Payton waved to a few familiar faces as she waited for the elevator doors to open, smoothing her hands down her dark wash jeans. The elevator pinged, the doors slid open, and Payton was met by her mother’s crystal blue eyes, so much like her own.
“Morning, Payton,” she said, tucking a lock of her wavy blond hair behind her ear as she stepped out, her red winter jacket draped across her arm. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile. They had the same hair and eyes, but thankfully that’s where the similarities ended. “Finally ready to sit an interview and start practicing law?”
Payton’s jaw clenched. Ever since she’d graduated from law school almost two years ago, her mother had been relentless, always asking her when she was ready to join the firm, and Payton was so sick of it. She didn’t even know if she wanted to be a lawyer, but she’d yet to say those words out loud, knowing exactly what her mother’s reaction would be.
Payton cleared her throat. This wasn’t a conversation for the lobby of a busy law firm. “I was just on my way up to your office.”
“And I was just on my way out.”
Payton followed her to the door as her mother put on her jacket. “Can I walk with you?”
“Sure. I’m meeting a potential client, so, you have two blocks.”
Payton nodded. “Okay. This won’t take long.” She kept up with her mother’s brisk pace, trying to figure out the best way to say this.
Wet snowflakes danced to the ground as they joined the steady stream of people coming and going on the busy sidewalk.
“So,” her mother started. “What did you want to talk about?”
Payton stepped to the side to let a man and his child get by her, their breath evaporating into the air. She tucked her black scarf in closer to her neck, the bitter cold already reaching the bit of skin that had been left exposed.
“I’m going to go to Spain,” Payton said. “I’ll stay at Dad’s apartment in Benalmadena.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. A month or two. Maybe more.”
“I hope you don’t think you can live on your inheritance forever,” her mother said as a taxi blared its horn. “Fifty-thousand dollars won’t last long, even in Spain.”
“I’m not-” Payton took a deep breath, her gloved hands balled into fists at her side. “I don’t plan on living off it for long. I’m just trying to figure out what I want to do, and I’m tired of this cold weather. I just need a change. I haven’t been there since he died, so I know it’s not going to be easy, but I feel like I need to go... Think. Relax.”
They waited for the lights to change, the snow falling a little heavier now. “Why didn’t you tell me?” her mother asked as they started walking again. “I thought you’d be joining the firm. I understand that you needed time to grieve, but it’s been almost a year, and now you’re jetting off to Spain?”
“I haven’t been planning this. I had a dream last night,” Payton said, her boots crunching against the freshly fallen snow. “It was more of a memory, really. I was over there, with Dad, just like we used to in the summers, swimming in the ocean. It made me realize how much I miss spending time there, and I woke up this morning, thinking, why don’t I just go?”
“So, you’re letting your dreams dictate your life?”
Payton could hear the judgement in her mother’s voice, but she bit back her reply. “I’m in a very fortunate position. My father left me his old place in London and the holiday home in Spain, along with some money. I think I should use those resources to make sure I’m doing what’s best for me.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t leave it all to that tramp,” her mother mumbled.
“Hey,” Payton said. “Angela is one of the nicest people you could meet. You divorced Dad when I was fourteen, and he waited years to start dating again. He looked after her, too, not that it’s any of your business. She’s keeping the flat they bought together in Shoreditch.”
“Of course, she is.”
“Anyway,” Payton said, running out of patience. “That’s what’s happening. I know you want me to put my degree to use, and I will. Just not right now. I’m not ready to settle down. I know how hard I’d have to work to make it at Blake, Sterling, and Wilson.”
“Well, at least you have that right. I wish you would consider taking my name. Sterling has a lot of pull in this city.”
Payton sucked in another deep breath. She was definitely not going to change her last name. “Good luck with your meeting. I probably won’t see you before I go.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh. Well, I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for Payton,” her mother said, and then she was marching towards the hotel’s door. The doorman held it open for her, and she never looked back.
Payton rolled her eyes, moving to the edge of the sidewalk to flag down a taxi. She’d always been happy being an only child, never having to share her room with anyone or babysit them, but right now, she would have loved to call a sister or a brother and complain about their mother to them.
Payton knew that was how that conversation was going to go, but it still stung. Her father was the only person who ever got her, who encouraged her to go after her dreams, as crazy as they might seem, and now he was gone. A heart attack. He worked out five days a week and had a personal chef, making him healthy, nutritious meals. It just didn’t make sense. He’d only been forty-five.
A yellow taxi pulled up, and Payton tugged open the door, giving the driver the address to her apartment, glad to be out of the snow and inside the warm car. Tomorrow, she’d be in the south of Spain. She slid her phone out of her pocket to check the weather forecast. A sunny sixty-five degrees. She could do that.
