Chronicles of a Lincoln Park Fashionista

by Aven Ellis

  “My assignment was shooting Arrivals & Departures in the JFK terminal. And that’s what Deke’s doing today.”

  Suddenly tears fill my eyes. “So,” I say, forcing the words out over the huge lump in my throat, “Deacon hates me that much? He hates me so much that he’d rather go to New York than to stay in Chicago to work things out with me?”

  “Is there a reason why Deke should want to work things out with you, after what he heard?” Zach asks accusingly.

  “He misunderstood,” I say. Zach becomes blurry in my eyes, but I continue. “Zach, I did say some things about him. Awful things, things I wish I could take back. But I said them in the beginning, before I knew what kind of man Deacon really was.”

  I pause for a moment, and Zach still stares at me, not saying a word.

  “He missed the first part of the conversation. My friends were asking me why I looked so happy when I first walked through the door. They wanted to know why I was glowing. And I told them it was because of Deacon. They were shocked—because I kept my feelings about him to myself—and they began repeating all the things I had said about Deacon in May. I never got the chance to tell them the truth. I never got to defend Deacon and tell them all the reasons why I fell for him.”

  Zach’s eyes continue to search my face. And I almost burst into tears when I notice he has the same thinking expression on his face that Deke gets when he’s questioning something.

  “That’s why I got here early today,” I admit, my voice wobbly with emotion. I glance down at the carpet, trying my best not to sob. “I wanted to explain that to Deacon. I wanted to tell him all the things that make him so special to me. But I never dreamed he’d leave Chicago. I . . . I had no idea that he could hate me that much.”

  I sniffle and glance up at Zach, whose expression has softened.

  “Avery, I’d say the exact opposite is true,” Zach says softly. “Do you have any idea of how much you mean to him? Any idea at all?”

  My heart starts beating again the second I hear Zach say that. “What do you mean?”

  “You bring out a side of Deke that I’ve never seen before,” Zach says quietly. “My brother has always been serious. Careful. Focused on work and never his personal life. But the day he started shooting you, all of that began to change. It’s like you turned on the light switch inside of him, Avery.”

  “But he hated me the first day he shot me.”

  A slow smile appears on Zach’s face. “Did he?”

  “Do you think he liked me even back then?” I ask, surprised.

  “All I know is that he talked about you an awful lot,” Zach says, his eyes shining at me. “Which is something he never does. Over time it changed to ‘Avery said the funniest thing,’ or ‘Listen to what happened with Avery today.’ But it was always about you.

  “Avery, you’re the only woman who brings out this side of him,” Zach says, continuing. “Deke always talks about how full of life you are. You make him laugh. You make him happy. You make him think about something other than work, which hasn’t happened in five years. I’ve never seen him like this. Ever. The fact that he opened up to you is huge. For Deke to do that, to even want to take that chance, means that he really cares about you.”

  Instead of being comforted by Zach’s words, I’m pissed.

  “Well, if your brother cares about me so much, then why the hell is he in New York?” I snap, frustration filling me. “Does Deacon think he can just shut me out like this? That I’m some mindless fashionista who will just move on with her life without him in it?”

  Zach stares at me like I’m speaking gibberish. “What?”

  “Does he think he can just swap places with you and avoid me because we had a fight?” I rant, throwing my messenger bag on the floor. “People who love each other fight. But they don’t go off to work at JFK because of it.”

  I notice Zach is eyeing me carefully. “So you’re in love with Deke?”

  “Yes. I do love him. And he’s not getting out of my life this easily. If he thinks flying to New York is an obstacle for me, then he has sorely underestimated me.” I go over to my desk and jerk open my drawer. I move the stack of In Style magazines aside and take out my employee airline passes.

  “Avery, wait. There’s more to this JFK—”

  “No, I will not wait,” I snap, turning around to face Zach. “I’m going to New York. Right now.”

  Zach’s blue-green eyes widen in shock. “What?”

  I hesitate for a moment. Okay, so that sounded like a really good declaration and all, and if this were a Lifetime TV movie I’d already be dramatically flouncing out the door en route to the airport.

  But it’s not.

  I’m going to have to go to Lindsay and ask for permission to do something I’m not supposed to do. I have to ask for an emergency vacation day to travel to New York City.

  But I don’t give a damn about supposed to anymore. I need to prove to Deke that I’m not like the other women who have been in his life. That I love him and I’ll fight for him with every fiber of my being.

  And that means flying to New York this morning.

  “I’m going to JFK,” I say honestly, picking my messenger bag up off the floor. “I’m going to prove to Deacon how much I love him. By the way, you won’t be my videographer when I get back. Your brother shouldn’t shirk his responsibility to this project. And I will tell him that when I land in New York.”

  “You’re good for him, Avery.” Zach says. “Now you go to New York and convince him that he’s just as good for you, too. Deke’s got his guard up, but if anyone can break through it, it’s you.”

  I step back from him and nod. I really like Zach. Which is good, because if Deke and I get married someday, he’ll be a great brother-in-law.

