by Ashley Quinn
London bit her lip as they made their way to the bar and finally sighed. “Okay, I give,” she relented. “It’s driving me mad. How did your meeting with Mr. Hanson go? How do you think he felt about you taking over Daniel’s role and me transitioning into yours?”
Holly gave her a sidelong glance as the bartender approached them. “Two vodka and soda waters, please,” she ordered with a smile. She turned to London. “I was going to wait until the end of the evening to discuss it with you. I thought we could both use a work-free night out at the gala. But I should’ve known, because I know how you are and you’re never going to relax until your questions are answered.”
London nodded. “So what is it? Good news, bad news, no news?” She glanced at the bartender with a short smile as he handed her a frosty glass. The ice cubes clinked against the sides as she took a slow sip. “Holly, you’re killing me.”
Holly took a deep breath and met London’s eyes as she steeled her gaze. “I have great news, but I don’t know if you’ll believe it’s great news at first.”
London blinked. “What does that mean? The promotion is great news if I have it in the bag. I never envisioned myself as the corporate type, but focusing on work has so far been successful in keeping me distracted and busy.”
Holly pursed her lips and guided London to an overstuffed white sofa across the ballroom. “And therein lies the problem,” she murmured.
“What?” London asked, unsure if she’d heard her friend correctly.
Holly placed her drink onto a glass coffee table as they sank into the soft suede. “Mr. Hanson offered me the Chief Marketing Officer position,” she started.
London sat up and grinned. “Oh my God, that’s amazing!”
Holly held up a hand. “Not so fast, London,” she continued. “When I mentioned your name as the person I wanted to steer into my role, it brought up a long conversation about you.”
London’s smile faltered. “What...What do you mean, a conversation about me?”
“He made some excellent points that I wholeheartedly agree with,” Holly went on. “So please listen to me and have an open mind. Take everything into consideration and understand that it’s coming from a place of good intentions. I promise you, London.”
“Okay,” she replied slowly, unsure if she was liking the direction of the conversation.
Holly took a sip of her drink. “He mentioned that the transition into my role will, undoubtedly, mean more responsibilities, long hours and a widely expanded workload. I know you’re familiar with what I do, but dealing directly with our national accounts means dealing with a lot of different personalities on any given day. Also, you’re going to go from zero work-related travel to nearly 50%.”
London wrinkled her nose. “Holly, I understand that there will be more expected of me. I’m prepared for that.”
“There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that you have the talent, the drive and the work ethic,” Holly replied. “But we’re both concerned that it could be too much for you at this time and you’ll end up crashing and burning. That’s what happens when you go full force ahead and don’t take the time to slow down,” Holly raised her hand to quiet London’s protests. “I care about you and I want to see you succeed. Mr. Hanson is well-liked throughout W.H. Young because he has genuine concern for his employees. I’ve seen people crash and burn before. You can think you’re the most ready person on the planet, but the fact is that the world relies on balance. You can’t have one extreme or the other for too long before something has to give. You’re so talented. I don’t want to see you break down.”
London rested her chin in her hand. Her drink was tasting better and better as Holly spoke. “I don’t understand,” she said stubbornly. “I don’t get what everyone is so worried about. So I don’t like to talk about things or wear my feelings on my sleeve, so what. A lot of people are like that. My father was the king of that so it’s especially not fair now that he keeps calling me, trying to force a relationship and asking me to visit...”
“Wait, what?” Holly asked incredulously. “I know he was at the funeral, but you never said much about it. I thought you couldn’t stand him. I thought he was a callous, absentee asshole for your entire life. What does he say?”
London shrugged slowly. “Ever since my mom passed away,” she answered truthfully. “He’s been trying to wedge himself into my life. We had a couple of decent conversations, I guess, but he wants me to take some time off and stay at his place in Fort Worth. Like I have nothing better to do than up and get on a plane. I may be the illegitimate daughter of some big-time oil guy, but I’m not sitting around and wasting opportunities. Unlike my ex-stepmother, I work and have a career that I care about. I always wanted to make my own name for myself.”
Holly took another deep breath. She rubbed her thumb against the condensation pooling around the bottom of her glass. “London, the only time you've ever taken off was three days when your mother passed. Most people would take at least a week, maybe even a few. And with what you went through right after? I can’t imagine going through one of those situations, let alone both within a few months...”
“I prefer to focus on work so I don’t run myself into a depression,” London cut in. “Please don’t tell me that you think my father is on to something.”
Holly stirred her drink and nodded slowly. “I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice,” she finally responded. “I think you should take the summer off. You have six weeks of paid vacation that you’ve never taken. Mr. Hanson is willing to give you further consideration, but you need to take time to regroup first. He wants to see the focus and fire that you came into the agency with. And we both want to be sure that you’re ready, given everything that you’ve been through personally.”
London’s mouth dropped open. “Take the summer off?” She repeated. “Where would I even go? What would I do?” She spread her hands helplessly. “Holly, that won’t help me at all. All that time by myself is akin to torture. I won’t know what to do with myself...”
