“I’m not hiding. I’m avoiding.”
Surely, she didn’t mean me. You didn’t just come out and tell someone you were avoiding them, right? I went to stand in front of her with my peace offering. “Want some candy?” I asked, showing her a Butterfinger. “A wise man once told you it’s as good as sex.”
“A wise man does not call himself a wise man.”
“Touché.” She still hadn’t looked up from her work. “Who are you avoiding?”
“Not who, what. I’m avoiding an awkward conversation. An uncomfortable workspace. An unwelcome truth.” She took a breath. “I think it’s best if I just work in here the next couple days.”
All right, maybe she was talking about me. “What unwelcome truth?”
She began typing.
“Georgina, what happened in your meeting with Vance?” I asked. “Why are you leaving early?”
“You don’t need me anymore, and your job is safe—”
“Fuck the job. What about us?”
Her fingers froze. Finally, she lifted her eyes to mine. “There’s no us. There’s you, and there’s me. You are staying on as creative director. I am moving on to my next assignment.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” I tried to keep the irritation from my face. “We had an argument this morning. So what? Let’s figure it out.”
“How do you think it made me feel to realize that the man I’d just woken up next to, a man I’d gone against all my instincts to trust, would hold me back to keep himself happy?”
“Pretty shitty, if that’s how you took it,” I said.
“You called me unqualified. You said I don’t have what it takes.”
“And you know that was my anger talking. Nothing more. Of course I want you to succeed and your career to flourish. I think you’re good at this job—hell, you’re better at it than I am.”
She looked down and muttered, “That’s not true.”
“Look. I’ve been on edge about all this ever since you started. This morning, it came to a head, but I didn’t mean the things I said.”
She sighed back against her chair and fidgeted with a tiny button near her throat. “Thank you, but . . .” She lowered her voice. “We have to be honest with ourselves. The unwelcome truth is that last night was a mistake.”
“You can describe last night a lot of different ways, but mistake is complete and utter bull, Georgina.” I scowled. “No argument could convince me of that.”
“Sleeping with a coworker is never a good idea, but especially for us. We were at each other’s throats on day one. We’re just not compatible.”
“I don’t buy that.”
“I’m not selling anything. I’m simply saying how I feel.”
It occurred to me that our roles had flipped. Now, I was the one at the front of the room asking to be let in, and she was pretending she didn’t care—the same way I’d dismissed her at our very first meeting. Why had I treated her that way? Out of pure fear. I’d been terrified of change, loss, and failure. “You’re scared,” I said.
She slammed her laptop shut. “Yes, I am. Of repeating my past.”
“The last thing I want is for you to think I tried to exploit your kindness,” I said. “You know that’s one of the things that drew me to you in the first place.” She opened her mouth looking ready to protest, but I cut her off. “Not weakness. Kindness.”
“And what happens if I forgive you this time? What if I pick a restaurant or neighborhood or vacation spot you don’t like?” She opened her hand on the table. “Will your first instinct always be that I should sacrifice so you can have what you want? Will mine be to give it to you?”
I clenched my jaw. That fucking hurt. “After the day we had, after I cut myself open and bled to you all the things I can’t talk about, you’re going to keep treating me like Neal?”
Her cheeks reddened. “As soon as I admitted I had feelings for you, I started acting the same way I did in that relationship.”
“You’re acting chickenshit is what you’re doing,” I said.
She pulled back. “This is my life, and I’m not going to second-guess myself because you don’t understand it.”
I took a breath, an attempt at composure as she burrowed deeper under my skin. “I’m trying here, Georgina. What I’m failing to articulate is that I’m not ready to call it quits. I made a mistake this morning, and I’m apologizing because you’re one of the best things that has happened to me in a long time.” I shoved a hand through my hair, looking for a way to ask for what I wanted while being sensitive to her fears. “I want this to work. Does me telling you that feel like I’m pushing you?”
She glanced at the table. “No.”
“Then that’s what I want.” I paused. “And if you’re walking away from something you want because I was an idiot, then you’re still letting a man dictate your decisions.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said, anger threading her words.
“But true.” I tossed the Butterfinger on the table. “For when your cravings hit tonight.”
I returned to my office, leaving her to glare after me. Did the truth hurt? Good. At least she wasn’t indifferent. I’d been in the enemy zone for months and the relationship zone for a night. But indifference? Give me death. Because it was true what they said—there was a thin line between love and hate, and while it existed, I still had a shot with her.
24
GEORGINA
As my apartment building’s ancient elevator ascended, I sagged against a wall until the doors opened at my floor. I didn’t think I could get any more tired after falling for, making love to, and breaking up with Sebastian in under forty-eight hours. Seeing him at work today had been hard and avoiding him was even harder.
Especially since I always wanted to know where he was, what he was working on, and who he was with.
As usual, Bruno heard me coming down the hall. His nails clicked the wood floors inside as I unlocked the door. One step in and he was circling me, wagging his tail and whining for attention.
“Hi, baby boy,” I cooed, ruffling his fur. No matter how my week was going, this would always make it better. I kissed the top of his head. “How was your day?”
