by Nova Rain
My days at United are officially over…
Chapter Thirty
Penny
“It’s going to be all right.”
Amid endless keying, report reading and phone calls, I tried to persuade myself that my relationship with Jake was unharmed. I had overreacted, he would forgive me for being an idiot, and we’d make up. All the same, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had broken between us. It didn’t matter who had screwed up the most. It just mattered that someone had. And I was that someone, for all the reasons I had discussed with Ava. Deep down, I hoped that I was just overreacting again, but this could well be a fool’s hope. Jake might have been cool up to that point. He had been his usual, calm self; yet, with the threat of unemployment looming over him, he could well take his frustration out on me.
Picturing his smiling face, I spotted a red dot on the email tab on my browser. I clicked it, believing it was just another promotional offer from God-knows-who. I was wrong… The sender was “The Beverly Hills Chronicle,” whereas the message was titled “Job Offer.”
“Dear Ms. Green,
Congratulations on your offer from “The Beverly Hills Chronicle”! We are delighted to offer you the position of Assistant Editor In Chief, with an anticipated start date of 1-2-2020.”
At that moment, the landline phone rang with an incoming call from a number beginning from 310. I wasn’t hallucinating. The email wasn’t a joke. Someone was actually calling me from L.A.
“Brooklyn Bulletin, Penny Green speaking.”
“Ms. Green, good morning.” A deep, female voice was on the other end of the line. “I’m Julia Kessler, Editor In Chief of the Beverly Hills Chronicle. I trust you’ve received my email.”
“Good morning. Can you please give me a minute? I just opened that email.”
“Of course. I’ll wait.”
I covered the phone with my hand and took two, consecutive, deep breaths, before going ahead.
“Please find attached your detailed offer letter. If you choose to accept this offer, please sign, scan, and email your letter to me at this email address by 12-15-2019.
In the meantime, please, do not hesitate to contact me, either through email, or by calling me directly at 310-208-2329 if you should have any questions or concerns.
We look forward to hearing from you and hope you will join our team!
Best Regards,
Julia Kessler
Beverly Hills Chronicle
Editor In Chief”
Clicking the attachment, I felt adrenaline surging in my veins. My gaze was fixed on the figure in the middle of the page in a split second.
“Annual Salary: $150,000 + Benefits”
I gasped with shock, reading some more details. These people were offering me proper healthcare, along with dental care.
“Mrs. Kessler, sorry for the delay. I just finished reading your offer. I do have a question. Why did you call me yourself?”
“Because I’ve been monitoring your progress since your little mishap in Miami, Ms. Green,” she claimed, her tone relaxed. “You’ve done very well for yourself lately. I believe you would make a great addition to our team. Also, I know some fools try to scam people out of their money by sending phishing emails from fake HR accounts. I thought I should add some realism and credibility to my job offer.”
“I see. Well, thank you very much for the offer. It’s an honor. Can you please give me some time to think about it?”
“By all means, Ms. Green. I’m emailing you an open two-way ticket to L.A. Come over here; have a look at the building; get to meet your future colleagues. I’d be glad to talk to you in person, and answer any questions you might have concerning working hours or anything else.”
“I don’t know what to say Mrs. Kessler. You’re being very generous.” I told her, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Just say ‘yes,’ Penny.” She encouraged with a laugh. “See you soon, I hope.”
“Bye.”
Without wasting a second, I printed out the contract. I meant to show it to Ava and my “beloved” colleagues, but the first person who had to be notified of this was none other than Walter. Not because I wanted to gloat; I saved that for the morons who had been calling me a joke for years. I needed to see for myself what my editor’s reaction would be.
I halted outside his office and knocked on his open door, his loud voice overshadowing the ambient buzz.
“Three hundred bucks for Christmas lights? Karen, have you lost your damn mind?” He growled, gripping the landline phone. “Buy them, and you’ll spend Christmas alone. That’s a promise! God damn it,” He yelled, slamming the phone down. “What is it?”
“I can come back later,” I spoke in a weak voice. “You look very upset.”
“What? Get your ass in here,” he commanded, gesturing me in. “Give me that thing.”
“Okay,” I whispered, setting the contract down on his desk.
“Beverly Hills Chronicle?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I was just on the phone with their editor in chief,” I informed him, standing next to his desk. “It looks like they want to hire me.”
“That is a lot of money.” Walter whistled at the amount. “I can’t match that, Penny. Hell, even I don’t make that much in a year. What did you tell them?”
“I didn’t accept it. Yet.” My voice still came out hesitant. “It’s a big decision, Walter. I’ll have to give up my whole life here. My mother, my boyfriend, my friends…”
“And the forty grand we’re paying you,” he interrupted. “Take it, Green. It’s a huge opportunity.”
