by Melissa Hill
Getting a job would hopefully focus her mind and help her settle in even further and even if it was just waitressing or a coffee barista, she’d prefer something that involved interacting with people. Surely with all the bistros and delis in the area, (particularly on Columbus Ave which boasted more Italian eateries on a single street than Leonie had seen in any Italian city) she’d be able to pick up a job around here?
Having finished lunch, she decided to bite the bullet and head down that direction for a gander around.
Despite a little coastal fog, it was another glorious sunny day, and as Leonie closed the front door behind her, she caught a glimpse of someone entering the apartment downstairs. It was the first time since moving in that she’d heard a sound or noticed any activity from her neighbours, which was either a testament to solid Victorian construction, or a sign that the surrounding tenants were nice and quiet.
It was a pity she’d missed them though, she mused, deciding it would be nice to know her neighbours, at least enough to say a passing hello now and again.
Going down the steps, she slung her handbag over her shoulder and headed further along the tree-lined street in the direction of Columbus Avenue.
On the way she spotted a gorgeous little Italian pottery shop just off one of the side streets; its colourful window display and vibrantly painted exterior attracting her like a magpie.
Alongside this were a couple of pretty boutiques and even further along a dinky little bookstore, and before Leonie knew it, she’d wandered completely off course and ended up in an area she didn’t recognise. But it didn’t matter, she was in no rush, and this was merely another aspect of this city she loved; the notion of wandering around a neighbourhood and randomly uncovering some of its hidden treasures.
She moseyed along in the same direction for a little while, window-shopping and occasionally stopping to browse in whatever shops took her fancy, when a sign in a nearby window caught her eye.
Help Wanted.
From the extravagant flower displays in the window, it looked to be a florist.
Leonie looked up at the sign over the door and gave a little laugh at the cheesy-as-you-can get-name of the store. What else? Well, no time like the present, she thought pushing open the door of …ahem… Flower Power and going inside.
‘Hi there, I see you’re looking for staff?’
A stern, heavyset woman who looked nothing like the New Age hippy-type Leonie had been expecting gave her an appraising look. ‘You know anything about flower arranging, sweetheart?’
Leonie gulped. ‘Not a whole lot to be honest. I mean; I don’t have any training or anything.’ Numbskull, she really should have thought of that. In truth, Leonie had no retail experience whatsoever, as she’d waitressed during her teenage years and on her travels, and from there went into event management. What had possessed her to think she could work in a place like this? ‘Although, I used to deal a lot with florists in my last job,’ she added quickly.
The woman just shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter, neither do I,’ she said and Leonie was surprised at this given the lavish and highly stylised tropical arrangements that filled the room. ‘Anyhow, I’m just looking for someone to work the till and the phones, and process the internet orders. Do you know anything about the internet?’
‘I do, yes. Again, I haven’t worked in this particular area before, I mean with flowers per se but I’m sure I can learn.’ She went on to give the woman an account of her experience in event management, and how she’d only recently arrived in San Francisco and happened to be looking for work. ‘I was just passing and I saw the sign so…’
‘Where are you from honey?’ the woman asked, clearly thrown by the accent.
‘Ireland. In Europe,’ Leonie added helpfully, aware that not everyone would be familiar with her home country.
‘I know where Ireland is, I’ve been there twice,’ the other woman said, waving an arm dismissively. ‘Guess that pretty hair should have been a giveaway.’
Yup, that and the translucent skin, Leonie thought to herself.
‘So have you got a social security number?’
‘Well no, I…’ Stupidly, she hadn’t even thought about that and now she felt very foolish indeed. What had she been thinking, expecting to just walk into a job in a different country without the necessary documentation? Her resident’s visa had obviously given her a false sense of security and – ‘
‘Doesn’t matter I guess we can work off the books until you get it.’ The woman seemed very easy-going about it all, which made Leonie suspect that this kind of thing was (luckily for her) par for the course.
‘You don’t mind?’
‘Well, let’s see how the interview goes and then we can work out the details, OK?’