I dropped my keys in the handmade ceramic bowl my mom had sent me for my last birthday and headed into the kitchen. Fortunately, Gordie had been able to stay late so I could finish up at work. I’d gotten so much done without Sebastian around, there wasn’t even much left to accomplish.
When I noticed Bruno’s food bowl was full, I pulled Gordie’s note from a magnet on the fridge. “Couldn’t get him to eat tonight.”
At my side, Bruno nudged his face into my hip. Unlike most dogs, he didn’t go crazy over his meals, but he didn’t skip them that often. “You hungry?”
I picked up his bowl, added a little more wet food on top, and set it back down. Once he’d sniffed it and began to eat, I unzipped my skirt and flopped onto the couch with my trusty remote. I’d only managed to turn on the TV when Bruno wandered out of the kitchen and jumped onto the couch. He put his head in my lap.
“There’s no way you ate that fast,” I said to him. “What’s up, buddy?”
He sighed, raising big gray-blue eyes.
I pet his head. “You’re needy tonight. Maybe I’ve been neglecting you lately.”
Apparently, ignoring the ones I cared about took it out of me. Or, maybe like me, Bruno was just missing his new friend Sebastian. As if trying not to think about him wasn’t hard enough, he’d already called once since I’d left the office.
I wasn’t ready to talk. My emotions were still running high, and that would only get me into trouble. I wasn’t smooth like him—I’d proven myself susceptible to giving in to others when I didn’t even know I was doing it.
My cell rang, and despite the fact that I was still avoiding him, my heart leapt with the thought that it might be Sebastian. I got it from my purse, slightly disappointed to see my boss’s name. She rarely called after eight o�
�clock, so it had to be important. I muted the TV to answer.
“Georgina?” Dionne said. “I’m glad I got you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” She hesitated. “Well, maybe. I’ll get right to the point. I caught wind that Modern Man is going to offer you a job.”
I sighed. “They already did.”
“I see.” She blew out a breath. “You know I’d never keep you from doing what you need to, which is why there’s nothing in your contract that says you can’t leave to work for a client. But I hope you’ll give me a chance to convince you to stay.”
“I’m not going to take it,” I told her. “But you and I need to have a meeting about salary. What Vance offered me made me realize I should be making more.”
Dionne hummed. She couldn’t really argue considering she’d taught me to constantly reevaluate my worth. “We don’t need to meet,” she said. “I’m going to pay you more anyway, considering you’ll be running the agency for me.”
I blanched. “What? Where are you going?”
“We’re opening a second location in Boston. It was between there and Philly. There’s been a lot of demand, what with some media companies being priced out of the city.”
“But what about you?” I asked. “Are you moving there?”
“No way, just getting things up and running for the next six months or so. I’m already interviewing people to manage that office so I can begin training as soon as I arrive.”
I picked through the couple gray hairs around Bruno’s snout. “What happens to my job when you get back?”
“You’ll go back to what you’re doing now, but at the new, higher salary. We can discuss that once we see how the next few months go.”
I should’ve been elated that I’d be getting more money to do the same job, not to mention a change of pace, but was she only handing me this to keep me from leaving? I hadn’t even argued a case for why I deserved it.
“I appreciate it, I really do,” I told Dionne, “but I think I need . . . more.”
“More money?” she asked. “We haven’t even discussed—”
“No. Just more.” I took a breath. It felt weird to say since I’d been pretty content up until recently. I supposed I had Sebastian to blame for reawakening this in me after Neal had killed it—the urge to do better. Be better. “I don’t know what that means yet. I’m happy to take your spot while you’re away, but when you get back, I need something else. Something to push me. I’m afraid I’ve gotten too comfortable.”
“Something like Boston?” she asked. “If you’re looking for a challenge, you could always go open that office instead of me.”
That wasn’t what I’d meant, but the suggestion made me pause. “Open it as in . . .?”
“Move there and run it,” she said simply. “Why not?”
I’d thought there wasn’t any higher to go under Dionne, but managing my own branch was certainly a step up—maybe several. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely. Now that I think about it, you’d be a great fit, Georgina. With the aptitude and knowledge you bring to each assignment, plus a process you’ve honed over the years, you could easily take this on.” I heard her smile over the phone. “How does the idea of assembling your own team sound?”
“It sounds . . . interesting, if not a little daunting.”
“You never back down from what I give you, even if it feels like too much. You know you’re a natural leader.”
I tried the designation on for size. Hadn’t I led Modern Man away from the brink, along with many other companies? I didn’t often think of my role in those terms because the teams I joined were always temporary and usually had their own leaders, like Sebastian.
“Would I still get to work with clients?” I asked.
“I should hope so. Only the ones you choose to, since you’ll eventually get to know the strengths and weaknesses of the people under you. And who knows, Georgina. Maybe you’ll be lucky enough, like me, to find someone to mentor.”
A leader and a mentor. Maybe those were the ways to enrich my career outside of promotions and money. What I got out of my work wasn’t just a paycheck, but a sense that I had helped. If it weren’t for me, perhaps some of these companies would’ve gone under by now. Along with their employees.
