“Yeah, she’s just coming back from lunch.”
“Send her into my office, please.” The intercom went silent.
Amy looked up at Rachel, acknowledging the terrified expression on her face. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Rach.”
“I hope not,” Rachel said, stepping away from the counter as she took a deep breath.
Grace’s whisper followed her into the office. “Come and see me as soon as you’re done!”
Rachel walked back, maybe feeling a little more confident than she should have considering Michelle’s theatrical exit. But Lucy had already told her that her job wasn’t in danger. And this had only been the first full workday since they last chatted. Rachel was admittedly confused, though. She hadn’t expected to see Lucy for another week at least, given how many times she’d postponed her latest evaluation.
Rachel took the last few steps to Lucy’s office with her back straight. She had remembered what Lucy said during their last conversation; she was a little embarrassed facing Lucy three days later, being separated from Joe. No, no — that’s Mr. Pavon. Lucy looked up, a forced smile on her face. Without uttering a word, she motioned for Rachel to sit.
Rachel regarded the editor-in-chief with concern. “Is everything all right, Lucy?”
Lucy sat back and briefly studied a manila folder. Rachel thought she saw her name on it, but Lucy had folded it and put it back on her desk before she could get a good look at it.
Taking a deep breath, Lucy stated on an exhale: “Michelle is no longer with Equinox Publishing.”
“Excuse me?” Rachel responded, unable to control her reaction.
Lucy continued, “As of right now, I am down a junior editor. In another month, I’ll be down a senior editor as well since I fully intend to go ahead with opening the London office. In addition to that, the Pavon book is down a team member.”
Rachel took a deep breath, trying to shake off the wave of nausea that washed over her at the mention of his name.
“How can I help, Lucy? I mean, what do you need from me?”
Lucy looked up, a smiling playing at the corner of her lips. “I’m glad you said that.”
There was a brief pause, and Rachel watched Lucy with bated breath. She had an idea of what Lucy was going to ask of her, but she wanted badly to hear it. Say it, already!
“Here’s the thing. I had been planning for the last couple of weeks to give you the junior editor position at the end of your probation. As it turns out, I didn’t actually need that long to make my decision about you. You’re honest, hardworking, and passionate about the job. Lack of experience aside, those are the precise traits I look for in a member of my editorial staff.”
Rachel nodded, anticipation dragging her forward as she sat on the edge of her seat. Lucy kept her dangling for a moment, making her wait a little longer for it. She knew what was coming.
Finally, Lucy let her off the hook. “If you’re amenable, I’d like to start you as junior editor immediately. Grace will still be your coach until next month, at which time she’s going to be heading up the London office.”
Given the crappy state of the weekend that had passed, Rachel wanted to jump in the air like someone out of a ’80s car commercial. She was nodding before Lucy had finished speaking.
“Yes! Absolutely, Lucy — you can count on me. Yes.”
Lucy bit back a smile. “Thank you, Rachel. You’re helping me out more than you realize. Rest assured, I’ll make sure you have all the support you need to make this transition as easily as possible. And I’m sorry it’s coming so unexpectedly.”
Rachel shook her head, her smile growing by the second. “It’s all right. This is, honestly, all I’ve wanted since I started working here. Thank you for the opportunity, Lucy. I won’t let you down.”
“I already know that,” Lucy replied with an admiring smile. “There’s one more thing that I trust you can handle as well.”
Rachel was on cloud nine, ready to accept any assignment that Lucy could possibly invent. “What’s that?”
“I need your help on the Pavon book again. You’re the only other one in the editorial department who’s close enough to the project.”
Rachel went from feeling as light as a feather to as heavy as a boulder in a matter of seconds. Her facial expression must have reflected her change in mood, because Lucy gave her a worried look.
“Rachel?”
She looked up at Lucy. Trust you, right? “Joe and I are … well, we’re … ”
Lucy tilted her head sympathetically. “Oh, no — Rachel, I’m sorry. Don’t worry about it then, I’ll take care of it.”
Rachel took a deep breath. Don’t be that girl! “No, Lucy. You know what, I’ll do it. When’s the next meeting?”
A concerned look on her face, Lucy shook her head. “No, Rachel — don’t. You don’t have to torture yourself for the sake of impressing me. We only have one more meeting this Friday before we go to the printers.”
“Are you sure it’s just one more meeting?”
Lucy nodded. “We’ve gotten through all of the rewrites, all the corrections, and everything that we can possibly tweak and fix has been tended to. It’s just a matter of agreeing on all of the pages, the artwork, and signing off on them.”
Rachel stared at her hands for a moment before looking up. “I’ll be okay by next week. And if there’s anything you want me to do for the book between now and then, let me know. I’ll handle it.”
“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Rachel nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I do. My career is just as important to me as … well, as he is. I can’t let a break-up paralyze me.”
Finally, Lucy conceded. “Okay, Rachel. Let me know if it gets too uncomfortable to handle.”
Rachel nodded and stood. “I will.”