Payton didn’t care if her mother thought she’d lost her mind. This is exactly what she needed. Before she was going to commit to her mother’s law firm, she needed to know if it was what she really wanted. It wasn’t until the middle of her third year in law school that she actually thought about what her life would look like if she pursued this career. She’d always done well in school, and she could remember the smallest details that someone else might have overlooked. Going to law school was the obvious choice.
Her mother had been her biggest encouragement, but only when it came to law school. She never suggested going to art school even though Payton had spent most of her free time as a child drawing or painting. Her mother never mentioned finding singing lessons when Payton’s father had gotten her a guitar for her fourteenth birthday, and she had a natural ability for it.
Payton’s only career path for as long as she could remember was to be a lawyer, to follow in her mother’s footsteps. When she graduated and Payton’s friends were all talking about what firm they were going to go to and what kind of law they wanted to practice, Payton had none of that ambition.
Two years later, she was still avoiding putting her degree to use. A lot of that came from her father’s sudden death almost a year ago. Payton knew life was short. Everyone did, but it’s not until you’re faced with your own tragedy, with your own loss, that it really starts to sink in.
The idea of seeing her mother every day, of going into the same office, sitting at the same desk, it made her shudder. She wanted to do something different, to explore all of the things she’d ignored for so long, like spending time in London or Spain, like drawing or photography.
A one-way ticket to Malaga was exactly what she needed.
Chapter Two
Jackie Willis closed her book and slid it into the pocket behind the seat in front of her, leaning back into the slightly cramped airplane seat as one of the flight attendants came onto the PA system. From her seat, Jackie could see the flight attendants making their way down the aisle, and she ducked back to get out of the way.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re expecting to hit some turbulence in the next few minutes. Please remain in your seats and fasten your seat belts.”
Jackie glanced at her watch, wond
ering if they’d be delayed. Not that it mattered when she arrived in Malaga. She knew Oliver, her best friend and business partner, would be working at their tapas restaurant and could cover for her if she wasn’t back in time to start her shift. She was just anxious to get back, to start the next chapter of her life.
She’d spent a week in London, finalizing all the paperwork after she’d sold her flat in Shoreditch. She hadn’t lived there full time in years, not since she settled in Benalmadena, a seaside town on Spain’s southern coast, but it was considered an up and coming area in London, so selling it made sense. Jackie could use the extra cash to invest in their growing business.
There was also a symbolic aspect to it, too. This was the first time Jackie had been back to London since she spontaneously booked a trip there almost a year ago in an attempt to surprise her then girlfriend, Megan.
Jackie had arrived at her doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, but when a tall man answered the door dressed in a suit and tie, his dark hair styled perfectly, as if he was ready for a photo shoot, Jackie froze. She could remember it like it was yesterday.
“Hello. Can I help you?” the man had asked, standing in the doorway.
Jackie’s eyes narrowed as she tried to process what she was dealing with. She knew Megan didn’t have any brothers. Her gut churned as she probed for more info, praying to anyone that would listen that this guy was a coworker, a friend, anyone but who Jackie was imagining he was. Jackie glanced down at her phone, pretending she was delivering the flowers and checking the order.
“I have a delivery for your wife,” she said, barely recognizing her own voice.
“For Megan?”
Jackie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes. For Megan. Here you go,” she said, thrusting the flowers into his chest as she jogged down the steps, tears already streaming down her face.
The next couple of weeks went by in a blur. Jackie had half expected Megan to fly out to Spain to see her, to explain, but she never did. She never even called. It was like someone had died. One minute, Jackie was in the most satisfying relationship she’d ever been in. Yes, it was long distance, but they did spend at least a week together every month. And the next, Jackie was blindsided. The woman she’d fallen in love with was married.
Looking back, Jackie hated herself for not questioning things. Megan visited her in Spain more than Jackie flew to London, but when Jackie did come to her, they always ended up at Jackie’s place. Megan had said something about her flat being difficult to get to, and since Jackie was only in town for a few days, they might as well go to her place, which was close to Gatwick Airport. It just made sense.
Jackie never questioned it. She’d been too crazy about Megan, but that was her old life. Jackie had spent the last eleven months hating herself, cursing Megan, but she was finally over it.
She had a thriving business with her best friend, Oliver, and she loved her life in Benalmadena where there was sunshine three-hundred and twenty days of the year. She didn’t need a girlfriend to make her happy.
Jackie’s elbow banged into the armrest as the plane jolted, her waist straining against her seat belt. A flight attendant asked the few people who were ignoring the fasten your seat belt light to return to their seats.
Jackie’s stomach rolled as the plane dipped and a woman fell into her lap. Jackie’s hands were on her waist without thinking, helping break her fall and preventing her from crashing into Jackie’s lap. The blond-haired woman ended up half in her lap with one leg caught up on the arm rest.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said, pushing her sandy hair away from her face, flashing her an embarrassed smile.