“I like the sound of it,” I admitted.
“I’d certainly sleep easier knowing you were there, and maybe it’s selfish, but I’d prefer not to have to leave New York.”
Leave the city? I’d never even considered it. It’d been my home since my early twenties, and the thought of starting over somewhere new made my heart pound. I loved it here, but I’d never really been anywhere else. I’d gone from my childhood home in Buffalo to college upstate to the city. If I wanted a challenge, leaving the life I knew was one way to do it.
“Can I think about it?” I asked.
“Absolutely, but not too long. Things are already in motion. You said you’re about done at Modern Man, so why don’t you take Bruno and spend a few days in Boston, see how you like it.”
“We’ve been,” I said.
“I know, but you’ve probably never looked at it through the lens of living there.”
Me. Living in Boston.
Home to my rival team.
To a top veterinary cardiologist in the country.
And the one place Sebastian would never go.
I pushed that thought from my mind. This wasn’t about him—it couldn’t be.
I hung up with Dionne in a daze. “What do you think?” I asked Bruno, playing with his big old floppy ears. “Could you see yourself in Boston? Maybe a change would do us good.”
I wiped a white string of slobber off my skirt. No wonder I spent so much on dry cleaning bills. I couldn’t get more than one wear out of an outfit while Bruno was around. “And of course, I’d make more money,” I added. “Sounds good, doesn’t it?” I angled to look at him. “Bruno?”
There was more slobber on my leg than before, only now it was foamier. His breathing became labored as he stared off into the distance. Before I could even register what was happening, he started to whine, his eyes darting around as if he didn’t see me. He convulsed a few times.
His body went stiff.
The air around me vanished, my vision sharpening on Bruno’s twitching whiskers, the pink insides of his eyes, the moisture on his nostril. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not already. We still had time left, we . . .
My throat thickened as the room tunneled. My muscles locked up.
And I sat there with no clue what to do.
No, I knew what to do, but I couldn’t remember.
My vet had run crisis drills with me, but I’d never had to put any of them into practice.
Tears sprung to my eyes. My heartbeat took over my entire body. This was it. My worst nightmare playing out in front of me, and I was frozen in fear.
I couldn’t freeze, though. Couldn’t fuck this up. It wasn’t an option.
Bruno whined again. Or were my ears ringing? Was he having a seizure? Why was he so still?
I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to think back to my conversation with Doctor Rimmel. If this was a seizure, nothing could be done until it was over except to make him comfortable. His eyes were open, though, and he’d stopped jerking, only his paws spasming as if he were dreaming.
I took a deep breath and slowly picked up my phone from the couch. “It’s okay, baby,” I said, bile rising in my throat as I unlocked the screen with shaky fingers. I ordered a cab from the company that normally took us to the vet just as Bruno’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he lost consciousness.
“Oh my god,” I said, shaking him. “Bruno?”
When he didn’t respond, I jumped up, ran to the entryway with a stack of magazines, and propped open the door. Hitching Bruno’s emergency bag over my shoulder, I shoved my feet in my heels and hurried back to Bruno while zipping up my skirt. “You’re okay, baby. We’re okay.”
I kneeled beside him. “I’m going to pick you up now—just relax.”
No response.
If I’d had time, or courage, I would’ve checked for a pulse. I slipped my arms under his body and lifted, but he didn’t budge. “No,” I whispered so he wouldn’t wake up to the despair in my voice. My body couldn’t fail me now. Bruno weighed almost as much as I did, but so fucking what? Couldn’t a jolt of adrenaline give me superhuman strength? I tried again to no avail and stood, running my hands through my hair. I bolted into the hallway to bang on the door of my six-foot-something neighbor who always seemed to be coming home from the gym.
After a few seconds, I rushed back into the apartment. I dialed Luciano—no answer. I tried Bruno’s dogsitter next—nothing. I steeled myself, bent my knees as I slipped my arms underneath him, and put everything I had into it.
It wasn’t enough.
I fell back onto the ground as a sense of helplessness flooded me. I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t. Bruno needed me to keep a clear head.
For maybe the first time since my breakup with Neal, I felt truly alone. Maybe bad friends and a worse boyfriend were better than nothing at all.
My phone buzzed with a text message from Sebastian. I grabbed it to call him just as Bruno stirred, woke up, and began to squirm.
“Shh,” I said, latching on his leash a second before he jumped off the couch and stumbled toward the door. I didn’t even have time to feel relieved; I kicked the magazines aside on our way out so the door would close as I steered Bruno toward the elevator.
Once we’d boarded, I kneeled to face him. His eyes held either fear, confusion, or both. The lack of recognition made a lump form in my throat. In the strongest, clearest voice I could manage, I said, “Good boy, Bruno.” I touched his warm forehead and swallowed painfully. I wanted to curl into a ball on the ground. To be at the vet five minutes ago. To break down, when I couldn’t even afford to fracture. “Good boy,” I repeated. “I’m here.”
I could get us to the hospital with my eyes closed, but fortunately I wouldn’t need to. When the doors opened, I sprinted for the cab.
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