“Thanks for the advice. I’ll think about it and let you know,” I spoke and moved away from him. My editor’s attitude to this development didn’t surprise me. The Bulletin was not rich per se. Neither was it famous for rewarding its employees so handsomely. Either way, I had to do the professional thing and disclose this to him. Unlike Walter, I didn’t intend on keeping him in the dark about something that would have an effect on his professional life.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jake
“Brooklyn Promenade. Same time as our first date. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Penny’s text wasn’t what I’d call a “demonstration of affection.” On the contrary, it sounded rather cold. After almost forty-hours of radio silence however, I would take it. It was better than nothing. I would find out where we stood. I had grown tired of speculating all the time. In my current psychological state, that speculation was more than I could handle.
Returning to the Promenade, I couldn’t help but compare these dates. Plain and simple, it was like comparing heaven and hell. Back then, I was a seasoned, well respected pilot. Airport staff recognized me and welcomed me with smiles on their faces. We had known each other for so long that we were on a first-name basis. There was no need for formalities for people who went as far back as 2009. I made $120,000 a year, and was on my way to becoming a flight instructor, which meant I would make about twenty percent more than my annual salary. I didn’t have a stable personal life, until I met Penny. Now, I had lost my job. Worse still, I could lose the most precious thing in life: my freedom. And as if that wasn’t enough, my relationship with Penny was in shambles. In truth, the single similarity between these dates, was the cold driving through my bones.
With a seagull’s call echoing through the atmosphere, I spotted my girlfriend’s feminine figure at the top of the staircase. I smiled in bitterness, recalling the feeling that beautiful view gave me, not so long ago. This time, I felt like the heavyweight champion of the world had punched me in the chest. There was no joy whatsoever. There wasn’t even a hint of satisfaction, watching her approach me in her dark-red pantsuit.
“Hi there,” I muttered under my breath. “How are you?”
“Confused,” her response came fast, as if she anticipated the question. “What about you?”
“I met with United executives this morning,” I announc
ed. “It didn’t go well. They said I could have landed in a nearby airport and accused me of costing them thousands of dollars. They…” I faltered. “They’re taking me to court for all this.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Penny said in a cold, almost businesslike tone, halting five feet from me.
“This is the part where you say why you’re confused,” I remarked, unwilling to share what I believed about her reaction. It wasn’t anywhere near what I expected, but I was curious to learn the reasons behind her confusion.
“I got a job offer this morning,” she declared, her posture remaining stiff. “Assistant editor in chief at the Beverly Hills Chronicle. I’ll be making nearly four times what I make at the Bulletin, plus benefits. I don’t know what to do. I mean, I’ll have to give up everything and everyone I know here, including you.”
“Sure you know what to do,” I disagreed, throwing a glass of irony down at her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, a touch of discomfort in her tone.
“It means you’ve already decided to leave New York,” I explained, my voice stiff as I strolled nearer. “You can lie to yourself all you like, Penny. You can’t lie to me.”
“I am not lying!” She protested, furrowing her brow.
“Yes, you are!” I shouted. “You’re colder tonight than you were on our first date. Where’s the woman who lunged at me in New Orleans? Do you see her anywhere? Because I don’t. I just told you I could to prison, for God’s sake, and all you had to say was ‘I’m sorry to hear that’? Wow…” I gave four sarcastic claps. “Thanks for the support. It really means a lot to me.”
“What did you do when I told you I could move to L.A.?” She posed the question, her tone remaining the same. “Were you happy for me? Because I didn’t see that. I just saw a man concerned about his own future. In fact, he’s so worried that I doubt he even heard me.”
“I heard you just fine,” I countered, the volume in my voice dropping. “Beverly Hills Chronicle, assistant editor in chief, you’ll be making almost four times the money you’re making at the Bulletin. I am worried about my future, darling. People threatened with prison sentences tend to do that. By the way, I seem to recall you saying something like ‘We’ll fight them.’ How the hell are we going to do that if you move to L.A.?”
“You’re right,” Penny admitted. “I’m going to keep my word. I’ll write a piece on United’s practices first thing tomorrow morning. I just need a few more details.”
“You’ll do nothing!” I cried, my face twisting into a mixed expression of frustration and anger. “Is that how you think you would help me? By writing a story? I wanted you by my side, Penny. I wanted you to help me through this. But…” I paused and bit my lower lip. “It looks like you’ve got other priorities.”
“Jake…”
“Goodbye, Penny,” I interrupted, raising my voice over hers. With her lips parted, she stared at me. Silence lingered in the air while I tried to fight back the tears. For all intents and purposes, the chatterbox, the woman who loved to rant on and on, had no comeback for me. In those painful moments, I was able to figure out what her true feelings were for me. Her body language hinted at them earlier, but now, they were as clear as daylight. Penny had neither the will, nor the desire to give me a single word. She frowned for a second or two, and then turned around.
Fake.
Yes, that’s what I meant to say as she climbed back up the stairs. I was dying to yell at her some more, and call her that name, among other things. But would that make any difference? Would it change the feeling of betrayal that was already starting to cut me like a knife? No. A potential outburst on my part would just satisfy her. I bet she would have loved watching me break down, like she had done in that swimming pool in Miami. Nevertheless, this was the difference between us. I never enjoyed her suffering. I thought it was a bit too much, but I never took pleasure from it.
