“I don’t like this deal,” Julia said. “This sounds like a lousy deal.”
“This is a leap of the most profound kind, Julia. A leap of faith. Do you believe your choices have power, even the minor ones?”
Julia leaned back on the couch. She felt dizzy and nauseous. How did it come to this? How did she end up here bargaining for her future with a dead man?
“For the record,” she said, “this sucks.”
Nick sighed and if she closed her eyes, it almost felt like he was alive. A sharp ache stabbed her in the chest. Now that he was here, sort of here anyway, she missed him.
“Tell me about it,” he said. “Now, we don’t have much time. When the sun comes up on Christmas morning, you need to be done.”
“You said that already.”
“Did I?” Nick leaped to his feet. It was a surprisingly silent move. “So what are we waiting for? What are your two wrongs?”
Did he smirk because when it came to wrongs Julia had a long and distinguished list from which to pick? She did not like to think of herself this way. It was very uncomfortable.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Back when I was alive,” Nick said, “I always felt like a walk helped when I was stuck with something. I’d walk around in Central Park until I figured out my problem. Did you know that about me?”
Julia shook her head.
“I even invited you once to join me but you said no. Something to do with thong underwear, I think?”
For some reason, the idea that she’d turned down her husband’s request for a walk in the park brought tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” Nick said, “but let’s take a walk.”
On the way out, Nick greeted Lady Di. “Good evening, your Highness,” he said.
“Good evening, kind Sir,” Lady Di responded, peeking out from under her blankets.
“Wait! You can see him?”
Lady Di gave her a dirty look. “I’m homeless,” she said, “not blind.”
“Come on, Julia,” Nick said. “Let’s roll.”
Fifteen minutes later Julia strolled up a nearly empty Park Avenue, the snow falling harder now, the ghost of her dead husband whistling Jingle Bells at her side. Ten blocks later, they turned west on 23rd Street. Half way down the street, they stopped in front of a dingy brick three story building. The lower level was a bodega, open despite the holiday. Snow covered the display of brightly colored apples. Inside, an old man in an apron shuffled around with a feather duster, cleaning cans of beans and soup. The second story was dark but lights were on up on the top level.
“I think I know why we’re here,” Julia whispered.
“I thought you might,” said Nick.
CHAPTER 5
Mac McKinley was six months into his big entrepreneurial experiment, the McKinley Agency. He’d finally worked up the nerve to escape the big soul sucking advertising agency and start his own shop. He left with dreams of monster success and never once thought it might not happen. It was the American dream after all and why not him?
But things had not been going smoothly. He’d landed just five clients, all of which collectively did not pay enough to keep the lights on in the tiny offices on 23rd Street. He’d poured his life savings into this venture and was on the verge of despair when, just that morning, he’d been selected to present a concept to the internationally renowned toy making company, Building Bricks, which was releasing a line for girls. He was so excited by this prospect that when a twenty two year old Julia Orchard wandered in off the street to pass a resume to his nonexistent receptionist, he’d hired her on the spot. He liked her old school initiative, pounding the pavement, so to speak. Plus, he couldn’t show up to a pitch meeting for a company like Building Bricks alone. He needed gender balance! He needed warm bodies! It helped that Julia was gorgeous in that effortless way young people have.
On her first day, Mac discovered Julia had a degree in English Literature from a small up state liberal arts college, which meant she could talk the hell out of Shakespeare but didn’t know how to do much else. However, she was eager to learn and for the next six weeks, they set about creating a campaign for Building Bricks that felt fresh and lively. They stuck to primary colors, avoiding the pink trap. They leaned heavily on engineering concepts and shouted the word “Princess!” at each other whenever they veered off into terrain considered much too girly. Fueled by caffeine, they worked night and day, occasionally dashing home for a shower and change of clothes. Mac fantasized about what it would be like to land Building Bricks as a client. He could hire more staff and move to bigger offices. He could shamelessly name drop at all the cocktail parties he’d inevitably attend. He could eat something other than rice and beans at every meal.
He fantasized about Julia, too. They were so in tune with one another. He’d never met a woman who got him quite the way Julia did. Sure, he was a solid decade older than she was and she worked for him. But still, when she was leaning over his desk, spilling out of her lacy pushup bra, he could barely breathe. He could see himself falling in love with her.
The day of the pitch arrived. Mac met Julia on the sidewalk outside the Building Bricks headquarters on Broadway. The glass building reflected the morning sun and, despite the bags under his eyes, Mac felt suddenly exhilarated. This was it! This was his moment! Even the lobby smelled of success.
The pitch was perfect. Julia had them eating out of the palm of her hand, flipping her blond hair and grinning with youthful energy. They clearly loved her so Mac let her take the lead and run with it, pride swelling his chest By the end of the meeting, the Vice President of Marketing shook their hands with great enthusiasm and said he’d be in touch.
They celebrated with hot dogs from a vendor in Central Park. They replayed how awesome they were over and over. They moved on to a bar and drank cheap beer, giddy with success. That night they fell into Mac’s unmade bed and he finally got to remove that silky push up bra and run his hands over those creamy perfect breasts. It was all coming together. The next morning he left Julia sleeping and slipped out for coffee and bagels. When he returned, she was gone.
