Vacancy: A Love Story

by Tracy Ewens

  “How’s it going in here?”

  “That box is file, that one is scan, and the one over there, the one that is overflowing, is garbage. You honestly can’t keep living like this.”

  “Like what?”

  Hollis blinked the dust from her eyes and spread her arms, trying to encompass the entire ordered mess. “Like these things aren’t important, like this is all easy. It’s not.”

  Uncle Mitch picked up the cat that was once again back on the other chair and took a seat.

  “Why do I feel like the tables have turned and I’m the karate kid?” He smiled and propped his feet up on the corner of the desk opposite Hollis.

  She shook her head and smiled a little. Tension pulsed at her back, her jaw clenched, and Hollis recognized her foul mood had more to do with her recent visitor than it did with some stacks of paper. She’d enjoyed creating some order, but Reese had been to the cove, her cove, and that made her uneasy. Not that she couldn’t deal with him, because he was a “minor player” even according to his own boss, but it was the blending of the two—past and present—that was bothering her. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t returned in all these years… because she was somehow encapsulating this time in her life, their life.

  “Okay, so this is the last pile.” Hollis gestured to the largest pile in the center of the desk. “I’ve fixed the scanner, so you can get back to making these receipts disappear, but you also need to go through this stack.”

  “Great. I’ll look that over.” He poured their iced tea.

  “Now. You need to look over it now so we can finish this. Also, I’ve set up a karaoke night in the bar for Saturday. We’ll rent a machine for the first few nights, see how it goes, and if it sells, you should invest in your own. They’re not that expensive. Did you hire those two servers we interviewed?”

  “Yes. They can both start tomorrow.”

  “Perfect. They should be ready to go by Saturday. Trial by fire.”

  She switched seats with him, getting him back behind the desk that was, she would at least admit to herself, looking much better. Uncle Mitch huffed and tried to share another story, but she kept him on task and he began reviewing the pile under her watchful eye. Filled with a simple sense of accomplishment that, if she was honest, she hadn’t felt in her own job for years, Hollis took a sip of her iced tea and sat quietly as Uncle Mitch sorted out his… well, she supposed it was his past. The idea had her shaking her head as she opened her own laptop and wondered what surprises awaited her. Maybe she could somehow sort and shred a path through her dilemma too. The first e-mail read Mandatory Meeting. Hollis let a slow stream of air exit her lungs and highly doubted it would ever be that easy.

  Refilling their glasses of tea almost an hour later, Hollis had responded to several e-mails noting that she would be back in the office by ten o’clock the next day for the meeting. The investors were preparing to exercise the part of their agreement that allowed them to bring in oversight. Hollis could not let that happen. One of her other e-mails gave her a measure of hope: Zeke was having a “bit of a breakthrough,” as one of the consultants had put it. At last, a glimmer of good news. Now, all she had to do was hold off the circling suits for a little while longer.

  “This is all going to be okay,” she told herself, but it must have been out loud because Uncle Mitch looked up from over his reading glasses.

  “If you say so, Tots. Is it time for lunch yet?” He shook his head and sent another piece of paper through the shredder.

  She nodded despite the knot in her stomach. Closing her laptop and shutting her eyes, Hollis rubbed her temples and was reminded of a time when she quite literally slipped.

  She had thought she was drowning for a minute back then too. This was it, she was going to sink to the bottom of Tamales Bay, she remembered telling herself, which was as fitting a place as any to die even at sixteen. So much of her life, the happy parts, had been spent on the pier, so she might as well end it there too. Granted, it was a mere twelve feet at the high season, but people drowned in bathtubs, so this wouldn’t be quite as embarrassing as her teenage mind had thought.

  When she had slipped off the pier and fallen into the water one early morning after an argument with her parents about taking honors classes and her “inability to see the big picture,” Hollis hadn’t even bothered to frantically paddle or lunge back for the pier. She simply sank, allowing the weight of her body to fall past her shoulders and down to her feet. She watched as her dark hair swirled around her like one of those mermaids in a movie. The growth beneath the pier, filled with bright green and seashells, was so inviting, so alive, and yet all hidden below the surface. She reached out to touch it, but she was too far away. Water separated her and the life teeming below the pier. She wondered how long she had been underwater along with whether or not she’d twisted her ankle and what that might mean for field hockey practice, which was due to start in less than a month.

  Images of her sisters, her mother, and father passed by her as frozen snapshots of her brief teenage life. Hollis remembered smiling and feeling her body jerk a little, as if it had decided all on its own to swim to the surface. She needed to decide at that point if she was really going to die because her lungs began asking for breath, pissed they had to hold out so long. Arms stretched overhead, Hollis felt the water slide through her fingers as she pulled toward the blue-green surface, toward the early morning sunlight. It was so quiet. Her feet instinctively began propelling her upward. She’d almost reached the surface, stopping to drag her hand along the green life that had all but masked the below-the-surface wood of the pier.