“It’s fine,” Jackie said, her hands still on her waist. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” The woman reached for the arm rest, her other hand on the back of the seat in front of them as she pulled herself up. “Thanks.” Her sea blue eyes locked onto hers for a second, and Jackie wanted to say something, but a flight attendant appeared.
“Please, mam. Return to your seat,” she said, her voice stern.
Jackie smiled as the woman turned to give her another smile as she headed towards the front of the plane, taking a seat about five or six rows away. A tingling sensation swept across Jackie’s bare arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps. When was the last time she’d had a woman in her arms?
More than a year ago. The last time she saw Megan.
Jackie pushed those thoughts away. She was officially done thinking about Megan and how fucked up that situation was. She was making a fresh start, and as Oliver kept reminding her, she was young. She was only thirty-seven years old.
She had all the time in the world, and she’d only wasted a year with Megan, although Jackie would argue that it had been two. One when they were actually together and the last year. She hated that it had taken her so long to get to this place where she was finally ready to move on. But she was. She’d sold her flat, and for Jackie, that was pretty final.
Her life was in Benalmadena now.
Chapter Three
Payton’s hands rested on the edge of the balcony wall, her silk robe smooth against her skin. She’d just had an extremely relaxing morning. She’d brought a cup of coffee out here three hours ago to watch one of the most beautiful sunrises she’d ever seen, the oranges and pinks bright against the blue ocean.
After a shower and a bowl of fruit salad for breakfast, she was ready for another cup of coffee. She swept her damp hair over one shoulder, feeling lighter this morning than she had in months.
Coming here was the right decision. When she arrived in Malaga last night, she’d taken a taxi to her father’s apartment in Benalmadena and gone straight to bed. She was tired, jet-lagged, and it was only this morning that she could relax and appreciate her surroundings. She’d make herself another coffee, sit out on the balcony, and enjoy this view.
Payton combed her fingers through her damp hair as she went into the kitchen, taking a navy and white pinstriped Yankees mug down from one of the cabinets, her hand trembling at all the memories it brought back. Her father always made sure that she had a mug with her favorite baseball team’s logo. It was something he started doing when she visited him in London for the first time, when she was fifteen.
Payton could still remember the first time her father had introduced her to tea. He’d said that if she’d grown up in England, she would’ve had her first cup years ago. She sat up on the kitchen counter in their apartment one Saturday afternoon. She was fourteen. She knew because it was one of the last ‘normal’ days before their parents announced that they were splitting up.
She’d watched him add milk and a spoon of sugar, giving it a good stir before passing her the mug. It had taken her a few cups to get used to the bitterness, but once she did, she loved it.
Payton often wondered what her life would have been like if she moved to London with her father when she was fourteen instead of staying in New York with her mother. She didn’t even remember getting the chance to decide. They’d just told her that he was going to be living in England and that she could go visit him and spend the summers with him if that was what she wanted.
Looking back, Payton would have done anything to have had those extra years with him. She should have said something. She should have put more thought into applying for law school, too. It had all just happened, and now at twenty-five years old, Payton was finally ready to start making some decisions for herself. She was tired of trying to please her mother, and her father was gone. It was time to start living for herself. She had no idea what that meant, but that’s why she was here.
There was something about the South of Spain that she’d always felt connected to. She’d loved coming here with her father. It had always been the highlight of her summer, getting to spend two or three weeks exploring Malaga with him, practicing the Spanish she was learning in high school. She should have realized that this would be emotional, coming back here without him, but Payton knew this would be good for her, even if the first
few days were rough.
Payton filled the kettle and was about to switch it on when she heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. She froze, her hands gripping the edge of the cool marble countertop, hoping that she was hearing things.
Payton ran through her options. She could make some noise, let whoever it was know that there was someone here or she could stay where she was, out of sight, and find something to defend herself with.
She pulled a knife out of the wooden block sitting on the counter, her heart thumping in her chest as she crept around the counter, inching closer to the living room and the front door. Payton met a wide-eyed woman, her hands raised as she backed up against the apartment door.
“Woah, woah,” the woman said, a half-smile on her lips as she brushed a lock of black hair away from her eyes. “There’s been some kind of a mix up.”
Payton lowered the knife just slightly. “Really? Because this looks like breaking and entering gone wrong.”
“What? No, I meant that you must have the wrong apartment. Who did you book your holiday with?”
Payton’s eyes narrowed, processing the words that came out of this woman’s mouth in that familiar London accent. It was just like her father’s.
“Wait,” the woman said, relaxing a bit as she took a few steps towards Payton. “You’re... You were on my flight. You practically fell into my lap.”
Payton’s cheeks burned, but it was her. Now, that they were just a few feet away, Payton recognized those hazel green eyes.
Payton had been embarrassed initially, but when she caught the woman’s eye on her way back to her seat, she thought she saw something there, a hint of attraction. Payton could also have been dreaming, because it had been months since she’d had another woman’s arms around her waist like that.
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