by Thea Dawson
Merilee clapped her hands together girlishly. “Oh, I’m so excited. I’m so glad Eva thought of you. I’m sure you’re just what I need. Just give me a day to look over your work and figure out exactly what I can afford and I’ll be in touch.”
Celia was back out on the sunny, breezy sidewalk walking toward the bakery a few minutes later. Would she get the work? Merilee was adorable, but struck her as a bit flighty. Anxiously, she went back over their conversation, wondering if she should have done or said anything differently. Steps from the bakery, she finally forced herself to stop second-guessing the whole event and to focus on being grateful that it was an opportunity at all.
“How did it go?” asked Eva eagerly as she walked in the bakery door. The stroller was parked at a small table and all three children were covered with a fine layer of powdered sugar.
Celia laughed at the sight. “She’s got a lot of energy.”
“Tell me about it. I showed her six properties before she decided on that one, and I needed a nap after each one.” To Celia’s relief, Eva had dropped her business voice and was back to being regular Eva.
Celia shrugged and slid into a seat next to the double stroller. “She’s going to look at my portfolio and decide what kind of budget she has. So I guess we’ll see. Thanks so much for introducing us.”
“Of course, of course. She said something about needing a logo, and I immediately thought of you. I really hope it works out. Want a donut?”
Celia took one with a smile.
She kept busy enough that day that she was able to keep thoughts of Richard, their passionate night, and their awkward encounter the next morning out of her mind. She was able to push them back even more when Merilee called her on Sunday morning to commit to the initial branding identity package. Celia met her at the shop with a contract and picked up a check for the deposit along with hearty hug and many breathless thanks.
She even avoided thinking about Richard on Monday morning as she deposited his most recent check along with Merilee’s in her account, clutching the slip with her new balance happily as she walked back to her car.
But as the day wore on and school pick-up loomed, her stomach started to churn with anxiety. Memories of their night together and the humiliating morning after forced their way to the surface, making her both squirm with embarrassment and sigh with longing. She knew she had to make a decision, and she had only a few hours left to make sure it was the right one … and only a few hours left before she saw him again.
She picked up the kids from school with butterflies fluttering in her stomach. As the afternoon wore on and it came closer to the time that Richard would come home, she felt like she was on the verge of a full-on anxiety attack. Distracted and jumpy, she let Lily and Peyton go up to play in Peyton’s room without checking to see if they’d finished their homework and turned her back on Rosie and Rowan long enough for them to empty an entire box of Cheerios onto the floor.
Exasperated with both them and herself, she’d just finished sweeping up the cereal when she heard the garage door open. Her stomach clenched. She hastily put the dustpan back in the broom cupboard. Her first instinct was to grab her kids and flee, but she forced herself to stand her ground, knowing she needed a distraction-free moment with Richard. Quickly, she took her receipt from the bank out of her purse and stared at her new balance. She took a deep breath and thrust it back in the bag just as Richard walked through the back door.
Her heart skipped a beat. Why did he have to be so knee-meltingly attractive? He caught her eye then quickly looked away as if embarrassed.
Good, she thought. If I have to be embarrassed about all of this, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be, too.
“I need to talk to you,” she said firmly.
He sighed. “Listen, if it’s about the other night—”
She cut him off. “Here’s the thing. I’m doing better now with my graphic design business, and I think I need to start concentrating on that. I need more time to really do it well, so I’m giving you my notice.”
The look of surprise on his face helped turn her anxiety into exasperation. Is it really such a shock that I’d want to quit after what happened?
“Oh,” he said. “I ... Well, I’m glad to hear things are going well for you with your work.” He spoke slowly as if choosing his words carefully. “Do you think you can stay on long enough for me to find someone else?”
“Sure,” she nodded. Uncomfortable though the situation now was, she didn’t really want to leave them in the lurch. And another paycheck wouldn’t hurt.
“Thank you.” He looked genuinely relieved. “Peyton really enjoys having you and Lily around ...” his voice trailed off and he looked away from her face. “Listen—”
“Daddy’s home!” Peyton came running around the corner and threw herself into Richard’s arms.
His face lit up with an affectionate smile and he leaned down to look her in the eye. “Hey, listen, princess, do you think you and Lily—”
“Daddy, at school we’re painting the wall by the playground and we had a competition to choose the best design and Ms. Reynolds said mine was a finalist and the whole school is going to vote!”
“That’s great, sweetheart!”
Celia busied herself collecting Lily and Rosie and stuffing Rowan into his jacket. She had her own coat on and her tote bag in hand before Richard looked up at her, Peyton still chattering away. “Celia, wait a moment—”
“Don’t go yet, I need a hug!” Peyton shouted. She turned her back on her father and quickly hugged Celia, Rosie, Rowan and Lily, Lily looking slightly embarrassed but pleased by her friend’s exuberance. Celia smiled at her regretfully. She was a sweet little girl. She hoped Richard would find a good replacement. Celia quickly ushered her brood out the front door, waving good-bye and breathing a sigh that encompassed both relief and regret as she shut the front door behind her.