She didn’t answer her cell phone. She didn’t answer the buzzer at her apartment. And she didn’t come to work. For three days, he heard from neither Julia nor Building Bricks. On the fourth day he finally got the Vice President of Marketing on the phone.
“Mr. McKinley,” the man roared. “So good to hear from you!”
“I thought I’d check on whether you’d made your decision about the new campaign,” he said with more confidence than he felt. The world was sand beneath his feet.
“Yes, yes, of course. You were on my list to follow up with today.” The man cleared his throat and Mac knew what was coming. They were going in ‘a different direction. “We’ve decided to go in a different direction.”
“But why?” Mac blurted. “I thought we had great synergy in that room together.” Had he really just used the word synergy? Things were bad. Very bad.
There was an uncomfortable pause. “Have you spoken to Ms. Orchard recently?”
Why was he asking about Julia? “No,” Mac said.
“Well, she said she’d be in touch with you but maybe you missed each other.” Again, he cleared his throat. “We very much liked Ms. Orchard’s ideas and enthusiasm for this project. Being a young woman, she brings a certain something to the table. But…”
“But?”
“We’re a billion dollar company, Mr. McKinley,” he said, “so let me be frank. Your shop is just too small.”
“We can scale!” Mac yelled, despite all attempts to stay calm. “We can bring in more bodies, whatever it takes!”
“Time is of the essence here, you understand, so we asked if Ms. Orchard would be amenable to, ah, joining VonA Advertising.”
Had he just said VonA Advertising? “Excuse me?”
“VonA Advertising? Su
rely you’ve heard of them?”
Of course, he knew VonA! They’d stolen his last ten years! They’d taken his ideas and never given him credit for any of them! VonA was the reason he was out on his own. He could not believe he was hearing this.
“So you stole my employee and gave the business to my competitor?” Mac said finally.
“Oh, it wasn’t my idea,” the Vice President of Marketing laughed. “It was Julia’s! And she said she wasn’t your employee, just helping out on this campaign as a favor. Clever young woman. She’s going places. Don’t you agree?”
Mac was speechless. This had to be a joke. Without another word, he hung up the phone, put on his jacket and stormed out into the bright sunshine. He paced in front of Julia’s building for three hours until she finally showed up, a VonA tote bag slung over her shoulder. The thing that got Mac, killed him, was her casual smile as if everything was right with the world. Which, he imagined, it was. If you were Julia Orchard and not Mac McKinley.
He’d come for a confrontation, to yell and scream and howl but the moment he saw her dirty little smile and that goddamn tote bag, he just deflated, the emotion required for pitching a fit much too great. He was limp with betrayal.
“Mac!” she said when she saw him, slumped against her building. “How are you?” Her wide eyes brimmed with concern. She was a superb actress! She might be the best he’d ever seen! “I tried to call you.” When she reached out to touch him on the shoulder, he recoiled.
“You didn’t,” he said. “Please don’t lie.”
“I did,” she said. “I promise. I had fun the other night.”
The girl had no shame. Not only did she play him, she stole his potentially career making client right out from under him. “You’re a bad person,” he muttered.
“Pardon?”
“I said you’re a bad person. No good. Rotten. How could you?”
“Well,” she said curtly, “I have to take care of myself. I saw an opportunity and I took it. You’d have done the same.”
But she was wrong. Mac McKinley was made of different stuff. He should have been a doctor or a firefighter. His soul did not allow for the casual destruction of other people’s lives. He shook his head sadly.
“I’d like to think karma will some day come back and bite you on the ass,” he said. “But people like you, you take and take and keep on taking and never seem to pay the price.”
Julia shrugged but there was a flicker in her eye that suggested maybe she ought to heed what this man was saying. She didn’t, of course, and as soon as Mac walked away, she promptly forgot all about him.
Until now.
CHAPTER 6
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Julia said, staring up at the lighted top floor windows in the grungy building.
“He kept on with the business, despite your betrayal.” The matter-of-fact way Nick put this made Julia wince. She’d never thought of it as betrayal. She’d considered it a career move and if you were going to succeed in this town, a certain level of brutality was required and accepted “But he never got a chance with a company like Building Bricks again.”
Nick strode toward the door and it yielded without a touch.
“Where are we going?” Julia asked.
“Inside. Upstairs.”
“Why?”
“To right the wrong.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” she whispered. That she’d have to look Mac McKinley in the eye was far scarier than being haunted. “What do I say?”
Nick paused, an exasperated expression clouding his transparent face. “That’s not something I can help you with,” he said. “What do you feel?”
“Sick to my stomach? Filled with dread?”
“You’re hopeless. Come on.”
Reluctantly, Julia followed Nick into the building and up the narrow stairs to the third floor landing. Her throat was dry, her hands clammy. Through the glass pane in the office door, she saw everything was much the same as it had been seven years ago. Mac sat with his feet up on the single desk, leaned way back in his chair, eyes closed. It was Christmas Eve. What was he doing here?
Standing in the hallway peering in on Mac, Julia was filled with a strange tingling sensation as if an electrical current was coursing through her veins. All her senses heightened in an uncomfortable way. She shivered.