  But I digress. Before I can even think about the china pattern in our future—which, by the way, will be this exquisite Vera Wang pattern I’ve worshipped for three years at Bloomingdale’s—I have to see if Lindsay will let me go to New York City and take my first step toward it.

  I nervously head toward Lindsay’s office. Now this is going to be kind of tricky, because Lindsay lives for work and probably can’t imagine how one’s personal life can take priority over it, even for a day.

  But I have to go to New York.

  And I won’t take no for an answer.

  I pause in Lindsay’s doorway before entering. Her fingers are flying across the keyboard, no doubt crafting the next great piece of airline marketing strategy to show to Craig Potanski.

  I gently rap on the doorframe to let her know I’m standing there.

  Lindsay quickly swivels around in her chair, smiling as soon as she sees me.

  “Good morning, Avery. So are you here bright and early to get started on your spa basket project?” Lindsay asks cheerfully.

  “Uh, well, while I’m extremely anxious to get started on my spa baskets,” I say carefully, entering her office, “I have to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

  Lindsay’s dark brown eyes lock with mine. “Okay. Why don’t you have a seat?”

  I sit down and Lindsay turns completely away from her keyboard, facing me.

  “This is in regards to my personal life,” I say bluntly. “And I have to ask for a favor. One I’m not supposed to ask for since I haven’t been here that long.”

  Lindsay stares at me blankly.

  I swallow hard, the words swirling in my head. I have to convince her to let me use a vacation day today, despite the fact I haven’t earned it yet. I must to go to New York this morning. Lindsay saying “no” simply isn’t an option.

  “I have a theory,” I blurt out. “About the word supposed.”

  “Theory?” Craig Potanski’s deep voice says from behind. “I love theories. Do you mind if I sit in?”
<
br />   I whip around to find Craig standing in the doorway. Damn it! What is it with people hearing everything I say from the doorway? I swear, from now on I’m closing every door I walk through.

  “I don’t mind at all,” Lindsay says. “Come on in.”

  Craig takes a sip of his coffee and takes the chair next to me. “Go on, Avery. Your theory about the word supposed?”

  I gulp. Oh shit. This really isn’t what I had in mind. I didn’t intend to go off on theories, and certainly not in front of the marketing genius of the airline industry.

  But I’ll do it if it gets me to Deke.

  “Well, I don’t think you should live your life by supposed,” I say. “If I were to always do what I’m supposed to do, I never would have spoken up in our brainstorming session last month, because new, entry-level assistants aren’t supposed to. If I did what I was supposed to do, I never would have worked on the spa basket idea once it was rejected. And I was never, ever supposed to have presented it to you, Craig, for further thought. So I really don’t like to live my life by ‘supposed.’ At least, not anymore I don’t.”

  I take a deep breath before continuing. “I have to ask for something I’m not supposed to have yet. Lindsay,” I turn my eyes toward hers, “I need to take a vacation day today. I know I’m not supposed to, but I have a personal emergency—one in New York—that needs my immediate attention. I know I haven’t earned the right to use a vacation day. I know I’m supposed to fill out paperwork in advance, but I’m begging you to please let me have today off. Please. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t really important.”

  “Oh, Avery, has there been an illness in your family?” Lindsay asks, her voice full of concern. “A medical emergency?”

  “Uh . . . no,” I admit, feeling Craig’s eyes studying my profile. “There’s been no death or illness.”

  “Oh,” Lindsay says, falling silent. She clears her throat. “Well, Avery, those are really the only cases we’re supposed to consider when allowing an employee in their probationary period to take a day off.”

  Oh God. She’s going to say no. My heart lurches into my stomach. I’m not going to go to New York. God knows how long Deke’s assignment is there or if—

  “Lindsay,” Craig says, his voice interrupting my thoughts, “didn’t you hear Avery? Life isn’t about supposed. It’s about following your gut. And I don’t think Avery would ask you for a day off unless it was something extremely urgent that she had to take care of immediately.”

  I turn to Craig, hope filling me. “I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t. I love this company, Craig. I want to build a long career here at Premier Airlines. I enjoy the project planning and working on premiums and I think I would like to explore Event Marketing, too. And I already have started my spa basket plans and I promise you I’ll get here really early tomorrow to begin—”

  “Avery,” Craig says, smiling at me, “I believe you.”

  I turn back to Lindsay. I notice she’s staring at Craig with shocked expression.

  “So you want me to let Avery have the day off?” she asks, sounding very surprised.

  “I think Avery will more than make it up to us,” Craig says, standing up from his chair.

  I turn back to Lindsay, holding my breath.

  “Okay,” she finally says. “Fill out the vacation request paperwork when you get here tomorrow morning and I’ll turn it in.”

  “Thank you, Lindsay,” I say, getting up out of my chair. “I won’t forget your flexibility and generosity on this matter.”

  I head out of the office with Craig, my heart pounding inside my chest as I do.

  “Thank you for your help back there,” I say, glancing up at him. “I swear I’ll make it up to you and the company.”

  “I’m not in the least concerned about that. But do tell me. Would this personal matter have anything to do with the fact that Deke Ryan isn’t here shooting today?” Craig asks, taking a nonchalant sip of his coffee.

