by Lisa Lace
There’s a knock at the door. I frown. “I haven’t ordered anything.”
“Maybe they’re checking the alarms or something.”
“Well, it better not be the people downstairs. I’m not even using the turntable.”
I stand up and go to the door. I open it and scan the corridor, left and right. There is nobody there. Only a package. Tall, thin, and wrapped in brown paper.
“Hey Chloe, come here!”
Chloe appears at my side and follows my gaze. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know. Will you help me bring it in?”
We each take a side of the delivery and carry it across the threshold. It’s light but large and rectangular. Although it’s wrapped in paper, I recognize the feel of the contents at once: canvas.
“Who’s it from?” Chloe asks.
I scan the package to find a sender. All I see is a little note taped to one side. “Love, Ethan” reads the simple message.
“It’s from Ethan.”
My heart is in my mouth. It’s been a month since I’ve heard from him, and now this. I wonder what he’s sent me. I think of Vincent and all the art that he flew to Arizona. Is Ethan doing the same thing? Flashing his money to make me swoon?
“Open it!” Chloe urges me. “Let’s see what it is.”
I tear the paper from the tape and gently pull it back. As the image underneath emerges, tears spring to my eyes, and a happy, nostalgic joy sweeps over me. My stomach fills with butterflies.
When the paper is all ripped away, Chloe helps me turn the canvas to its upright position and lean it against the wall. “Oh, Lily. That’s beautiful. Who do you think painted it?”
I know the answer. I’m laughing from happiness as I reply, “He did.”
My eyes take in every inch of the portrait. It’s a young girl in a floating white dress, standing by a window, one hand resting on the sill. She looks outside, the wind lifting her blonde hair a little, her face lit up by the sun streaming in. She has a smile on her face, and her painted eyes are sparkling with dreams.
I cover my mouth with my hands. “It’s Ethan’s portrait.”
“What portrait?”
I laugh as I answer. I’m crying, but they’re happy tears. “Ethan tried to paint this picture a hundred times. He said he could never get it right. Look at what he’s been doing.”
I trace my finger over the oils, rough beneath my fingertips. The portrait is painted in muted, pastel colors with heavy, urgent brushstrokes—except for the brightness of the smile, caught in the light.
“He said this is how he would always remember me.”
Chloe stares at the picture and smiles. “It’s you, Lily. It’s so you.”
“Do you think he’s still here?”
I dash through the apartment door, look up and down the corridor again, and race down to the lobby. When I don’t find Ethan there, I stand out on the street, scanning the road up and down, trying to spot him.
He’s gone.
Slowly, I walk back upstairs to my apartment. Chloe is in my living room, clutching the windowsill and staring at the sidewalk. She turns around when she hears me enter. “It was probably delivered by someone else anyway.”
“Probably.” I return to my apartment door and stare at the portrait.
Chloe comes to stand beside me. “Does this change things?”
I smile. “Yes. It does.”
Ethan
“You haven’t told us about the proposal, Ethan. Tell us—did we win the defense contract?”
Here it is, the moment I knew was coming. I stand at the head of the board table, my team sitting in front of me, eyes raised, waiting intensely for my reply. I lower my head and place my hands flat on the edges of the table.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you all did a fantastic job working toward the defense contract, but I’m sorry to say that we haven’t been successful.”
My Head of Development, Mitchell, is horrified. He stares at me with wide, angry eyes. “How can that be? We were miles ahead of anything that Oswald Solutions can offer. We worked for months on those prototypes. They were flawless.”
“The proposal covered everything,” Elaine, my Head of Communications, chimes in. “The research was all there; the figures were right. I don’t know how anybody in their right minds could turn us down. Our standards were far above anything else on the market. How could this happen?”
I pause and take a moment to glance at each shocked face. Some of my team look angry; others, heartbroken. All of them are confused. Thousands of hours have been spent creating something that has gone nowhere. My team were proud of all they’d done, and it had all come to nothing. Because of me.
“I have to be honest with you all,” I tell them. “We weren’t rejected by the Department of Defense. I withdrew our bid.”
An audible gasp passes around the table. Everyone begins to shout questions at me over one another, becoming a furious rabble.
Mitchell’s voice is louder than the rest. “What the fuck, Ethan? Did you get cold feet?”
“No, Mitchell. The work you have all done was impeccable, and I have never been prouder of my team. Each and every one of you has risen to the challenges of this project, and I’m impressed by the quality of the work you’ve done here. I want you all to know that my decision to withdraw the bid was not due to a lack of confidence in what you created.”
Elaine fixes me with a blank stare. “Then why?”
I take a deep breath and shake my head. I lift my gaze and make sure to catch the eyes of each person in the room. “I made some bad decisions that put us in a compromising situation. Because of those decisions, I had no choice but to end our involvement in the defense contract. We lost the contract because of me. This is my fault, and I apologize to you all. I hope that you can forgive my poor judgment.”
“I don’t understand, Ethan,” Mitchell says. “What bad decisions? What compromising situation?”
