It Was Always You (Love Chronicles Book 1)

by Ashelyn Drake

  Aria comes walking out of Mr. Weston’s office with a smile on her face. “It was great to meet you, and thank you again for the opportunity.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Carmichael. Someone will be in touch soon.” Even though his words are generic, I can see the glimmer in his eyes. Aria blew him away. I smile, hoping Weston will be inclined to change his mind about hiring me.

  Aria stops when she sees me. “Nate. Hi.”

  I stand up and whisper, “Looks like you wowed him.”

  She turns around to face Weston, who is still smiling at her. She gives a small wave before turning back to me. “If this wasn’t fixed, I’d be feeling really good about that interview.”

  I reach for her elbow. “He could change his mind. He’d be stupid not to.”

  Her eyes lock on mine, and I think she might cave. She might drop this wall she’s constructed between us. “Good luck, not that you need it.”

  “Did you open my gift?” I ask as she starts walking away.

  She shakes her head. “I haven’t opened any yet. I spent the weekend visiting my parents.”

  She went to Delaware? “Oh. How are they?”

  “Fine.” She motions over my shoulder. “I think Mr. Weston is waiting for you.”

  “Aria.” I step toward her. “Open the gift.”

  She nods and leaves the office.

  I turn around and walk over to Mr. Weston. “I’m Nate Dixon.”

  “Mr. Dixon, pleasure to meet you. I’m Paul Weston. Please”—he motions for me to enter his office—“come inside.”

  I look back over my shoulder quickly, but Aria’s already gone. Then I step into the office. Everything about The Sentinel is bigger than Priority News. Not that I wasn’t anticipating that, but it’s a little overwhelming. Awards hang on the wall behind Mr. Weston’s desk. The paper does well; that’s for sure.

  “So, Mr. Dixon—”

  “Please, call me Nate,” I say, sitting down in the dark brown leather chair opposite Weston’s desk.

  “Nate, I’ve heard many great things about you.” He picks up my resume, which I faxed over on Friday. “Team player, hard worker, graduated with honors, four years experience—most of which is editorial. Tell me, how did you move up the ranks so quickly?”

  “I have to thank Mr. Monohan for that. He knew my aspirations, and thankfully he was nice enough to help me achieve them.”

  Weston laughs. “You’re being modest, Nate. Terry told me how you’re always logging extra hours and helping people outside of your department.”

  I fold my hands in my lap. “I don’t have to tell you newspapers are about teamwork.”

  “No, you don’t. But it’s more than that. One of your colleagues spoke very highly of you this morning.”

  I know it wasn’t Oliver, but what would possess Aria to do that when she knows this is all a formality and I already have the job? “I work with great people. Aria, for example.”

  “I have to admit I was impressed with her. If she had more editorial experience, I might have a difficult decision to make.”

  “Did you know the other staff writers were sending their pieces to Aria before forwarding them to their editor?”

  He cocks his head. “Why?”

  “Because she’s an amazing editor, and everyone saw the potential she had. She’s a natural leader. When problems arise, Aria always has a solution. It never mattered that it wasn’t her job to find one. She did it because she loves that paper and the people she works with.”

  Weston leans forward, resting his arms on the desk between us. “Nate, I have to say this was a very interesting interview process for me today. Only one interviewee actually lobbied for himself. The other two spent their time arguing for each other to get the position. Why is that?”

  I straighten in my seat and meet his gaze. “Mr. Weston, let me be clear that I’d love to work for you. Your reputation and the reputation of the paper are phenomenal, and I’d be lucky to be a small part of it. But I don’t want this job without earning it.”

  “What makes you think you haven’t?” He laces his fingers in front of his face, his elbows resting on the desk. “I’ve read your former work when you were a staff writer. I’ve seen the ads you’ve designed. You can do it all: layout, design, write, and edit. And you come highly recommended by Terry. Why wouldn’t I hire you over a less experienced but quality writer and editor like Ms. Carmichael or a pompous ass despite his writing talent like Strauss?”

  I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.

  “The reason this paper is so successful is because I hire the best. Do you really believe Ms. Carmichael would do a better job as my managing editor than you?”

  “She’d do just as good a job as I could.”

  “Really?” He leans back in his chair. “Let me throw out a hypothetical situation. The paper is ready to go to print, but one of the ads isn’t positioned correctly. We’re on deadline to send the issue to the printer and need an immediate fix. Would Ms. Carmichael know how to fix it herself?”

  “That’s not fair. She’s never worked with ads before.”

  He holds both palms face up. “Therein lies my point. You’ve done it all.”

  “But she could learn.”

  “In the mere minutes she has to correct the issue before it needs to be emailed to the printer?”

  I don’t feel the need to answer, but he dips his head in my direction, clearly wanting me to say it aloud. “No.”

  “I like that you’re willing to go to bat for your coworkers. The staff here will definitely appreciate that. I can tell you they aren’t happy that I’m bringing in an outsider instead of promoting from within.”

  I didn’t think about the trouble that could cause. I’ll be walking in here as a hated man.

  “I have no doubt you’ll show them why I hired you, though.” He studies my face. “That is, if we’re in agreement.”