  I stop dead in my tracks. My mouth pops open. I stare at Craig, completely stunned that he has figured this out.

  “How did you know that?” I gasp.

  A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Sometimes I notice things I’m not supposed to see.”

  Then he goes to enter his office, but before he steps inside, Craig turns and nods at me. “Have a good trip. I hope everything works out the way it should.”

  I stare at him, dumbfounded. But then I realize Craig is exactly right. Things with Deke will work out the way they should.

  And as soon as I can catch the next flight to JFK, they will.

  Chapter 24

  As soon as the captain has turned off the fasten seatbelts sign and the door to the jet craft is opened at the gate at JFK, I resist the urge to jump up from my seat at the back of the plane, push my way down the aisle, and run off the 757 and into the terminal.

  I drum my fingers anxiously on my armrest while other passengers try to pry bags out of overhead bins that never should have been put there in the first place. It slows everyone down.

  And I would be able to get off this plane—and get to Deke—a whole lot faster.

  My heart throbs in nervousness as I think of him. I check my watch for like the zillionth time, noting that it’s almost 1:30 PM. Zach told me in the afternoon, Deke would be shooting at Gate 27 in the Premier Airlines terminal.

  I swallow hard as thoughts swirl through my head. I think of just how much my life has changed in a month. Because a month ago, my worst nightmare would be taking a flight by myself.

  But now flying is nothing compared with the fear of losing Deke.

  But I’m not going to lose him, I think determinedly. I’ve gotten on this airplane, flown to New York City, and I’m not coming back unless Deke is coming back with me.

  I notice the people in front of me are finally exiting the airplane. I grab my purse and get up, quickly moving down the aisle. My chest draws tight. My palms are sweating. I swallow hard as I enter the terminal, trying to get my bearings and figure out which way I need to go to get to Deke.

  I look up at the terminal signage and follow the way to Gate 27. My heart is now pounding so loudly that I can barely hear anything else. I move through the passengers in the terminal, dodging their wheeled luggage bags, walking as fast as I can without running.

  Where is he? My eyes strain to see through the throng of people, desperate to find him. Gate 27 is drawing closer and closer. But I still can’t see him. Panic suddenly strikes me. What if there’s been a change? What if they’ve moved him somewhere else? How am I going to find him then? My cell phone is dead since I forgot to charge it last night, so I can’t message Deke that I’m here. Oh God. If I don’t see him today, I will die. I think I really will die if—

  Then I stop dead in my tracks. Passengers are just starting to trickle into Gate 27 for the flight to Amsterdam, but there’s only one person I see.

  Deke has his back to me. He’s wearing another faded T-shirt and cargo shorts. His camera is in the case by his feet, and he’s drinking some bottled water.

  I breathe deeply, gazing at the man I’ve fallen in love with. I love his vintage T-shirts and cargo shorts and every unique thing that makes him who he is.

  I gather up all my courage and move toward him. I stop behind Deke and swallow hard before speaking.

  “Dear Emily,” I say firmly, “I have a problem, and I don’t know to solve it.”

  Deke whips around the second he hears my voice. And when he sees me, a totally stunned expression appears on his handsome face.

  “Avery!” he gasps. “Avery what . . . what are you doing—”

  “Dear Emily,” I repeat again, staring deeply into his eyes, “I have a problem, and I don’t know how to solve it. I have hurt someone I care about very badly, but he doesn’t know t
he whole story. He overheard a conversation, but he heard it out of context.”

  Deke stares at me in shock, his eyes searching mine in confusion.

  I take a breath and continue to speak from my heart.

  “When I came back from my trip to San Francisco, I was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. I’ve finally figured out that I don’t need to do what I’m ‘supposed’ to do, but rather what I want and need to do. I have a new career with Premier Airlines. I’ve tackled my deepest fear, the one of getting on an airplane and flying. And most of all, I met a man who has changed everything in my life.”

  I watch as Deke swallows. My own throat grows tight, and I swallow too, pushing the lump down so I can keep speaking.

  “He’s the most fascinating person I’ve ever known,” I say. “He’s wise beyond his years, understands the human heart, and has compassion for people he barely knows. He wears vintage T-shirts that express his personality, he’s fascinated with other cultures, and he pushes people to be the best they can be.”

  I take a breath before continuing. “Emily, I adore this man,” I say, my voice growing very wobbly, “and he’s changed my life for the better. When I came home from San Francisco, I was glowing. And I told my friends it was because I was in love with him.”

  I notice Deke’s eyes have filled with tears, and mine do, too.

  “They were confused, as all they had heard up until now was all the things I had thought I knew about him, in the beginning,” I say, feeling an embarrassed blush climb up my cheeks. “And I’ve never been so wrong about anyone in my life. I love him, Emily. But I don’t know if he can lower his guard and let me back into his life. I’m begging for that chance. That chance to prove I’m not like the other women in his life. I’m not disappointed in him. I love him. Yes, we’ll fight sometimes, but that’s okay because we belong together. But how do I get another chance? Please help me. Signed, Heartbroken Fashionista in Lincoln Park.”