‘Oh yes … of course.’ Again Leonie felt foolish.
‘So, what’s your name?’
Introductions were made and she discovered that the woman’s name was Marcy and she was the proprietor of Flower Power.
‘It’s a great name for a flower shop, especially here,’ Leonie smiled. ‘I presume you were part of the hippy movement?’
Marcy looked insulted. ‘Are you crazy? I’m a good Baptist girl from Mississippi! None of that ‘free love’ stuff for me. Nah, I moved out West about ten years ago after my husband died.’
‘Oh. I’m very sorry to hear that.’ She was also horrified she’d raised the subject in the first place, but everyone else she’d met had been so friendly and forthcoming that she’d almost forgotten herself.
But Marcy was unperturbed. ‘Look honey, here’s the thing, my last girl left on Saturday, and we’re heading into a real busy time here with Valentine’s Day just around the corner. So I need someone who’s smart, hard-working and most importantly doesn’t need babysitting,’ she added wryly. ‘Though I might as well tell you upfront, the pay’s not so hot.’ She then quoted a weekly wage that was only a third of what Leonie had been earning back home and would just about cover her rent. But she could live with that for the moment; she had some savings so all she really needed was enough to pay the rent and day-to-day living expenses, rather than fund an extravagant lifestyle or anything. ‘There are tips on top of that too and some of our regulars can be very generous.’
Leonie nodded. ‘Sounds fine.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Absolutely.’ OK, so she knew very little about flowers or floral arrangements (other than ordering them), but Marcy certainly didn’t seem to find that a problem. Anyway, working in a place like this looked like it could be fun. Leonie had always loved the fuss surrounding big gift-giving occasions like Valentine’s Day and birthdays, so it would be nice to be in the middle of all that, and to be a part of an industry whose business was primarily making other people feel good. What’s more, it certainly ticked all the boxes in terms of finding something that involved mixing with the locals, didn’t it?
They spent a few more minutes agreeing all the details and Leonie was struck again by the speed and ease at which she was settling in to her new life in San Francisco. What with the new apartment and now a brand new job, she’d have left her old life behind in no time. And that was the plan, wasn’t it?
‘OK then, Leonie,’ her new boss said in conclusion. ‘See you Monday bright and early.’
Chapter 4
Alex Fletcher really thought she was going to scream at the pert little blonde standing in front of her.
‘Hi, I’m Cyndi Dixon, live at the scene of – ‘
‘Cyndi,’ Alex interjected wearily, ‘loosen up a little, will you? We’re not live and this isn’t CNN.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ Cyndi grumbled, smoothing down her fringe, before turning to face the TV camera once again. ‘Hi, I’m Cyndi Dixon and Today by the Bay, I’m here at the scene of this morning’s rather um… rather unusual life or death rescue,’ she added, finally injecting the warmth into her voice that Alex wanted.
Five takes later.
She nodded encouragingly. Today
by the Bay – the two-minute entertainment/news slot Alex produced for San Francisco’s local TV station, SFTV – wasn’t exactly Live at Five but it was her baby, and she wasn’t going to let some jumped-up little Barbie make a mess of it. They all knew that Cyndi was only using this as a springboard to the news studio and good luck to her, but Alex had been running this show for close to two years now, so like or not, Cyndi would have to do things her way.
OK, so telling her on the first day to lose the sorority-girl bangs and brighten up her wardrobe hadn’t particularly gone down well, but Today by The Bay was mostly a light news piece and nobody warmed to a reporter that looked like she’d just been to a funeral.
Cyndi continued her commentary. ‘It was right here behind me, that Jake Stephens risked life and most definitely limb,’ she added with a little chuckle, ‘to carry out one of the most incredible water rescue operations the city has ever seen.’
‘Cut!’ Frustrated, Alex signalled to Dave the cameraman. ‘A little too dramatic on the ending there maybe?’ she said to the other woman, who rolled her eyes. ‘Let’s just go with ‘the most incredible water rescue operation’ and continue from there, OK?’