  She was young and things weren’t so bad. Besides, she was far too selfish to end her life on her own. People needed her. Heck, the world needed her. She reached her hands toward the surface and then saw a burst of bubbles and what looked like underwater smoke as someone or something plunged into the water beside her. Someone had come to save her, probably Uncle Mitch because her parents were most likely still inside figuring out which boarding school they should ship her off to, she’d thought. Her uncle wasn’t much of a swimmer, so she should probably grab him on her way up if she was going to avoid a real Jeffries family tragedy. Reaching out, she held the muscled, water-slick arm. It was warm in the summer water, coursing with as much life as the algae, but smooth and strong. The arm wrapped around her waist and instead of feeling trapped, Hollis relaxed and instantly stopped paddling as if she’d already made it back onto the dock.

  Breaking the surface, her lungs clamored for breath as her skin prickled in the cool morning air. Her would-be rescuer was still holding her, his other arm outstretched and holding the dock. Having caught her breath, she blinked her eyes free of the droplets of water and lifted her arm to the dock in some minuscule effort to help keep them above water. Without a doubt, he had them, the both of them, but even back then Hollis was never one for being rescued. The instant she turned to face him, the moment he tossed the dark wet curtain of his hair off his face, she felt herself go back under. It was as if he’d let her go and she now had cement in her lungs. She became hyperaware of his body and that he was holding her, and her heart did one of those scrambling-and-backing-up routines she often saw in scary movies, right before the villain grabbed hold of an ankle and reduced the cast by one more. That morning, as Matt held her, she knew what it was to be loved outside the bonds of her family. He knew her, frequent fights and all, but when she’d slipped, gone under, he was somehow there and while she still liked knowing she could kick herself to the surface, she held on.

  “Okay, that’s the last one in this pile,” Uncle Mitch said, pulling Hollis from her memory.

  She opened her eyes, blinked up at the slowest ceiling fan she had ever seen, and wondered for the first time in a long time if Matt saw her now, knew she was drowning this time.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hollis arrived at The Bean the next morning and Matt almost didn’t recognize her. Her hair was silky and straight down her back.
She was in a black skirt and stockings. Like the lovesick idiot he was, his eyes followed the length of her sheer legs and wondered where those things ended and the lace began. Hollis had never been a lace kind of woman, she was sexier in cotton, but looking at her, now he knew this Hollis worked the lace. Her blouse was starched white and buttoned up the front. She was at least four inches taller thanks to heels that again conjured up the lace and her and… Jesus, what are you, a teenager? Help the next damn customer, Coffee Man. Hollis was three people back in the line and on the phone.

  “No. That is not how this is going to go. I will be in by ten and I want everyone in the conference room.” Hollis shook her head. “I am not on fu…” She looked around.

  Matt smiled.

  “I am not on vacation. I have been working this entire time, and I’m not sure why Reese or anyone else for that matter… Right. Right. I’m done discussing this over the phone too. I’ll be there soon.”

  She touched her phone to hang up, threw it into her bag, and then smiled at Poppy.

  “Great bag.”

  Hollis let out a breath. “Thanks. I’ll give it to you, but you have to take the phone too.”

  Poppy laughed. “I’m okay. I just had a baby, so whatever drama is on that phone is all yours.”

  “That’s right. Matt showed me the… that is, I saw pictures of her. Hannah, right?”

  “Yes.” Poppy’s face beamed as it tended to do when she was discussing her new daughter. “Do you want the usual?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Poppy turned to give Matt the order and he already had it made. He walked around the counter and gestured for Hollis to join him off to the side.

  “You’re wearing a bra today,” he said, and for a moment wished Hollis blushed. He had a feeling she would be gorgeous if she ever allowed herself to blush. The thought was amusing as if blushing was something a person could turn on and off. If it was possible to control it, Hollis had it locked down.

  She shook her head and took her coffee.

  “Where did you even find these clothes?” He looked her over and when their eyes met, he felt the heat he’d missed but was still a little hesitant to let in the door.

  “I keep a backup in my car.” She took the lid off her espresso and took a sip.

  “Where’re you headed?” Matt tried for casual, but the truth was at the sight of her all cleaned up and shiny, his heart had surged with a familiar rush of panic. He had nothing to panic about. They were not together and she likely could and would leave when she chose to leave. He was being stupid, but all rational thought he tried to send through to his head was blocked by his heart, which kept insisting that she’d come back and maybe…

  “Yes, I’ve been given a leave from my summer detox program for the afternoon. The monkeys at my circus are trying to take over, so I need to go into the office.” Hollis smiled and it barely turned her lips. Each time she brought up her job, there was a weight between her eyes and Matt wondered if that was the mystery reason she’d come back. It had something to do with work.

  “Kind of defeats the summer program, doesn’t it?”

  “I guess.” Her phone buzzed and she looked like a child crossing the street, not sure if she should check her phone or finish their conversation.

  Matt wanted to help her decide by pulling her in and kissing her right there in front of everyone. He wanted to tell her that he had enough money for the both of them. Show her that they didn’t need to live in a lighthouse to bake bread and walk around in their socks. They could do that from some great flat in the city. Maybe they could work together on a project, or she could start her own firm and pick what was worth late nights on her laptop and what wasn’t. He wanted her to know that he wanted a life with her, no matter where it was. He wanted children. But instead, he said nothing, only rolled his shoulder as if he could somehow wash all the want away, and turned back toward the counter.