  He’s offering me the job right on the spot. God, what if Aria stuck around and is in the parking lot? I’ll have to tell her she drove out here for nothing. At least if he gives it a day to mull over, she might believe she made the decision difficult for him.

  “Nate?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Great.” He stands up and extends a hand to me, thinking I’m agreeing.

  My mind whirls. Do I tell him I was only letting him know I was listening? I take his hand and shake it.

  “Let’s sign some paperwork, and then I’ll introduce you to your coworkers.” He’s all smiles as he calls his secretary and has her bring in the paperwork. Monohan doesn’t even have a secretary, which shows how much smaller Priority News is. I’m in a daze as the business manager, a short man with glasses named Liam Marks, goes over everything with me. I only break out of my haze when Liam mentions my salary, which is double what I’m currently making.

  “If everything I’ve explained makes sense to you, you can go ahead and sign where the Post-it flags are.” He motions to the bright yellow Post-it arrows indicating where my signature is needed.

  “When would I be starting?” I ask, trying to still the pen in my shaking hand.

  “Monday. That will give you one week to get packed up and find an apartment here,” Weston says. “Will that suffice?”

  One week. How do I pack up my entire life in one week? He could give me a year and I still wouldn’t have the first clue how to say good-bye to Aria.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Aria

  I squeeze the small wrapped box in my hand for the hundredth time since I got home from my interview. I opened all my other presents first. Most were small gifts—gift cards to Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, and every coffee shop in a twenty-mile radius. My friends and coworkers know me well. Ashley and Neil went bigger, though, getting me a new iPad since mine got a crack in the screen about a month ago and I never got a new one.

  I even wrote out thank-you cards, and seriously who does that in this day and age? With nothing else left to open and no
cards left to write, I stare at the silver wrapping paper and miniature teal bow. I know Nate didn’t wrap this himself. The one and only time he ever wrapped a gift for me, the paper had been cut too short and didn’t cover the entire package. There was also so much tape on it I spent twenty minutes trying to get it open. I smile at the memory.

  I put the package down and walk to the kitchen, noticing the clock on the microwave reads 11:46. Is it too early to have a drink? Not sure I can open the gift without one, I pour myself a glass of merlot. I take a healthy sip, letting the liquid warm my insides, and then head back to the couch. The package is mocking me with its impeccable wrapping. Did Charlotte wrap this? No. That’s a stupid thought. She’s a random girl Nate is dating. Sleeping with even. God, was he sleeping with her when we...?

  I take another long drink of Merlot. Then I shake my head and place the wine on the coffee table. “This is insane. It’s a damn present.” I pick it up and tear the paper off. The teal Eldridge Designs box gives me pause. Nate bought me a one-of-a-kind gift. Tommy Eldridge was a good friend of Nate’s in college. I haven’t seen him in years. Probably since graduation.

  I lift the lid on the box to reveal a black velvet necklace box. Nate bought me jewelry, and not a pin or something that screamed “best friends.” He got me a necklace. Why? I open it and see the silver dragonfly with amethyst and teal gemstones. It look so much like...

  I carry the box into my room and stand before the full-length mirror on the back of my door. Turning around and lifting the back of my shirt, I study the dragonfly tattoo. “It’s almost a perfect match.” Except Tommy used teal gemstones for the eyes and amethyst gemstones to mark the spots on the wings. My eyes fill with tears. How did Nate do this? I always keep my tattoo covered. The only time anyone sees it is when I go swimming, but to remember it in this much detail...

  My breathing quickens as I go for my phone on the living room couch. I dial Nate and hold the phone to my ear, the necklace resting in the palm of my free hand.

  “Hey,” Nate answers, his voice full of surprise.

  “How? How did you do it?”

  “You opened the gift,” he says, a smile in his voice.

  “It’s a perfect match.”

  “That was the point.”

  “But how?” My mind drifts to the night we spent together. He cuddled me afterward, and his fingers trailed over the dragonfly, tracing it. There’s no way he had this made after that night. Tommy wouldn’t have been able to get it finished in time for my party.

  “Does it matter how? Whether or not you like it is all that’s important.”

  How can he say that? The gift is so personal, intimate even. “Nate, tell me how you did this.”

  He sighs on the other end. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and get you something else.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I just want to know how you matched it so perfectly.”

  Another sigh. “You fell asleep one night while we were watching TV. I saw the tattoo and thought you might like a necklace to match.”

  “Did you take a picture of it while I was sleeping?”

  “It’s not as creepy as it sounds. I swear. I only took a close-up of the tattoo. No one who saw it would even know the tattoo belonged to you.”

  If anyone else had done it, I’d be freaking out. But it’s Nate. I trust him with my life. “I had no idea.”

  “When I saw it that night, it reminded me of how long we’ve known each other. You got the tattoo without ever telling anyone you were doing it. I remember you showing up at my dorm room one day with your back bandaged up.”

  I remember. He wanted to take me to the emergency room because he thought I’d hurt myself.

  “I never understood why you went by yourself to get it.”

