Depth of Field

by Chantel Guertin

  “It’s an emergency, so can you go fast? Or, like, as fast as you can without us dying or getting pulled over for speeding?”

  “I do my best, ma’am. I do my best.” The cabbie steps on it and turns down the next street, past street lamp after street lamp, the city whizzing by. Past Washington Square Park, the fountain lit up in the night sky. A few minutes later, we’re pulling in front of the dorm.

  I toss a wad of bills at the driver and tumble out of the cab onto the sidewalk, then race inside. “Did you see a guy? With a suitcase?” I pant, breathless, to the security guard. He tilts his head, scratches his chin, like I’ve got all the time in the world. Then nods. “Yeah,” he says, “a few minutes ago.”

  “Did you see which way his cab went? I think he was going to the airport.”

  “No cab. He was taking the bus. Asked me which subway to take to get to the Port Authority. Sent him up over to 8th to head uptown.”

  I run back out onto the street, my feet sliding on the thin layer of ice, and I nearly wipe out several times as I race to 8th Street station. Grab the handrail with my mittens and fly down the steps. I scrabble in my purse for my MetroCard and finally feel the smooth surface, slide it through the reader and push my way through the turnstile onto the platform.

  I didn’t look at the sign to which track I was on, but there’s no way he’s still here. I look both ways along the platform, but it’s empty. Then I look across to the other side. Ben. Only the train tracks separating us.

  “Ben!” I wave, then run down my platform to get across from him and try to catch his attention. “Ben!” I wave wildly just as two trains, one in each direction, rush into the station. I try to peer through the windows of the trains to see if he’s seen or heard me, to see if he’s still there, but my heart sinks. The doors close and the trains start to move, slowly at first, in opposite directions, until they’ve fully crossed and exited the station. I drop my head, then dare to look up.

  Ben’s still there. Suitcase by his side, he’s looking straight at me. Waiting.

  I take a deep breath, then shout, “Don’t go.”

  Acknowledgments

  They say that writing a book is like having a baby. In this case, it was a race to see what would come first—the final draft of this book or Fitz. Thank you Fitz, for coming early and bringing so much happiness to my life—and then occasionally napping so I could finish the book (even if it required typing with one hand while holding you with the other).

  To everyone at ECW, especially Crissy Calhoun, for channeling her inner 16-year-old and making this story a zillion times more believable. Also to Crissy and to Jen Knoch, for basically being Pippa’s BFFs and writing things like “<3 <3 <3” and “Whaaaa?” in the margins. To Erin Creasey and Jenna Illies, for being so fun to work with. And to everyone else who worked on and supported this book: David Caron, Jack David, Rachel Ironstone, Troy Cunningham, Laura Pastore, Lynn Gammie and Michelle Melski.

  Thanks to my first readers and advice-givers: Janis Leblanc and Claudia Grieco for thoughtful insights and edits; Melissa diPasquale for real-life photography notes; Samantha Corbin for taking me into Tischland; and Marissa Stapley for always replying to emails with subject lines like Helllllllllp in a split-second. You prove your friendship to me (even though you don’t need to!) every single day in so many ways.

  My family: Dad, Susan, Danielle, Sarah, Rob, Janet, Terry, Nancy, Ron, Jody, Mark, Cameron, Ally, Julie, Isaac and Levi—for your love, support and much-appreciated babysitting.

  Finally, to Penny & Myron for hugs, laughs and caramel sundaes. And to Chris, for insisting we go to New York just one more time (research!), for weekend getaways (editing!), dinners out (book meetings!), ping-pong matches (much needed breaks!), chocolate chip cookies (energy to write just one more scene!) and well, everything else. You make me swoon.

  CHANTEL GUERTIN is the bestselling author of three novels—Stuck in Downward Dog, Love Struck and The Rule of Thirds—and a beauty expert on The Marilyn Denis Show. When she’s not working on a new book, she likes writing in her diary, sending mis-autocorrected texts to her best friends and making to-do lists. She lives in Toronto, Ontario.

  Copyright © Chantel Guertin, 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any process — electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise — without the prior written permission of the copyright owners and ECW Press. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by ECW Press

  2120 Queen Street East, Suite 200

  Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4E 1E2

  416-694-3348 / info@ecwpress.com

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Guertin, Chantel, 1976–, author

  Depth of field : a Pippa Greene novel / Chantel Guertin.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-77041-183-8 (pbk)

  ISBN 978-1-77090-597-9 (PDF)

  ISBN 978-1-77090-596-2 (ePub)

  I. Title.

  PS8637.I474D46 2014 C813’.6

  C2014-902547-5 C2014-902548-3

  Editor for the press: Crissy Calhoun

  Cover images: Jackie Rueda

  Author photo: Steven Khan

  The publication of Depth of Field has been generously supported by the Canada Council for the Arts which last year invested $157 million to bring the arts to Canadians throughout the country, and by the Ontario Arts Council (OAC), an agency of the Government of Ontario, which last year funded 1,793 individual artists and 1,076 organizations in 232 communities across Ontario, for a total of $52.1 million. We also acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund for our publishing activities, and the contribution of the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishing Tax Credit and the Ontario Media Development Corporation.