‘Sure,’ Cyndi harrumphed, before filming began yet again. ‘Yep folks, you can believe your eyes, because the footage you’re seeing on your TV screens right now is of a man rescuing a bear from the fast-moving currents of the Bay. So how did a three hundred pound Californian black bear end up all the way down here in the city, let alone in the water? Well, this didn’t matter to Jake Stephens. Once our hero saw the bear was in trouble he leapt right in and helped get the animal to safety, without any thought for his own.’
‘Cut. Great Cyndi,’ Alex enthused, knowing that this and the interview they’d already done with Stephens would most likely be enough.
Crazy bastard jumping into the water like that. Luckily the bear was too tired and weak from swimming to attack him; instead the animal had used the man as a flotation aid until help arrived. Like Cyndi mentioned, how the bear ended up down here in the bay was anyone’s guess, but that part of the story didn’t concern Alex; it was the drama of the rescue operation that would interest viewers the most (and in particular the accompanying footage that they’d been lucky enough to get from a passing tourist).
It was the kind of compelling, dramatic and often heart-warming news piece that Today by the Bay specialised in, and if Sylvester Knowles, the senior producer at the station didn’t run this, Alex would eat her hat.
Sylvester had a very strict brief for Today by The Bay and this was right up his street. When Alex sometimes tried to veer off in other more interesting and newsworthy directions, she was quickly shot down. ‘Come on, all that green stuff is totally snooze worthy,’ he’d protested, when she’d once pitched a piece about an airline that was using so-called environmental policies to sneak in new charges. The company were almost deliriously happy to be green if it meant extracting something even greener from their long-suffering passengers and had wanted to bring in a fee for toilet flushing under the ‘water conservation’ banner. Alex was sure such a story would interest the public but as always, Sylvester ran a mile.
As much as she loved her little two-minute news slot, and the variety it afforded her, sometimes she yearned to do a ‘real’ story, not necessarily about politics or current affairs, but something meaty that really got the average American fired up. She guessed she’d inherited this from her dad, who’d been a print journalist back in the day when stories, real stories, mattered.
‘We’re done now?’ Cyndi said, in a tone that very much implied a statement rather than a question.
‘Sure,’ Alex replied easily. ‘Do you need a lift back to the station? Dave and I are heading that way now.’ Next it was straight into the editing suite to get the story ready for a slot on the evening news, and no doubt Sylvester would want a five second teaser to run before all commercial breaks until then.
‘I’ve got to be somewhere else actually,’ the other girl said, making it sound like she was due a meeting with the President.
‘OK, well I’ll give you a call if we need you for filming tomorrow. I think a voiceover might be enough though, I’m not sure.’ Tomorrow’s piece would be an interview with a sixty-nine year old guy who was the oldest cable car grip man in the city and shortly due to retire. Because (unlike most members of the public) the man had proven a lively and entertaining interviewee with lots of great anecdotes from his years on the job, they wouldn’t need Cyndi’s pretty face to hold viewer interest or fill screen time.
‘Whatever,’ Cyndi was already elsewhere and Alex made a mental note to ask Sylvester why he kept foisting these precious princesses onto her. She knew he’d counter the argument by insisting that she should get in front of the camera herself but Alex wasn’t interested. With her big brown eyes, high cheekbones and looks that people often described as ‘exotic’ (mostly down to her Mediterranean heritage), she suspected she could probably get away with looking the part, but she’d always felt much more comfortable behind a camera than in front of one. And, she mused, fiddling with a strand of long, dark hair, it meant she’d have to lose ten pounds and wear a shed load of makeup every day, which just wasn’t going to happen.
She made it back to her desk at the SFTV offices just before lunchtime, and upon checking her messages, saw that mixed in with some other work-related stuff was a note to call her lawyer. Alex’s heart automatically sped up.
It couldn’t be, could it?
Her hands suddenly clammy, she wiped them on her jeans before picking up the phone to call him back.
