in yours.”
Harry pulled his hands away from Zoey’s grasp. The conversation felt all too familiar. It wasn’t all that long ago that his ex-wife had said something similar. It wasn’t the life she would have chosen, and she didn’t want to resent him, or the kids, for forcing her to be something she wasn’t. He scoffed and shook his head. “You sound just like Samantha.”
“Harry. That’s not fair. That’s not what’s happening here. Your kids aren’t my kids. You aren’t my husband. We’ve only been together a couple of months. It’s not the same thing.”
Maybe not. But her leaving sure felt the same. “I don’t want you to worry about the kids anymore.” Harry stood up and crossed the room, his back to Zoey. “Even if you come back after the interview. If you’re here at all, I think it’s better that you don’t see them.”
“What, like, ever? Just like that? I understand that you’ll need to find someone else to be their nanny. But I can’t even see them? I don’t leave until Tuesday morning. At least let me come stay with them on Monday.”
Harry shook his head. “It’s not a good idea. The more time you spend with them, the more it will hurt when you aren’t here anymore.”
“Okay. So forget about the job. What about us? Will you even try to make a long-distance relationship work?”
Harry shook his head. “It isn’t just about me. Don’t you get that? You’re asking to have a long-distance relationship with the entire family. I can’t do that to them. They already have a mom that lives on the other side of the country. Plus, my schedule is so carefully balanced, Zoey. I’ve fought for every evening, every weekend that I can for my kids. I can’t throw in flights to Chicago whenever I want to see you.”
“You don’t even want to wait and see what happens? I might not get the job. This is my one chance. If it doesn’t work out, there likely won’t be another opportunity like this for a long time. I could come back free and clear. We could still be together.”
Harry turned to face her. “I don’t want to be a consolation prize, Zoey. And I know how competitive you are. If you don’t get this job, you won’t stop looking for another one. I can’t risk the kids’ hearts on a might.”
“So that’s it? We’re over?”
“You tell me!” He put his hands on his hips. “I already know what I want. I want you. I realize I’m asking you to move your life across the country. It sucks that it has to be that way, but it is what it is. I have the kids. I have my show. I can’t move.” He sighed and shook his head. “I guess a part of me hoped I’d be worth the effort. Worth moving for. I hoped I’d be enough. But if it isn’t clear to you, I’m not going to pressure you into it. I already know what it feels like to have someone resent you for giving them a life they didn’t want.” He held his hands up and backed away, moving toward the kitchen. “I won’t do it again.”
Tears pooled in Zoey’s eyes and flowed down her cheeks, making Harry’s heart lurch. A part of him ached to hold her, to run to her and wrap her up in his arms. But he couldn’t do it. She’d tapped too close to the pain and rejection he’d felt during his divorce. “You know the way out,” he said softly before turning and heading to his room.
Chapter 15
Zoey pulled her keys out of her purse and moved toward the door, but then she paused. She stared at the keys in her hand. They weren’t really her keys, were they? Even the car she’d been driving the past couple of months belonged to him.
Zoey dropped the keys onto the entryway table and slipped out the door.
It took half an hour to walk back to Nana’s house. She’d thought about calling an Uber a time or two, but the walking seemed to help her process what had just happened, so she’d pushed on.
Breaking up was not what she had expected when she’d driven to Harry’s. She’d expected him to understand. To support her need to live her own life, to pursue her dreams. Was it his celebrity that made him so selfish? That made him expect her to just fall in with his carefully crafted existence? He’d made himself clear though. She wasn’t worth a flight to Chicago. She worked herself into his life, or they couldn’t be together.
So fine.
They wouldn’t be.
Pain gripped at Zoey’s heart as the realization pounded through her brain.
They wouldn’t be together. But that didn’t mean she cared about him any less.
As Zoey approached Nana’s front door, she wiped away her lingering tears and willed her emotions into order. Her mother was right inside; she was the last person Zoey wanted to talk to about Harrison. Sadly, Zoey didn’t much want to talk to Nana about him either. She wouldn’t understand at all and would absolutely try and convince Zoey to give up on Chicago and make a career for herself in L.A.. Nana was very persuasive. A conversation with her wasn’t a risk Zoey could take.
As much as her heart hurt, as much as she longed for a way to make her relationship with Harry work, she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t at least try for the Channel 4 job. She’d worked too hard, put in too many hours to walk away.
Both women were still up when Zoey let herself into the house, despite the late hour. Nana looked like she was dozing in her chair; Zoey’s mom sat on the couch beside her, her legs curled up under her and her iPad in her lap. Zoey dropped into the chair across from her, grateful for the dim lighting. If she stayed in the shadows her mother might not notice she’d been crying. Still, could she avoid conversation for three more days? Her flight wasn’t supposed to leave until Tuesday morning, but truly, what would she do if she stayed in California? Just sit around and miss Harry, probably.