“Go on,” Nick urged. Where was he now? The man had an infuriating way of flickering in and out of her reality. She took a small step toward the door and then another. Mac’s eyes flew open at the gentle knocking.
At first he squinted. Julia could see him running through all the plausible explanations for her presence outside his office door. He was dreaming. He was hallucinating. It wasn’t actually her, just her very lost clone. Someone slipped something into his rice and beans. Before he could say otherwise, Julia pushed open the door and invited herself in.
The office smelled like stale coffee and desperate sweat and she crinkled up her nose. Around Mac’s eyes were deep wrinkles and his face seemed to sag around the chin. His hair was thinner than she remembered and gray around the temples. He wore a tie, loose at the neck with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands were chapped and red as if he’d never heard of gloves. She gave him a little wave.
“Mac,” she said.
“Julia Orchard,” he said. “Julia Fucking Orchard. Am I actually asleep or is this some kind of nightmare?”
“Neither,” Julia said. She tried to smile but her lips felt rubbery. “It’s karma, I guess. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Mac leaped up, overturning his desk chair with such force Julia flinched. “You’re sorry?” he hollered. “Seven years and you’re sorry?”
She nodded, eyes cast down. The tingling grew more intense. Her skin jumped and quivered. And in the pit of her stomach, she knew what Mac had felt that day, the last time she’d seen him out in front of her apartment. It was happening to her. It was happening right now! It was a potent mixture of betrayal and anger and self doubt, of longing and fear and anxiety. And it was all because of her.
“Oh!” she gasped, wobbling on her feet. Mac’s eyes filled with concern. Even now, even after all she’d done to him, he didn’t relish her pain.
“I don’t….know what to say,” she said. “I know sorry isn’t enough. It’s nothing. I didn’t know! I didn’t understand. But now I do. I think I do. Mac, I’m so sorry.”
“You ruined everything,” he said simply.
Tears pricked her eyes. When was the last time she’d cried? She couldn’t actually remember. People assumed she did all her crying in private after Nick died. They called her strong. But the truth was she’d never cried over Nick. Not one single tear. But now they streamed down her cheeks.
“Hey,” Mac said, coming around from behind the desk. “Stop that. It was a long time ago. I’m over it.”
But she shook her head. He was lying. He’d never gotten over it. He still carried around a thimble full of humiliation, deep down in his belly. It colored things in his life.
“I’ll make it up to you,” she said.
“There’s nothing to make up,” he said.
“Oh but there is!” The tingling was so intense now she could barely stand. “Nick!” Where the hell was that dead husband of hers when she needed him?
Just beside Mac, the shimmering door appeared. Not this again. Slowly, it sucked her forward, leaving her feeling vague, fluid almost, as she passed right through. This time she didn’t scream.
On the other side, she was young. Not that twenty nine was old exactly but this was Julia at twenty two. From her perch just outside the scene, Julia watched the younger version of herself cruise down 23rd Street in the blazing summer sun. The city smelled like garbage baking in an oven. Had she really worn those white pants and red shoes? What was she thinking?
“Now, now,” said Nick, quavering beside her.
“What am I doing here?” she demanded. “Why am I watching myself? How does this right a wrong? I to
ld Mac I was sorry.”
“Yes you did,” said Nick. “And I mostly believe you meant it. Which is a vast improvement already. But to right a wrong something has to change. Keep watching. You’ll see what I mean.”
It was weird to watch herself. Overall, the experience made her twitchy and uncomfortable. There she was, a bundle of fresh resumes tucked under her arm, practically skipping down the sidewalk. When she arrived at the address for the newly minted McKinley Agency, she stopped abruptly, a frown appearing on her flawless face. She stared for a long moment at the windows on the third floor, shielding her eyes from the sun.
Julia whispered to her young self, “Don’t go up. Please. I don’t trust you. I know what you’ll do.”
For a moment, young Julia appeared to move toward the building’s door but she stopped just short of pulling it open. She froze, spinning around as if grabbed from behind. But there was no one, just the old guy from the bodega, whistling a tune and putting peaches on display in neat rows.
“Hello miss,” he said.
“Hello,” young Julia said.
“Peach?” Without waiting for a yes, the old man threw a ripe piece of fruit to Julia who reached up and caught it. It was a perfect peach. “Go on,” the man urged.
So she did. She sunk her teeth into its ripe fresh, the juice running down her chin. And she kept right on walking down 23rd Street, eating her peach, away from Mac McKinley.
But now the scene changed again. The past was gone. She was back on the present side of the shimmering door from hell. But it didn’t look like the McKinley Agency she’d been in moments ago. No, this office was big and modern and packed with people, drinking and eating dim sum. This was a party. And there in the middle of a throng of people was Mac. He stood tall, grinning ear to ear. He slapped people on the back. He handed out little presents. There was love in the room. There was camaraderie.
“Where the hell am I?” Julia said. “Nick! Nick?”
“Excuse me, but do we know each other?” It was Mac, right in front of her, eyes curious. God, he was gorgeous! How come she never noticed that before? “Because I feel like I know you.”
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