‘Doug, it’s Alex,’ she said trying to keep her voice even. ‘You called?’
‘Not good news I’m afraid,’ Doug said without preamble. ‘Same old story.’
‘What?’ Alex wasn’t quite sure how to feel. She’d expected the news to be different this time. ‘You didn’t get him?’
‘Well, according to our guy you were right; he was there at one time, but not anymore.’
She honestly didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. She knew what she should feel of course, but when it came to this, Alex was never really on sure footing. ‘So what do we do now?’ she asked Doug. ‘I mean, this needs to get done.’
‘Not a lot I can do for you in the short term if we can’t pin this guy down, Alex.’ The lawyer was circumspect. ‘Look, ask around some more and see what you can find out, or maybe think about getting a professional on the case. Otherwise, we’ll need to consider an alternative route but it’s probably too early for that just yet.’
‘Too early…but it’s been over a year!’ she exclaimed, although in truth it was more than that since all this really began.
‘Yes, but in the eyes of the law…’ Doug began to repeat his usual mantra.
‘I know, I know,’ Alex said jadedly. ‘I’ll keep trying, see if I can find out anything new. I’m really sorry about this; I was so sure this time.’
‘You do that. And try not to worry, we’ll get this guy nailed down eventually – we always do.’
‘I hope so Doug,’ she said, trying to sound like she meant it when the truth was, she wasn’t so sure. ‘And I’m sorry your time got wasted on another wild goose chase.’ Although she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that the lawyer himself was doing the chasing; more likely some lackey the firm employed to do that kind of legwork.
‘Not a problem. I’m sorry I didn’t have good news so I could wrap this thing up for you once and for all,’ Doug finished before ringing off.
The conversation still buzzing in her head, Alex sat back in her chair and sighed deeply.
‘Hey, what’s with the long face?’ Sylvester said, catching the tail end of the sigh. ‘I hope that doctor of yours hasn’t let you down, especially not with Valentine’s Day so close.’
Thinking of Jon, Alex had to smile. ‘No, we’re going out tonight, actually’ she told her boss.
‘Good. Shit-hot surgeon or not, that guy’s got
me to deal with if he messes you around.’
‘I’ll be sure to tell him that,’ she said with a grin.
She and Jon French, a surgeon from downtown Memorial had been seeing each other for a couple of months, and while things had been going great up to now, they were rapidly approaching a crossroad in the relationship – one that Alex knew she couldn’t delay for much longer. He knew what was going on with her of course, had known from the very beginning and because of this, seemed happy enough to wait. But now, with their relationship coming up to four months and still nothing happening…well she supposed she couldn’t really blame him for getting antsy.
Would she still be feeling this way if Doug’s phone call had been different? she wondered now. Would it have finally put everything to bed? Grimacing at her own choice of words, she tried to get a handle on her thoughts. There was no point in even going down that road now. If anything she was lucky that Jon had come into her life when he had, and doubly lucky that he was so patient and understanding.
It was just her pragmatic side that wanted this dealt with, Alex reassured herself, and nothing else should come into it. Her relationship with Jon should move on and with any luck she’d get the closure she needed eventually.
But for the moment, Alex thought, checking the rest of her messages, it looked like that closure wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
***
‘Wow, you look amazing!’ Jon was full of compliments when Alex arrived at the restaurant that night, and she was pleased with her decision to wear the new one-shoulder Diane Von Furstenberg blue silk dress she’d bought at Macy’s the week before.
They were having dinner at the Cliff House restaurant, one of her favourites in the city, which as the name implied, was perched on the cliffs high above the Pacific Ocean. From their window table, the lights of Marin coastline glittered prettily in the distance, and below on the water, cruise ships sailed in and out of the bay beneath the Golden Gate. Jon looked pretty good tonight too, she noticed, dressed in a black Ralph Lauren shirt and tan Hugo Boss chinos. His dark hair looked freshly-cut and his deep brown eyes sparkled in the low-level restaurant lighting. Man he was sexy!