Lucy followed suit. “It’s a little unceremonious, I know — but Michelle’s office is yours now. You can start transferring your things there tomorrow. I’ll have someone clean it out by the end of the day today.”
“A little awkward, but okay — it has to be done, doesn’t it?”
Lucy walked around and patted her on the shoulder. “That it does. Congratulations, Rachel. And don’t worry, heartache only lasts for a little while.
Rachel huffed weakly. “I hope you’re right.
Lucy smiled. “I said to trust me, didn’t I? Now, get back to work — I’m sure Grace is dying to know what’s going on.”
Rachel gave Lucy a sincere smile. “Thanks again.”
“All things considered, Rachel — you deserve it, and I truly mean that. I’m just sorry that it came on the heels of so much drama.”
Lucy showed her out, walking down to the lobby, muttering something about key fobs. Biting back the joyous shout she wanted to release, Rachel made a left and did her best high-heel-quick-step over to Grace’s office to tell her what was ultimately, the best news she’d heard since she started at Equinox.
Chapter Twelve
The weekend after Joe walked out on Rachel was a long one for him. Miserable barely described the state in which Joe roamed his lonely one-bedroom apartment on West One Hundred Sixteenth Street. For all of Saturday and Sunday, he hadn’t even thought to wear pants. He trudged around his apartment weakly, clad in nothing but boxer shorts. And all he seemed to do was stuff his face. His rubbed his tummy absently, shuffling with his back arched as he went back to bed after the most recent refrigerator raid.
Joe couldn’t deny the fact that he missed Rachel — from the moment he walked out. In fact, his phone lay shattered on the floor near the television in the living room. He’d missed her so much that he dialed and hung up six times before finally launching the phone across the apartment, where it collided with the wall and busted. Disgusted with himself, he glared at the phone for o
nly a moment before taking a shower and going right back into the bedroom to lie down mournfully and drown in self-pity.
Joe had been thoroughly embarrassed by what Rachel had done. It was so much more hurtful than lying to him about some ridiculous job. She’d lied to him about who she was, and pulled the strings of their relationship like some sort of puppet master. He wondered half-heartedly if he would have felt the way he had if Kirby hadn’t told him to “go for it.” Joe immediately decided that was unfair; of course he would have felt the same, with or without Kirby’s advice.
It wasn’t Kirby he’d seen in the coffeehouse. The clumsy, painfully sexy girl holding her latte while she stared up at that community corkboard was Rachel. The girl who played it distant when he hoped she might have been swooning on the inside was Rachel. And the girl whose kiss sent his heart racing was Rachel. With or without Kirby, he knew how he felt about her from day one. He wouldn’t have pursued her otherwise. Like he said to her on Friday, he just wanted someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy.
So why was he moping around the house in his underwear? He couldn’t even begin to understand. Was it a matter of pride that kept him from calling? Was it a matter of principle? Or was he just letting his bruised ego run the show? Joe wasn’t entirely sure that he could forgive her. At the same time, he wasn’t entirely sure he was still angry with her anymore. Either way, he couldn’t go back first. He couldn’t chase after her — it just wasn’t allowed, plain and simple.
Joe tried talking it through, rather loudly, as he lay in bed for yet another hour. He was glad he didn’t have a roommate to terrify — his bedroom remained open as he stretched his arms into the air, arguing back and forth with his wounded ego.
“But she apologized, what more do you want?”
“I want her to have not done it!”
“Too late, dummy — it’s done.”
He knew there was a point in his senseless ranting somewhere. “Do I love Rachel? Yes. Did she hurt me by lying? Yes! Can I forgive her?”
Joe laid there, his hands dropping back to the bed. He couldn’t honestly convince himself that he’d forgiven her. But damn, did he want an answer! A growl escaped his lips as he flopped onto his other side.
Frustrated with himself, he tried to get some rest in the hopes that it would help clear his mind. But even his dreams were filled with two versions of himself arguing, trying to decide whether or not soothing a bruised ego was worth losing the love of his life. When he opened his eyes, his back killing him as a result of the tossing and turning, it was early afternoon on Monday.
Joe rose from the bed with a yawn, heading to the bathroom to get a good look at his reflection. He was pale, tired-looking, and his hair stuck out at odd angles. All this and heartbreak wasn’t exactly what he felt like contending with today. Lucy had set up an appointment with a photographer to get some photos for the book’s dust jacket and for any press kits that Equinox would be sending out. Splashing cold water on his face, he told himself begrudgingly that pants and a shirt were going to be necessary for this one.
• • •
He arrived at the photography studio just a few minutes early. He took the stairs to the fourth floor, two at a time, just for something to do. Only slightly out of breath when he got to the top, he decided as an afterthought that maybe it was time to step up the cardio. Pushing his hair back, he stepped into the hallway from the stairwell. Finding the studio door quickly, he lifted a hand and knocked loudly.