“I allowed my personal life to get in the way of business, Mitchell. I can’t give any more details, but I will reiterate that I accept full responsibility for losing this contract. I’m sorry.”
My team has more questions. I can feel their unspoken words burning in the air, but it’s too difficult for me to say any more. I’m filled with a crushing guilt. “Thank you for attending this meeting this morning. I appreciate your time. Please tell your teams to continue with their normal work. We’re back to business as usual.”
I call the meeting to an end and wait for everybody to file out. Each of them casts me a scathing glare as they pass by; a couple look concerned. Then it’s just me and Jennifer in the boardroom.
She rests her hand on my arm. “You did well, Ethan.”
“I feel like a complete jerk. Did you see their faces? All the work they put in, for what? And their boss can’t even tell them why.”
“You know that telling them would do no good. You told them it involved your personal life. They don’t need to know anymore.”
“There’ll be rumors.”
“There always are.”
“There’ll be resignations.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Really? Because if my boss had thrown years of my work down the drain with no real explanation, I’d be walking.”
“These people are loyal to you. They trust you.”
“Not anymore.”
“Whose name is it on the door, Ethan? This is Steele Industries. You built this company from the ground up. None of them would be here without you. This will be a hard blow for them, but they know you’re good at what you do, and you’ve always taken care of your staff. They’ll be disappointed, but everybody loves working here. This will pass.”
I nod, although I’m not convinced. I’ve let down my employees today.
Three weeks later, I walk into the lobby of my headquarters. Heads turn and conversations fall silent as I pass. I hear whispers.
Ever since news of the loss of the defense contract spread, pe
ople have been filling in the gaps with their imagination. Terminal illness. Mental breakdown. It doesn’t help that I’ve been absent from work a lot lately.
I go to my office. When I arrive, Jennifer’s waiting at her desk outside my door. She looks surprised to see me, stands, and follows me in. “Ethan! You’re in today. We haven’t seen much of you lately.”
“I told you on the phone, Jen, I’m stepping back a little.”
“Is that paint on your neck?”
I rub at the mark and sit down behind my desk.
Jennifer continues. “Are you a painter now? Jesus, Ethan, people have been asking where you are, and I don’t know what to tell them. I’ve got the press hounding me night and day. People are talking.”
“I told you there’d be rumors.”
“I can handle rumors, but I need a direction to spin the press. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you so you can tell me what you want me to say.”
“Tell them Ethan Steele is taking a sabbatical.”
“A sabbatical, hmm?” Jennifer sits on the other side of my desk, then leans forward on her elbows. “People think you had a breakdown, you know that? They’re talking about how you threw the defense contract and then haven’t come to work. People need to see you around here, or they’re going to lose faith in you.”
Jennifer reaches out and takes hold of my wrist, her eyes full of concern. “This isn’t like you, Ethan. Please tell me everything’s okay.”
“Everything is fine.”
She sits back. “Have you heard from Lily?”
“No.”
“Are you going to reach out to her?”
“I already have.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“I sent her a gift.”
Jennifer’s face falls. “I thought you said she’s not the sort of girl to go for expensive gifts.”
“It’s not that kind of gift. It’s something personal. From the heart.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, then.”
“Thanks, Jennifer.”
I wanted to reach out to Lily sooner, but it took me a month to finish the portrait. When I returned to New York after Lily told me to leave, I didn’t know how I was ever going to make things right, or if I would ever see her again. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the barely-begun canvas that I’d brought back with me from Arizona.
Paintbrush in hand, I started to bring Lily back to life. The girl I knew. The one I loved. I knew I had to finish it.
I’d spent hours hunched over the easel, putting oil to canvas. It had been so hard to break the news that we’d lost the defense contract to my team, and even harder to lose Lily all over again. When I had the brush in my hand, I could escape my thoughts and return to her.
A month had passed, but it was done, and I’d sent it to Lily. I’d thought about writing a letter to go with it, but I couldn’t find the words. I hoped that the painting would be enough to show her that she has always been with me.
“What will you do if the gift doesn’t work?” Jennifer asks me.
I don’t reply.
Jennifer leans forward, her expression tense. “I know you love her, Ethan, but this company needs you. If things don’t work out with Lily, please promise you’ll still come back to us.”
“I won’t let this company fall to pieces, Jen,” I say. “I’m thinking of making some changes.”
“Like what?”
“Stepping back a little. Letting you and Mitchell take the reins a bit more. The team is full of smart, talented people. I think maybe it’s time I let you spread your wings.”
“What are you talking about, Ethan?”
“Time back in Arizona has reminded me what really matters. I’m making money here, and I’m in the papers, but it’s all empty without someone to share it with. Lily said she didn’t recognize me anymore, and I feel like I don’t know myself these days, either.”
A half-smile plays on Jen’s face. “She said you used to be fun.”
“Hard to imagine, right?”