“Hi,” her mother said, her voice low. “You okay?”
Zoey nodded. “Yeah. Just tired.”
“How’s the boyfriend?” her mother said, her voice all sing-songy and happy.
“Fine, I guess.”
“I bet he’s going to miss you when you’re back in Chicago. I was just thinking it’s a good thing he’s got the money to handle all the traveling back and forth. And he’ll obviously pay for your flights too—”
“Mom.” Zoey kept her voice calm. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have with her mother, but it was better than letting her go on and on about a relationship that didn’t exist anymore.
“What?” her mother said, her tone impatient.
“We broke up. He doesn’t want a long-distance relationship. He said it would be too hard on the kids.”
H
er mother’s face fell. “Then why are you leaving?”
Zoey stood up and moved toward her bedroom. “I’m not going to try and explain it to you, Mom. I know you won’t get it.”
“Try me,” her mother said, following behind her. “Don’t assume, Zoey. That’s not fair to me.”
“I want this job, Mom,” Zoey said, spinning around to face her. “What else do you want me to say? I love Harry, but this is what I’ve been working for. I can’t give it up. Even for a man as wonderful as he is.”
Her mother frowned. “A man like him might not come along again.”
A man like him would never come along again. And a not-so-tiny part of Zoey worried that she was walking away from something better than anything she’d ever find again. But she bristled at the idea that it had to be all or nothing. And that idea was enough to compel her competitive heart right back to Chicago where she’d earn her way on her own merits, and not just because someone who’d already made his way decided to include her in his life.
“I know, Mom. I know.” Zoey looked back over her mother’s shoulder into the living room. “Can you help Nana get to bed tonight? I’m going to go to bed.”
Her mother followed her gaze, nodding. “Of course,” she said, though she still followed Zoey into her bedroom. She stood in the doorway, her iPad clutched to her chest.
Zoey pulled her phone out of her purse, plugging it in on the nightstand before dropping onto the bed.
“I’ve been watching old news clips,” her mother said. She swallowed, her eyes trained on the floor. “Clips of you.”
Zoey stilled. “Why?”
Her mom took a deep breath. “I know you think I don’t care, Zoey. Mom told me you said—” She sniffed and ran her hand across her cheeks.
Was she crying? A pang of emotion pricked Zoey’s chest.
“I’m proud of you,” her mom continued. “So proud. I told my friends all the time they had to watch Channel 11 because you would give them the news straight. Of course I want you to get married. I’m not going to lie about that. You’re pushing thirty, Zoey. It’s time to get serious about this.”
Zoey held up her hands; she really wasn’t up for the pushing thirty narrative.
“Just let me finish,” Mom said. “Having said that—and I only say it because I love you—I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like your career wasn’t important. I just want you to be happy. Whatever makes you that way, that’s what I want.”
“But you still think I should stay in California to be with Harry.”
Her mother stretched her lips into a tight line. “I want you to do whatever is going to make you happy.”
Zoey would give her mom props for trying, but what she really thought was written all over her face. Too tired to argue, Zoey hugged her mom, promised her that she wasn’t mad and that she’d stop avoiding her phone calls, then settled onto her bed, wishing she could turn off her brain.
She kept reliving her conversation with Harry over and over again. That he had so quickly suggested that she walk away from her career and just work with him on his show stung worst of all. Did no one value what she’d built for herself? Did no one want her to maximize her own potential?
Zoey turned on her laptop and pulled up the flight information for her trip back to Chicago, suddenly feeling like she couldn’t get out of L.A. fast enough. She clicked through a few options then stared at the screen, weighing her decision.
Eighty bucks to change her flight from the following Tuesday to tomorrow morning?
Totally worth it.
Zoey had sublet her apartment when she’d left Chicago. One of her former coworkers at the station was married to a real estate agent who managed short term rentals and had quickly found someone to lease the space for a couple of months. Fortuitously, when she landed back in Chicago, her space had just been vacated. It had only taken a quick text to ask the realtor to leave it empty for her. She’d never been so happy to enter her own apartment. She’d expected it to still have tenants, which would have left her living in a hotel.
Before leaving the city at the end of the summer, she’d turned the guest bedroom of her apartment into an “owner’s closet,” locking in all of her work clothes and personal belongings that she didn’t take with her to California into the space. A wardrobe rack next to the window held most of her work clothes. She riffled through them, wondering which would work best for her interview.