He put an ear to the door and heard music playing. Joe could’ve sworn he heard Jewel’s music blasting through the space, as if her soft wispy voice warranted head banging. He knocked again, continuing until his knuckles smarted. Suddenly the door flew open and a surly face glared out at him. She had ash blond hair, sapphire blue eyes, and a lot of attitude. Her hair was tied carelessly atop her head, and she wore a black tank top that showed off her toned shoulders and arms. Below the waist, she wore ripped and faded blue jeans with black sneakers. Catching Joe giving her the once over, she shot him a dour look.
“Seriously?” Her head was tilted as she held her reproachful stare.
She turned away abruptly, letting the door swing toward his face. Joe caught the door with his hand and stepped in.
“Lucy actually hired you,” he muttered directly behind her, loud enough for her to hear.
Little Miss Photog ignored him. Brusquely, she instructed, “Sit in the make-up chair, please.”
Joe took a quick glance around, seeing no less than four chairs just sitting in random parts of the studio. “And where would that be?”
She refused to drop the attitude. “That would be the one in front of the make-up table.”
Feeling a little foolish, he lowered himself into the chair just a few feet away from him. The Ice Queen photographer approached him with a snarky expression.
“Find it okay?”
He frowned. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Joe.”
She thrust her hand toward him as if she were trying, with great difficulty, to be cordial. “I know who you are. I’m Camille.”
The recognition of her name hit him like a ton of bricks as he shook her hand. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Camille turned away and began to set up his backdrop and find a stool for him to sit on.
Cautiously, he reached for a make-up bib and tied it around his neck. “So um, this is nice and awkward. How’d this happen?”
“I got the job when you first signed with Equinox. I almost shut it down after this past weekend.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Camille turned, extended her arms and gave him a mocking bow like the sassy bitch she was. “Because I’m a professional.”
A corner of Joe’s mouth turned up in an amused grin. “Oh, yeah — totally got that.”
Camille approached him quickly and grabbed a blush brush off of the counter, brandishing it in front of his face. “Listen, buddy. I can make you look like a clown in less than — ”
“No, no,” Joe interrupted, holding his hands up in surrender as he fought a smile. “Not necessary. You win.”
Silently, she began to apply make-up to his face. Camille looked like she was trying really hard to stay mad. He’d heard plenty about Camille from Rachel. The mere thought of her name sent his stomach into a spin. Taking a deep breath, Joe considered how close to Rachel he actually was at that very moment. He watched her for a moment, trying to gauge what Camille’s reaction would be if he dared to ask.
“How is she?”
Cami’s face softened as she pressed a foundation sponge to the side of his face. She frowned, and her eyes met his. “Heartbroken.”
The word stung. “I am too, you know.”
Camille took a breath, steeling herself and plastering an indifferent look on her face. “I could care less how you feel at this point.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Joe sniffed. “Forgive me if I think your opinion is a bit biased.”
Camille shook her head; her eyes darkened though her face remained casual. “I don’t care what you think, either.”
Joe averted his eyes downward, silently berating himself for actually looking for the sympathy vote. But he was allowed to feel pain, wasn’t he? Heartbroken or not, she did lie, didn’t she? He looked up again, determined to press the subject.
“She shouldn’t have lied.”
Camille sighed and threw her brush down onto the table in silent frustration. She walked away from him and stood behind her camera, muttering, “You’re done.”
Joe yanked the bib from around his neck and discarded it on the chair. He followed Camille, walking past her to the backdrop and taking a seat on the stool she had provided.
“Straighten your back please.”
Joe did as he was told, adjusting his neck as Camille’s shutter clicked aw
ay. Running a hand through his hair, he looked into the lens thoughtfully.
“It’s not like I don’t love her.”
“Stop messing with your hair,” Camille instructed sourly.
His face stuck in a pensive expression, Joe continued to stare at the camera as Camille pretended she hadn’t heard him at all. She looked up from the camera, took it off of the tripod and stepped closer. It almost felt like an assault as she approached, the click of the shutter getting louder with every step. Finally, she stopped. Camille stared at him for a moment, considering him.
She sighed, and then put the camera back in front of her face. “She loves you too, Joe. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have said anything.”
Stepping backward, Camille kept snapping pictures. Joe’s head dropped and he took a deep breath in response. Camille snapped her fingers impatiently.
“Up here!”
Joe looked up, and Camille continued snapping pictures. She had paused to return the camera to its tripod. Jewel’s “You Were Meant for Me” played in the background, setting an uncomfortable air for him as he imagined that Rachel was singing the chorus to him.
“Can we maybe change the music?”
Camille studied him momentarily. “No. Did you just roll out of bed and come here? You look like hell.”
Joe tilted his head to one side and gave her a sarcastic grin. “Professional, huh?”
He thought he saw a ghost of a smile cross Camille’s face. She approached him and adjusted his hair, then straightened his shirt along the shoulders before returning to the camera.
“You know what, Joe? I told her not to tell you about Kirby.”
He drew himself back, slightly startled. Camille snapped a shot. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I knew you’d leave her. She thinks she doesn’t deserve you because she lied about her night job. So I told her that it was you who didn’t deserve her.”
Again, Joe was surprised at Camille’s candor. “And why would you say that?”
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