Jennifer sighs and sits back. “I don’t blame you if that’s what you want to do. I’ll help you put things in place. But promise me you won’t isolate yourself if you’re not with Lily. You’re too young for a mid-life crisis.”
I laugh. “I’m going to be fine, Jen. I guess this whole thing with Vincent and Lily has just put things into perspective for me. The life I’ve built here is great, but it’s not enough anymore. I want her. If I can’t have Lily, I at least want to be myself—someone more like I used to be. I’m not sure how I’m going to work it out yet, but I want to find the balance.”
I think of Lily. She should have received the portrait by now. I wonder if she’s opened it.
The portrait was my final gesture, the last thing I’ll do to try and win her back. I thought it would remind her of who I used to be, and let her see I’m still the same person, no matter what stupid mistakes I’ve made.
If it doesn’t work, then I’ll let her be. I’ll let that choice be hers. But I won’t go on living the way I have been. I’ll keep a little bit of Lily with me—always.
Lily
The cab takes me from the airport and drops me off in the heart of New York City. I step out of the car and look around in awe.
Everything is tall, fast, and alive with color. There are more people in one place than I’ve ever seen before. They move in large crowds, like flocks of birds. It seems like everybody has somewhere to be. There’s an energy to the place, and I’m pulled in by the force. I’m standing still, but I feel like I should be moving. New Yorkers crush around me, brushing past.
It’s brighter here than I thought it would be. I’d imagined skyscrapers so tall and daunting that they blocked out the sun, but instead, the sun catches the hundreds of windows and is reflected back, making me squint at all the lights in the sky.
There are so many sounds. Footsteps, car horns blaring, talking, laughing, advertisers shouting out. I can smell the cinnamon buns from the bakery across the street and the scent of fuel and rubber rising from the subway entrance nearby.
I’m at the center of the whole world.
In fact, I’m standing right in front of the headquarters of Steele Industries. It’s a huge building, not as tall as some of the skyscrapers around, but still monumental compared to the buildings back in Arizona. I wonder how many stories a building like that has.
I can’t believe I’ve come here all alone. Chloe wanted to accompany me, but I told her this was something I should do by myself. I’m too scared to jaywalk on these roads, so I wait at the crossing until it’s safe to go. The crowd sweeps me along like a wave, breaking at the entrance of Ethan’s headquarters.
Stepping inside, I look up and around with my mouth hanging open. It’s an amazing building, with high ceilings and two staircases that spiral off on either side of the lobby. There’s a reception desk to the left and a security booth to the right. The floors are marble, and there’s a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the center of the lobby. It looks like the foyer of some grand hotel.
I go to the reception desk, gripping the strap of my purse anxiously. I’m out of place here.
The receptionist is a bright-eyed woman with a brilliant smile. “Good morning, ma’am. How can I help you today?”
“I’m here to see Ethan. Ethan Steele.” I give his surname as if I could be talking about anyone other than the man who owns everything I see around me. I still can’t believe it. Ethan created all this?
The receptionist smiles. “Of course! Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I don’t.”
Her smile falters. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but meetings with Mr. Steele are by appointment only.”
“Can I make an appointment?”
“Appointments can be made through Mr. Steele’s assistant, Jennifer.”
“Great. Can I have her number?”
“Sure.”
The receptionist scribbles Jennifer’s number on a card. I walk away from the desk and pull out my cell in the middle of the lobby. I dial, but I get put on hold. I wait a few minutes and try again.
After the third attempt, I don’t want to keep trying. I’ve come all the way to New York to see Ethan, and he’s nowhere to be found.
Looking around, I subtly edge toward the staircase on the right. The security guard sees me glancing around and beckons to me. “Ma’am, you can’t go up there.”
“I’m looking for a bathroom.”
He points toward the women’s restrooms on the ground floor.
“Oh, thank you.”
I start heading toward the door, but as soon as the security guard turns away, I dash back to the stairs and begin racing up the steps. I hear him shouting after me.
I get to the top of the staircase and don’t know where to turn. Men and women in business suits are staring at me in my jeans and cardigan. The guard is racing up the stairs behind me.
Picking left, I begin to run. There’s another security guard ahead. The one behind me calls out. “Stop her!”
I keep running, looking over my shoulder at the security guard behind, and end up running straight into one of the businessmen in his fancy suit. I hit him full force and don’t land on the floor only because he holds me up.
I hear a voice. “It’s okay. She’s with me.”
Looking up, I see that I’ve run straight into Ethan’s arms. He looks sharp. He’s wearing a suit jacket and crisp pressed pants, but the collar of his white shirt is open. He hasn’t cut his hair since I last saw him, and it’s starting to wave. He looks more casual and less serious than a month ago.
“Ethan!”
He smiles, and his eyes light up. “Lily. You’re here.”
“I got the painting.”
“Let’s talk.” Ethan puts his arm around me and leads me down the hall upstairs. Everyone looks as we pass by. People whisper.
He sees me looking at the people watching us and chuckles. “I haven’t been myself lately, and they’re wondering why.”