14
Celia dragged herself home from class that evening, relieved to find the kids actually in bed. Between working at the Co-op in the morning, giving her notice to Richard in the afternoon, and being in class for three hours, she was exhausted.
After a quick check-in, Tracie left, and Celia switched on her laptop. Paul was having them make formal presentations to the class, just as they might to a company, and she wanted to review his requirements before going to bed. He had assigned each student an imaginary project, and by next week, they’d be expected to present preliminary design concepts to the class and field questions and feedback as if they were in a real client setting.
Celia took a deep breath and tried to fight off the feeling of being overwhelmed. She was on target for getting Merilee’s menus done before her opening, but Merilee had also requested a banner to hang in front of the café on opening day and a series of ads the local paper. She really hadn’t been lying to Richard when she’d told him she was getting busier. Of course, between his job and the Co-op, she would have preferred to quit the Co-op, which, though it paid slightly more per week, took far more energy and wasn’t as much fun for Rosie and Rowan … but quitting Richard’s job was the better choice under the circumstances.
She yawned and blinked at the screen. Unable to concentrate on Paul’s project for more than a few minutes, she idly checked her email. Mostly junk, but the subject line of one stood out:
Richard Hawkes suggested I contact you ...
Dear Celia,
I’m the CEO of a small company that specializes in designing and building environmentally friendly business environments.
We’re a new company; we haven’t even officially launched yet. Richard, one of our consultants, recommended we contact you with regard to our graphic design needs. We need help establishing a concrete branding identity, one that conveys both environmental friendliness along with high-tech efficiency. We have a logo that I’m happy with, but unfortunately, the designer is unavailable to work with us on future projects (brochures, signage, website, etc.).
I saw your portfolio online
and it looks very impressive. If you’d be interested in possibly working with us, I’d love to set up a conference call with you, me, and Jan Mulchahy (cc’d here), our director of public relations.
Please reply at your earliest convenience.
Sincerely,
Susan Ngyuen
Her heart started to race. Richard hadn’t mentioned anything about giving her name to Susan—when had he done it? Was this his way of apologizing? Or alleviating any sense of responsibility he felt for her? Or maybe he had done it earlier, and hadn’t said anything so as to not get her hopes up. In which case, would he still welcome her involvement in the company?
She shook her head. Too many questions, and none of them related to graphic design. She quickly checked the website listed in Susan’s email signature. Nothing special; she recognized it as a premium website template. She scrolled quickly through, her heart skipping a beat when she saw a smiling headshot of Richard under the “Our Team” section. Damn him, why did he have to be so handsome? Some basic information about the company, contact information, a slideshow of stock images, a basic blue and white color scheme ... plenty of room for improvement.
She bit her lip. A couple of days ago, she would have asked Richard for more information on the company before she talked to Susan, but that felt beyond awkward now.
She sent Paul a quick text, telling him she had a possibly big prospect and asking if she could call him sometime soon to get his advice. To her surprise and relief, her phone rang almost immediately.
“Good timing, I was just about to head back to Portland. What’s up?”
She quickly explained the situation. He gave a low whistle.
“This sounds like a great opportunity. You got this, Celia. Okay, can you talk to the friend who introduced you and get more information from them?”
“Um … not easily.”
“No worries,” Paul continued briskly. “Find out everything you can about their team from LinkedIn. Chances are at least a few of them have worked at similar companies, so you can research those and see what kind of language they use, what kind of imagery, get a feel for the industry that way. Now, this is important: you do NOT want to sell yourself short. This is a professional company based in San Francisco. I can pretty much guarantee you that all of the principles expect to be earning at least low six figures. They’re a start-up, so they might not have a huge budget yet, but if you cheap out and undersell yourself, they won’t take you seriously. What did you charge your last client?”
Celia gave him the hourly rate she’d quoted Merilee.
“Hmm ...” Paul thought it over. “Triple that.”
Celia gulped.
He laughed at her hesitation. “You’re worth it, kid,” he said. “You’re talented, and I know you’ll go to the ends of the earth for any client. And remember, they’re paying you, but you’re in charge. They’re looking to you for guidance about anything related to their branding and design. Got it?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Paul,” she said gratefully. She was still nervous but his advice had calmed her down a bit.
There was a slight pause as if he were thinking about something, but he simply said, “You got this, kid. Get on that call as soon as you can, and let me know how it goes.”
“I will. Thanks for calling back.”
“Anytime. Your presentation is still due on Monday.”
“No problem.” She laughed and hung up the phone. Adrenaline still coursed through her but she felt slightly less anxious. She emailed Susan back, suggesting a few times for a call later in the week, then closed down the laptop.
Creeping quietly upstairs, she noticed that there was still a light on in the children’s room. Lily was still awake, studying her cookbook by flashlight. Celia stood in the doorway to their room for a moment, watching her, until Lily looked at her. Celia crossed the room and sat down on the bed.
“I want to talk to you for a second,” she said.
Lily stared at her without smiling.