Holly put a hand on her hip. “Have I ever steered you wrong?” She asked. “In the length of time that we’ve known each other, have I ever given you bad advice?”
London’s eyes dropped to the marble floor beneath their feet. “No...”
“Then I’m telling you,” Holly cut in. “I am promising you that this will be the most beneficial thing you’ve done for yourself. I’m afraid that, right now, Mr. Hanson thinks it’s too soon. Once you’re in my role, it’s going to be go, go, go. All the time. Go refresh your mind and soul and come back guns blazing. Rent a house on a remote beach somewhere. Climb a mountain in Africa, I don’t know! Hole up in a dreary, romantic European apartment and write the next Great American Novel.”
“Oh sure, I’ll just get on the next plane to Denmark...” London retorted.
“Actually...” Holly’s eyes lit up and London knew that her mind was spinning. She groaned and picked up her drink.
“See this?” London pointed to her glass. “It’s empty. I’m going to get another one. And I’m not going to Russia to get the vodka.”
“London, wait,” Holly called. “Come outside with me. Quick cigarette. I want you to hear me out.”
She set her jaw and stayed silent as Holly guided them outside. They plopped onto the wide concrete steps of the Art Institute as London looked morosely at the cars speeding past on Michigan Avenue.
Holly lit a cigarette and breathed out slowly. “This is the most emotion I’ve seen in your eyes in at least a year.”
“You think I should run off to Texas and spend time with a half-sister that I’ve only met a handful of times and a father that never wanted to know me,” London stated sullenly.
“He wants to know you now,” Holly replied. “That should count for something. When people get older and they reach that weird space just past middle aged, they start to reflect on their life. They see things differently than they did in their twenties, their thirties. Has he apologiz
ed and admitted his mistakes?”
London briefly recalled their morning conversation and swallowed hard.
“Then you should give him a chance,” Holly continued softly. “It’s not fair to blame your half-sister for him being a part of her life when you don’t know her. It’s all she’s known. You don’t control him or the decisions he’s made.”
London smiled despite the fact that she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of temporarily leaving the city that had once held so much intrigue and promise. “Oh, I know that,” she muttered. “He’s hard-headed as hell.”
Holly threw her head back and laughed. “I wondered where you got it from!”
“You’re a good saleswoman, I’ll give you that,” London replied. “I suppose I can always hang out and try to do some work from afar. Mr. Hanson can’t possibly pass me up then.”
Holly shook her head and wrapped her arm around London. “Sure,” she responded. “Whatever you feel you need to do. I can give you that. People love you, London. You just have to learn how to trust the world enough to let us.”
London rested her head on her friend’s shoulder, inhaling the smoke that curled upwards from the cigarette that rested daintily between Holly’s thin index and middle fingers. “I trust your judgment,” she declared. “I’ll call my father tomorrow. Everyone wins. I’ll try to work on some low-priority assignments while I’m away so they can be ahead of schedule,” she paused and rolled her eyes. “When I return, of course.”
“Good,” Holly replied after a moment. “What do you say we go back inside and enjoy the night? Did you see that dessert table? Good thing you burn enough calories every night at the gym for us both.” Holly rubbed London’s shoulder and stood. “Because I cannot turn down a chocolate fountain.”
London laughed and brushed off her pants as she stood. She turned one last time, taking in the traffic, the lights, the bustle and the hulking glass and concrete buildings against the dusky evening sky. Could I live outside of Chicago? She wrinkled her nose. This city is loud, boisterous and big. But it’s my home. Would I survive in a place like Texas?
“Girl, what are you waiting for?” Holly’s voice made London turn back. “When I say chocolate fountain, that means let’s go!”
London laughed again and jogged up the stairs. Weird she thought. I feel lighter than I have in ages.
CHAPTER 5
Later that evening, London sank onto her bed from unsteady feet. The night had been a lot to take in and, as typical with Holly, one drink had turned into a few more. She laid back against the cool pillows and closed her eyes. A slight buzz from the vodka still pulsed gently through her temples. The bedroom was dark, except for one bright trail of yellow light beaming from a street light half a block away.
What do I do? She wondered. Could I leave everything and take a chance in Texas? What if it’s horrible, what if my father and I argue every chance we get? What if Tiffany and I hate each other? What if, what if, what if.
The questions swirled through her mind and she took a deep breath. She opened her eyes and, in the deafening silence of the dark apartment, she took in her surroundings for what felt like the first time. The furnishings were modern but simple: black furniture, a flat-screen television, basic amenities.
If we’re being honest, a person wouldn’t know if they were in a hotel room or my apartment London realized. She was surprised at the disappointment she felt. There’s no personality here.
She wondered if she had subconsciously done that on purpose. During the course of her and Kayley’s relationship, they had collected a few pieces of art and a handful of knick-knacks; things that had given the apartment life and a splash of character. London hadn’t fought it when Kayley took those items as she moved out.
I wanted her to leave as quickly as possible and I wanted every trace of her gone from this apartment London recalled dejectedly. Any lingering reminders would have hurt too much. Between my mom and then Kayley and Tara, I was already at my threshold of hurt for, I don’t know, the next twenty years or so.