I waited for ten to fifteen minutes to make sure she had cleared the Promenade, and left the spot. Most likely, I wouldn’t go back to that iconic place, no matter its beauty. It was filled with memory, along with a painful realization which hit me that night. In spite of what I used to believe about Penny, she wasn’t Caitlyn’s match. Caitlyn loved me with all her heart and soul. For more than three years, she was the perfect partner. Penny on the other hand was a cheap substitute. She was just someone who cowered in the face of adversity, and chose to abandon me when things got rough.
I entered my car, understanding that there was only one person in the world who could help me. Michael had been a good friend over the years. There was a strong bond between us, but paying him a visit wouldn’t avail either of us. That person had nothing to do with the aviation industry, but had everything to do with life experience. The deep grumble of the Corvette’s engine rushed into my ears as I slammed the throttle. Within minutes, I would leave New York behind, in the hope that I would find a way out of my predicament.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Penny
So, it’s over between us? Just like that?
These questions came to mind for the next five days, every time I thought about Jake. The positive answers didn’t do much to unburden me of my confusion. If anything, they added to it, because this was not the end I wished for our relationship. Actually, I didn’t want it to end at all. If Jake was just a little more supportive, I would ask him to move to L.A. with me. My feelings for him were very strong indeed. There was no reason for us to break up. Unfortunately however, he preferred hiding behind his own drama. My heart went out to him. I did wish to provide a helping hand, but Jake wanted more than I could give him.
To be honest, the scenario of our breakup had crossed my mind. And in that scenario, my eyes didn’t remain dry. I cried rivers of tears, because he was… Well, there’s no other way of putting it: he was the man of my dreams; tall, masculine, unbearably handsome, sensitive and an amazing lover. In Ava’s opinion, I was still in a state of denial. Our breakup hadn’t sunk in. Once it did, sadness would overwhelm me, and help me realize my mistake. Oh Ava… The end of my relationship with Jake was a lot of things.
Bad. Untimely. Unexpected.
A mistake? No.
The truth was he didn’t need me in his life. I would unravel it, just like I had done while we were dating. Maybe he didn’t want to admit it, but I had been testing his patience to the limit. My stupid outburst on Thanksgiving was a perfect example. And to me, his last request that night on the Brooklyn Promenade was absurd. To have someone help you through a tough situation, they’d have to be hard as nails. They’d have to be able to keep a cool head, not make rush decisions and exhibit—a lot of—patience. In other words, that person had to be every single thing that I couldn’t be.
Walking alongside my friend, we headed for the exit of the Bulletin’s building on that cold, rainy, Thursday night. Moist air came through the door as it slid open sideways, a group of four people coming in. I fished into my purse for my umbrella, when my cell phone rang with an incoming call. The 603 area code puzzled me.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Green. I’m Dr. Gene Humphreys, I’m calling from Parkland Medical Center in New Hampshire.” The male voice on the other end of the line confirmed the origin of the phone call. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. Jake Turner was involved in a car accident, earlier in the afternoon. He didn’t make it.”
“No…” a gasp of utter despair left my lips at the news. “No!” I cried, drawing the attention of bystanders, my cell phone slipping from my grasp. I thrust my arms up and cupped my temples, elbows pointing forward. Tipping my head back, I shut my eyes as Ava picked my phone back up.
“Hello? This is Ava Briggs, I’m Ms. Green’s friend. Who is this?”
“My name is Dr. Gene Humphreys, ma’am. I work at Parkland Medical Center in New Hampshire. Your friend’s name was Jake Turner’s number one contact.”
“Was?” Ava squeaked, shifting her gaze to me.
“Yes.
Mr. Turner was involved in a high-speed car accident, Ms. Briggs. He crashed into a light pole outside Parkland at ninety miles an hour. We tried our best, but I’m afraid there wasn’t much we could do. He had suffered a variety of crushing fractures, and his body was just too badly burned.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“Please tell me that was a prank call,” I begged, tears pooling in my eyes. Ava’s silence and her sad expression did all the talking for her, confirming my worst fears. I fell to my knees, my heart plunging into a downward spiral. A dark shadow enveloped my soul, as Jake’s proud stature flashed back into my mind. I would never hear that enchanting voice again. I would never catch a glimpse of that handsome face. For me, all that was left now, was seeing him in a coffin. Pale. Not moving. Drained of life. I burst into loud, wailing sobs, dropping my face into my hands. The marble floor in front of me became a blur of gray, with the occasional addition of black, white and dark-blue from the clothes of people going back and forth. Every inhale came out in the form of a cry that resounded throughout the lobby as my gut-wrenching pain shook my whole body. And each of those cries grew in volume and intensity, fueled by the agony that tore me up inside. My senses were numbed, as if I was being squashed under a massive, invisible foot. In a demonstration of cruelty, it allowed me to breathe, just so I could continue to live with the horrible news of Jake’s fate.
“Give us some space!” I recognized Ava’s voice, before my eyes snapped open. Curious bystanders had gathered around me. My gaze met quite a few pairs of legs, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Honey, can you walk?” She whispered in my ear.