“You know … Sunday is the anniversary of your dad’s death,” Celia began. “I thought it would be nice if we all went and brought some flowers or something to his grave.”
Lily looked back at the book. “Whatever.”
“Look at me for a moment, sweetheart,” Celia said gently. Lily’s expression was resentful, but she obeyed. Celia continued. “I know your dad and I weren’t getting along well even before he died, and I know you heard us fighting the night that he got killed. I don’t blame you for being angry. You can be as angry as you like. But your dad loved you, and I love you. And I think it would be nice if we went to the graveyard and said good bye one more time.”
Lily glared at her silently for a moment, then dropped her eyes to her book again. “Fine,” she agreed shortly.
“Okay.” Celia leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Good night, sweetheart. Go to sleep now, okay? I love you.”
Lily was silent and Celia got up and left.
The following afternoon, Celia leaned against the wooden fence around the riding ring, smiling at Peyton and Lily. The sunshine combined with a warm glow of affection for the two little riders partially eclipsing the heartbreak that had lurked near the surface since Friday morning. A small part of her was worried what would happen next month and the month after that, but this month’s lessons were paid for and she’d cross the next bridge when she came to it.
She’d set up a call with Susan and Jan for Thursday, which meant rearranging her Co-op schedule and, for good measure, farming out Rowan and Rosie to Tracie so she could be sure she wouldn’t be interrupted.
She just wished she knew where Richard stood on her involvement with Susan’s company. Maybe she’d find out tonight, she thought, anxiety at the thought of having to talk to him darting through her chest.
Of course, working for Susan wasn’t a done deal yet, and Celia was still nervous about losing the security of Richard’s paycheck. But it wasn’t just the money she’d miss, she thought to herself. She liked Peyton and the way that her enthusiasm pulled the reticent Lily out of her shell. She liked her afternoons in the comfortable house, with its gorgeous kitchen, nice furniture, and way it smelled faintly of Richard’s cologne ...
And of course, she liked Richard.
No, not liked, she admitted to herself. She was deeply attracted to him, and she’d allowed herself to hope in that moment of crazy, ridiculous, unbridled passion that he felt the same way about her. But he’d made it clear that he didn’t, and a clean break was the best move now. Once done, she’d never have to set foot in his house again, never have to be swept off her feet by the scent of his cologne or feel her heart leap at the sound of his footsteps coming through the mudroom door. She could go back to her old life, the more boring but far more peaceful one. Lily and Peyton would still see each other at school and at riding lessons, and someday she’d have the money for a nicer house of her own ... one that didn’t come with awkward strings or arrogant owners.
A clean break, yes. The sooner she was out of Richard’s life, the better.
Richard walked into his house on Tuesday evening feeling like an anxious schoolboy. Celia had pretty much given her notice and fled the night before—not that he could blame her for that. He wasn’t sure how he could have conveyed what he wanted to over the bustle of four kids anyway. Over the weekend, he had agonized over whether to call her, but he wasn’t sure what he would have said. He wanted to apologize for his behavior but he didn’t want to lead her on, and given how profoundly he’d messed up their last encounter, he had little confidence that he’d do any better on a phone call.
Really, he didn’t know what he wanted … but as uncomfortable as it would be to have her around, he knew he’d feel even worse if she quit. He felt like enough of a jerk already—he didn’t need the added guilt of knowing that she was out of a job because of his stupid behavior.
Celia was busy packing her tote bag. It pained him to see her so anxious to leave. He was a little earlier than
usual and he didn’t doubt that she would have been completely ready to leave if he’d gotten home at his regular time.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked lamely.
“Fine, thanks. Peyton has a permission slip in her backpack that you need to sign. Um ...” she hesitated, not making eye contact.
He desperately wanted to save her any embarrassment but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I was in touch with your friend Susan today,” she finally managed.
“Oh, really?” He brightened up slightly. “How did that go?”
“It went well. I’ve got a call with her and her PR person on Thursday to find out more about what they need.” She finally turned to meet his gaze. “It was really nice of you to put us in touch.”
“Yeah, well. You do good work,” he said gruffly.
“I didn’t even know you’d seen my website.”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s on your resume. I checked it out. Meant to tell you it looks great. I’m sorry I didn’t think to put you in touch with Susan sooner.” He shrugged. “Graphic design’s not really my thing.”
“Well, I appreciate it.” There was the slightest of pauses. “Okay, let me just grab the kids, and we’ll get out of here.”
For the rest of the week, she concentrated on avoiding Richard as much as possible. It wasn’t difficult; she made sure every evening that she and the kids were ready to leave as soon as he walked in the door, and she didn’t linger for any longer than it took to fill him in on anything he needed to know about Peyton before escaping, reminding herself that soon she’d leave once and for all. The sight of Richard always sent a fresh bolt of pain through her, but it lessened with each encounter. By the time Friday evening rolled around, she’d perfected the art of the swift exit, and had almost numbed herself to his presence.
And this weekend, she had something more important to think about anyway.