  “I”—Hollis threw her phone in her purse—“have a few minutes before I need to leave. Do you want to talk about anything?”

  She stepped into him and smelled incredible, but expensive, and her white blouse appeared too stiff over what he knew was soft, sun-warmed skin. She was ready to go, ready to return, and the thought of losing her again almost brought him to his knees.

  “Nope. I’m good. Drive safe.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and led her to the door.

  “Right.” Hollis stood taller as they walked outside but somehow came across less sure of herself than she was before. “Okay, well I’m off.” She climbed into her car and he closed the door.

  Matt could see her shoulder rise and fall in a breath before she pulled away from the parking lot. As he returned to the coffee shop, he realized her white shirt wasn’t starchy at all. It was soft when he touched her. He didn’t know why it mattered, but as he collected two empty cups and repositioned chairs around his parents’ place, it seemed important.

  Dobbins Capital had several hundred employees and sixteen vice presidents. Of those vice presidents, three were women and Hollis was one. She’d been given the promotion that brought her from the thirty-first floor to the thirty-second a couple days shy of her thirty-second birthday. It was an honor, a huge accomplishment that she immediately called her parents to report. Annabelle had taken her out for lunch to celebrate, but when Hollis arrived home that night well after eleven, she had never felt more alone in her life. It was kind of like the day she and her family went to the Louvre in Paris the week before she left for college. Hollis had wanted to see the Mona Lisa since she’d first been drawn to the painting’s eyes in some picture book she had when she was little. She had a postcard of the portrait among the ticket stubs and snapshots around her mirror in her bedroom and eventually an Andy Warhol version as her screen saver on her first laptop.

  Finally getting to see the Mona Lisa was a big deal, so on that trip when they followed the crowds along the giant white stone walls of one of the world’s most celebrated museums, her heart was pounding with expectation. Her father read the map and told her “Mona” was in the next room. Hollis was anxious but patient as what felt like thousands of people moved in the same direction. She knew it would be worth the wait when she made it there, when she saw what she’d been waiting to see all her young life.

  Her family in tow, Hollis turned into a room that was about the size of their entire house, and her father pointed to the far wall. Hollis saw two things: What looked like a relatively small frame tucked behind a glass or plastic enclosure and a sea of people all standing about, mobile phones in the air snapping pictures as they chatted and pushed their way about the room. Hollis stood frozen in her letdown. She’d had visions of this, walking along and suddenly coming upon the Mona Lisa, standing for hours marveling at the brush strokes and wondering if the rumors were true and what the smile truly said about her. But this mess of people climbing over one another simply to chronicle that they’d seen the painting was not what Hollis had in mind at all. In the end, she’d turned around and left the room, moved on, and looked at other paintings, because even as an eighteen-year-old, she wanted nothing to do with something so absurd.

  About a month into her promotion, she’d felt the same way, but there had been nowhere to turn and no other room to view, so she made the best of it and learned to live among the crowds and their mobile phones.

  Having survived a four-hour meeting, Hollis now sat in an office she hadn’t seen in months and again realized two things:

  One, she was running low on time. In less than a month, she would need the complete man-child she was stuck with to fix his damn chi and become one of three grown-ups heading Pretty Boys Gaming. It was a ridiculous name, she knew, but they had a great logo. Wilt and Liam were geniuses at spinning, but they were nothing but, well, pretty boys without Zeke. They needed Zeke, and so did she if she was ever going to erase this nightmare before anyone figured out how and why she offered this company up to their investors without securing their resources. Sh
e’d already talked to Liam, told him he needed to fix this, but he’d responded that his “hands were tied” with that stupid little wink that would haunt her for the rest of her career.

  And two, if and when this was all over, she needed more. She used to love her job, still loved a challenge and finding the next best thing, but now she also wanted a life. Her life at Dobbins Capital was “a circus,” as Farmer Garrett had said. The clothes, the conference rooms, it was like being an actress, and somewhere along her climb up the ladder she’d left her makeup on. Staying in character, never having downtime, was eating away at her. Maybe that was why she’d lost it months ago. Maybe it was a coping mechanism that said, “Hey, you’re eating yourself, idiot.”

  Hollis pulled up her phone. No texts and no calls. She’d sensed something weird when he’d all but pushed her out the door of The Bean. Not that she could blame him. One minute she was kissing him silly and the next, she was cleaned up and prepared to hop back on the high wire. Lately, the contrast was startling even to her eyes. Hollis turned off her office lights and stood in the doorway for a minute, looking out over the scattered city glitter shining through the enormous windows behind her desk. She used to recognize this job, this life with all of the bells and whistles. It was never the Mona Lisa, but it still meant success, a win in her column. Now, having spent so much time at the cove with her uncle and being with Matt, it suddenly felt like the costume had shrunk; it was too tight and she didn’t know how to ask if someone could take out the waist a little.