Her hand stopped on a red, cropped jacket she’d often paired with her favorite black pencil skirt. She pulled it out, then slammed it back onto the rack with an eye roll. Would she ever escape her mother’s opinions? She reached for a high-necked, sleeveless royal blue dress with wide, white bands trimming either side of the dress, from armpit to hem like racing stripes. The dress made her feel like a million bucks. She told herself she would have picked it even without her mother’s unsolicited commentary, but Zoey wasn’t so sure. As gentle as her mother’s voice was, it was still just. so. loud.
Zoey carried the dress back to her bedroom, hanging it in her mostly empty closet. She had a lot more space in her Chicago apartment than she’d had in Nana’s tiny front bedroom, but she missed the efficiency of the shelves Harry had installed.
She also missed Harry. Even though it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since she’d seen him last, the emotional distance between them made everything that much more painful. She pulled her phone out of her purse and stared at the screen. Should she text him? Let him know she’d left earlier than she’d planned?
She couldn’t think of a reason why he’d care. He’d already told her he didn’t need her help with the kids anymore.
Still. She’d left the state. She owed him a text at least, didn’t she?
Hi. Just wanted you to know I’m already in Chicago. I miss you. I love you. Please don’t give up on me.
No, no, no, no, no. Zoey deleted the message and tried again.
Just wanted you to know I’m in Chicago already. Good luck with your filming in Portland.
Too impersonal? Why did it have to be so hard? She deleted one more time.
I’m sorry things ended the way they did. I’m in Chicago. I already miss you.
Too much? Maybe, but Zoey couldn’t think about it anymore, so she sent the text and tossed her phone onto the bed behind her.
Three minutes later, three hours later, even three days later when Zoey was finished with her interview and out to drinks with the Channel 4 producers who had all but explicitly promised her the evening anchor position, all she could think about was the fact that Harry had never texted back.
She ran into Veronica Darling on her way out of the restaurant.
“Zoey!” Veronica said, rushing up to her. She air-kissed either side of Zoey’s face then leaned back, a huge smile across her face. “I heard you were in town. You’re going for the Channel 4 anchor job, right?”
Zoey eyed her curiously. Veronica seemed surprisingly nonchalant about the possibility of Zoey getting the job. “Yes. But, aren’t you, also?”
Veronica shook her head. “Not anymore. Phil got a job offer that’s too amazing to pass up. We’re moving in a couple of weeks.”
“Oh,” Zoey said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. She had no idea who Phil actually was. “Um, Phil?”
“What? Oh. I guess it’s been a while since we’ve talked. Phil is my fiancé.” She held out her hand, flashing a rock the size of New Jersey.
“Wow. Congratulations.”
“We met at a coffee shop,” Veronica said. “It was totally cheesy and romantic and blah, blah, blah, here we are six months later.”
“I mean, that’s amazing. And now you’re moving?”
“Crazy, right? We’ll be back next summer for the wedding. But we’re going to Miami, of all places. Can you believe it? I’m so excited to be somewhere warm. And I’ve already reached out to a few stations and have some interviews lined up. I mean, I won’t get an anchor position, not right away, but honestly, I’ll cover Friday night
high school football if it means I can spend my mornings lounging on the beach. And the job is so great for Phil. We’re really excited.”
“That’s great,” Zoey said. “Truly. A shame about the anchor job here, though.”
Veronica shrugged dismissively. “I’m not worried about it. Now that you’re back in town, they’re going to give it to you anyway.”
“I’m happy for you,” Zoey said. “I hope you love Miami. I guess I’ll think about you in December when it’s five degrees here.”
Veronica laughed. “Or just come see me. I will not miss Chicago winters, that’s for sure.”
Zoey said goodbye and caught a cab home. She usually pulled out her phone the second her butt landed in a cab just to keep herself occupied enough that the driver never felt like starting a conversation. But tonight she left her phone in her bag. She stared out the window, watching as the city flew past her window.
Veronica made it seem so easy. Even though she’d been working, building her career for years, it didn’t even seem like she’d hesitated to give it all up for her fiancé’s work. Well, and for seventy-degree Decembers.
“You okay?” her cab driver asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.
“Hmm?” Zoey asked.
“You look . . . pensive. Contemplative,” he said. “Just asking if you’re okay.”
“Oh. Yes. Thank you.”
“You’re that lady on the news, right? Channel 12?”
Heat warmed Zoey’s cheeks. It had been a while since anyone had recognized her. “Yes. I mean, not anymore. I’m still on the news. Just a different station.”
“Big job, handling the news like you do. You ever meet anyone famous?”
Zoey smiled. “Sometimes. I interviewed Michael Jordan once.”
“No kidding? Nice guy?”
She nodded. “Very. What about you? You ever pick up anyone famous?”
“A few times. You know the guy that wrote Hamilton? He rode in my cab. And I drove President Obama once, back before he was President.”
Hooking a Handyman Page 13