“I don’t like this apartment,” she whispered into the dark. She blinked at the ceiling. “I don’t even like myself.”
With her mind slowed by vodka and exhaustion, London carefully reached onto her bedside table and grabbed her phone. She knew it was late and her father was most likely asleep, but it was suddenly very important to send the text message she had in mind.
Before I lose my nerve she finished silently. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking or maybe I’m so tired of disliking myself and everything around me, but I give in. I’m sick of feeling this way. I’m sick of the days running together and the months passing me by. A short trip to Texas to get this promotion can’t possibly be worse than sticking around here and feeling more numb each day.
She smiled as she finished typing out the message and tried to read it over. The words swam before her eyes and her thumb hovered uncertainly over the Send button. With a decisive breath, London hit Send and watched as a blue bubble holding the message popped onto her screen with one small, intimidating word below: Delivered.
Dad, give me a call when you get this. I know it’s late, but I’ve done some thinking and wanted to take you up on your offer. I’m ready to visit. I have some time off coming up and thought we could plan something soon. Let’s talk more when you call. Have a good night.
London felt a satisfactory smile play at her lips and she closed her eyes again. “This is what I need to do,” she whispered to herself as she curled beneath the blankets. Her mouth was beginning to taste like stale alcohol and cotton, but a sense of accomplishment surged through her. “I’ll take a few weeks in Texas, come back ready for that promotion and then everything will fall into place.”
For the first time in as long as she could recall, it felt as if the Universe had finally begun aligning. With a steely, unfamiliar confidence that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, she knew in her heart that this was the right decision.
---
“Nat, Nat, Nat!” Natalie turned with a start as Isabella sprang from the pantry with a giggle.
“Isabella, what’s going on?” Natalie asked. She glanced over her friend’s daughter and mentally recounted the neatly stacked boxes for this afternoon’s baby shower. “Is everything okay?”
Isabella laughed. “I was trying to scare you! You didn’t jump at all.”
Natalie smiled and ruffled her dark brown hair. “You are full of energy since you’re out of school for the summer, huh?” She observed dryly. “How about you help me load some boxes into the food truck so we can deliver them for the party?”
Isabella nodded eagerly and held out her arms, patiently waiting, as Natalie selected a light box of mini cupcakes for the younger girl. “Yup and no more school for, uh...” She paused and began following Natalie to the truck. “Two and a half months.”
Natalie laughed as she wrenched open the truck’s wide back door. She turned to relieve Isabella of the box. “And then what?” She teased. “You’ll start second grade, right?”
Isabella frowned and put her hands on her hips. “Natalie, second grade was last year,” she pouted. “You know what grade I’ll be in.”
“Oh, right,” Natalie bit back another smile. “Yes, of course. You’ll be in kindergarten.”
She burst into laughter as Isabella scoffed and stomped a foot. “Third grade,” she corrected her with a sniff. “You know I’m not a baby.”
Natalie held her hands in a conciliatory gesture and nodded. “Okay, okay,” she conceded with a wink. “You got me. I just can’t believe you’re going to be in third grade this fall. I still remember the day you were born.”
Isabella nodded seriously. “Eight years ago,” she replied. “Soon to be nine. That’s almost a decade.”
Natalie groaned as she led them back into the bakery for another load. “God, yeah it was,” she responded. “Did your mom mention what time she was picking you up today? I was too busy double-checking the order for today’s par
ty to hear much of anything she said when you were dropped off.”
Isabella smiled. “Mom said she’d try to leave Denton around two. And she also says you work too much for someone your age.”
Natalie grinned and handed her another box of mini cupcakes. “Your mom worries just like my tias,” she replied. “I get out of this bakery plenty.”
Yeah, right a small voice piped up in Natalie’s head. Except for when you dated Cristina, you’ve never gotten out much. Natalie hoisted a heavy box of eclairs into her arms and marched back into the heat. The two years I spent with Cristina were one big whirlwind of late nights, all day naps, zero ambition, raging parties and too much alcohol.
She thought back to her single serious relationship as she neatly organized the boxes in the back of the truck. I was so young she thought ruefully. Sheltered country girl who fell madly in love with the first outsider she met. Natalie turned and took another box from Isabella’s waiting arms.
I was barely twenty. She was, what was it? Thirty-three or thirty-four? Drifted into town from Los Angeles with her band, which I thought was just too cool Natalie thought. I thought everything she said and did was awesome. She loved to rage and we partied our way through the metroplex for almost two years. She laughed to herself. Everyone wanted to be around her. Except Celia and Jane, because they couldn’t stand her. I had no ambition, no direction in life and all she did was lead me from party to party. We’d drink together all night and lay around all day. But then the parties slowed, she got bored and moved on to a different location and a new young, eager girl.
“And, just like that, it was over,” Natalie murmured. “Easy for her, devastating for me.”
Isabella’s small figure appeared in the window reflection behind her. Natalie turned with a smile. “Is that the last box?”
Isabella nodded as she handed the cream cheese brownies to her. “Can I ride with you to make the delivery instead of cleaning the store room? I’ve never been in the food truck before.”