  “It was a right of passage of some sort. Me coming to terms with the fact that I was growing up and sprouting my own wings.” I wanted to do it on my own. Nate isn’t into tattoos, and I’d been afraid he’d try to talk me out of it.

  “Are you angry with me?”

  “No. I love it.” I sit down on the couch and bring my legs up under me. “How did your interview go?”

  He’s quiet for a moment, so I know exactly what he’s going to say.

  “Congratulations. When do you start?”

  “Monday.”

  “Wow. That’s soon. Are you looking for a place before you come home?”

  “Right now I’m sitting at a Dunkin Donuts, drowning my sorrows in a tall black coffee and a chocolate glazed donut.”

  “What sorrows? You just landed your dream job.” I wipe the tear that’s streaking down my cheek. “I’m happy for you, Nate. You deserve this.”

  “Charlotte is my replacement,” he blurts out.

  “What?” He got his booty call a job at Priority News? He can’t be serious.

  “We aren’t dating. Monohan asked me to show her around town and the paper. You were out on Friday when she started.”

  I breathe easier, knowing Nate wasn’t turning into the type of guy who would sleep with any pretty face.

  “I want to thank you for talking me up to Paul Weston,” he says when I don’t respond.

  “He told you that?” I squeeze the dragonfly in my palm. I still don’t know how I wound up talking about Nate so much during my interview. I went there to show Mr. Weston I could do the job, but everything kept coming back to Nate. As much as I don’t want to admit Mr. Monohan was right about recommending one of us over another, Nate is the most qualified for the position. He deserves this job.

  It takes me a moment to realize Nate is laughing. “The funny thing is, I spent my interview talking you up.”

  “Really?” I lean my head back on the couch. “Weston must have thought we were both crazy. Who interviews like that, and let alone two in one day?” My stomach hurts from laughing so hard.

  “Only us, I’m sure.”

  “Do you need help packing?” I ask, once we’ve both gotten it out of our systems.

  “I won’t say no to you coming over and keeping me company. We’ve got the day off, right?”

  I wasn’t expecting him to agree. And it’s not that I want to spend my day boxing up my best friend’s life so he can move away from me. In fact, it’s the last thing I want to do. But I need to see Nate. I need to soak up as much time with him as I possibly can before Monday.

  “I’ll bring pizza. See you in thirty.” I hang up and get changed out of my interview clothes. You can’t exactly pack up an apartment while wearing a suit dress. I opt for khaki shorts and a navy blue tank top. I twist my hair up and secure it with a clip. Finally, I secure the dragonfly necklace around my neck. It’s not until I’m walking out the door that I realize I forgot to put on flip-flops. I grab them from the shoe tray by the door and step out with my purse in hand.

  “Hey, Aria,” Michelle says. “Off from work today?”

  “Yeah, I went on an interview this morning.” I lock the door behind me and trail Michelle to the elevator.

  “An interview? Will you be moving?”

  Michelle’s been eyeing up my apartment for years since hers doesn’t have a bathtub. Only a walk-in shower. Mine also has a better view.

  “No. I didn’t get the job.”

  “Better luck next time.” Yeah, better luck for her. “Of course, I would miss seeing Nate around here.”

  “Well, actually you still will. He got the job and is moving away.”

  “Oh no.” She pouts.

  We take the elevator down to the lobby and part ways. And not a moment too soon. I couldn’t take another second of her telling me how “close” she and Nate are. The only place they’re close is in her imagination.

  I phone Dominic’s Pizza and order a large half-pepperoni pie so it’s ready when I get there. I’m on autopilot until I park at Nate’s apartment complex. The gray façade never looked so cold and uninviting. This might be the last time I step inside his place. The last time we share a pizza. I’m not ready
to say good-bye to him.

  I carry the pizza through the front door and up the stairs, delaying the inevitable. Facing Nate and not telling him how I really feel is going to be harder than ever. Part of me wants to confess in the hope that he’ll stay when he learns how much I care about him, and not just as my friend. But the rational side of me knows I can’t do that to him. As his best friend, I have to encourage him to pursue his dreams. This job is good for him. For his career. He needs to go, no matter how much it will break my heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nate

  I pour the last of the wine into Aria’s glass. This is the third bottle we’ve polished off. Most of my packing still remains to be done, but I don’t care. Spending the day with Aria was exactly what I needed. Neither of us mentioned the job or the awkwardness that’s been building between us. For one blissful afternoon and evening, we were our old selves, enjoying each other’s company until well after the sun went down.

  “I should go home,” Aria says. “We both have to get up for work in”—she looks at her phone, tips her head back, and laughs—“three hours.”

  “No. That can’t be right.” I reach for her phone. “You must be holding this thing upside down.”

  “I think you’re upside down,” she says, leaning back against the couch. “At least you look it. How much did we drink?”

  “Too much. You can’t drive like this.”

  “No, I really can’t. I’ll have to take a cab.”

  “Crash here. You can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  She shakes her head. “No way. I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. You barely fit on this couch.” She spreads her arms out to mimic the size of the couch and winds up whacking me in the head. “Sorry.” She covers her mouth with her hand.