“You know I do!” I forced energy into my voice and dedicated myself to having a great evening with my best friend. We were junkies for reality dance and singing competitions, and fortunately for us, there were plenty to choose from. “You have a good day at work?”
“Not bad, finished up a mystery novel that has some real potential.”
Ash was an English Lit major and had the good fortune of landing an entry-level position at a New York publishing house just before we graduated as her first foray into the working world. We had thrown all our worldly possessions into a U-Haul and made the drive to the Big Apple. Both of us grew up in small towns, and despite all my travels, I had never actually lived long-term in a big city. We wanted to experience the diversity and lifestyle that came hand-in-hand with being a New Yorker. I wanted to get lost in the halls at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, meet people from all over the world, see Broadway productions, and try new, exotic foods. Unfortunately, all those things required money and slaving at the diner hardly paid for my rent, let alone dinner and a show.
“You know mysteries are my fave. You'll have to let me know when it's through edits so I can check it out.”
“Will do. We have any food?” she asked while rummaging through the fridge. Ash was not a cook, so it was generally up to me to provide meals.
“There's some lunch meat—think that's about it. Grab that and some cheese, and we can eat while we watch.” We spent the rest of the evening curled up on our small sofa watching TV and swooning over our favorite stars.
The following morning, the first call I made was to the Ulster Museum. By some stroke of luck, Fergus Campbell, the head curator, answered the phone. His Scottish brogue was enthralling, and I had to listen carefully to understand him over the phone. His flair for the dramatic became evident as he waxed poetically about Americans and their penchant for small dogs and healthy appetites. Our conversation flowed naturally as we discussed my background and the city of Belfast. Eventually, we came around to the position posting.
“Och lass, I know it's not standard procedure to hire someone without meeting face-to-face, but I think you'd be a great fit here. This job requires more than book smarts; you have to be able to work with people too. Life's a balance, and I can tell you’re good with people.”
“The traveling I’ve done has made me comfortable with all types of people and situations.” I didn’t want to overdo it, but I knew that I needed to sell myself.
“Tell me, what was your favorite place that you've been to?”
“Definitely Florence. We spent a summer there when I was a teenager and I loved every minute of it. The art, the people, and oh my goodness the food was to die for.” I closed my eyes remembering the amazing couple of months we had spent in a small villa on the outskirts of town. My mom painted and my dad wrote, leaving me free to explore the town, including one of the boys who had lived nearby. Giovanni Lorenzo had been a year older than me, lanky with dark hair and eyes, and oozing classic Italian charm.
“You forgot something though, those Italian men—nothing like them in the world.” His voice had lowered, and I could tell there was a story behind his words. I wagered that Fergus had enjoyed his time in Italy about as much as I had.
“Absolutely, they know how to charm, for sure.”
“Och, nothing like the brutes here. You’d think they were raised by goats, you would. Not to discourage you from coming; I’m sure there must be a decent one out there somewhere.”
“Does that mean you want me to come for an interview?” I bit my lip.
“Lass, I’ve been around enough years to know when I like a person. Email over your resume and references, and as long as all that lines up, you've got the job.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m certain as Sunday. You get those documents to me, and if all looks good, how quickly could you get over here?”
Like Cinderella twirling in a luxurious gown gifted by her fairy godmother, I could hardly believe my luck. Stuttering, I tried to think of how much time I would need. “Would two weeks be too much? I think I could get my affairs in order here and get myself packed in that time.”
“Perfect! Send over your information, and I'll be in touch. Lass, it’s been a pleasure talking to you.”
“You too, Fergus, thank you so much. I’ll get those documents to you right away.”
As soon as we hung up, I emailed everything to Fergus—it was important that he knew I could perform the academic requirements of the job as well as the public relations. By the end of the day, he had emailed back informing me that I had the job.
Sometimes you just know that things were meant to be, and that’s exactly how this felt. I had found the genie in the lamp and was getting my wish granted. I wouldn’t find out until sometime later that the genie himself had put his lamp on my doorstep, and my wish was not without strings.
A dozen different tasks filled my mind, but before I could get bogged down in all the things I would need to do before I left, I called my parents. They happened to be on one of their rare stints at home. My mom was thrilled not only for me but also to have a reason to take a trip to Ireland. She went on and on about the magical two weeks we spent there when I was about three years old.
While I didn’t remember the trip per se, the notion was vaguely familiar, like a niggling in my mind. It was hard to say if I actually remembered it, or if my ‘memories’ were a product of the pictures in my mom’s albums. Either way, I could definitely sense a recollection at her mention of the trip.
I assured her that I would love for them to visit but only after I had a chance to settle in. When Ash and I moved to New York, my parents met us in the city and helped outfit our apartment. Whether they were helping me unpack, meeting a new boyfriend for the first time, or helping me choose my degree path, I always had my parents' support.
Telling Ashley was going to be a lot harder. We were partners in our New York adventure and had an excruciatingly tiny efficiency apartment together where we were cramped but happy. She was loving her job. While she had started as an assistant editor, since then she had been promoted twice in the last two years and was now on the cusp of being named a senior editor herself.
That day I worked the dinner shift and wasn't home until late in the evening. While I loved to cook, my evening shifts left little time to prepare a meal, so I would bring home food from the diner. After my shift, I grabbed Ashley's favorite, lasagna with garlic bread, before heading home in the cool November air. Each step closer to our building and closer to Ash, my stomach clenched achingly tighter.
As soon as I opened the door, Ash was there to scoop the sack of food into her arms. “Oh, Becca," she moaned as she walked to the couch, which was small enough to be called a loveseat. She took a long sniff over the food containers. “Lasagna, you know how I feel about lasagna.”
“Indeed, I do. It's a good thing you have your stretchy pants on.”
“You are an evil, evil woman.”
“You love me.”
“Yeah, yeah, but will you love me when my ass doesn't fit through that door?”
I laughed as I put away my bags and hung my coat up. “How was your day?”
After opening the take-out, she fell back onto the cream-colored sofa cushions with a loud sigh. “Just super, I worked all day proofing this God-awful historical drama about the Titanic. I’m pretty sure my eyes are going to start bleeding if I have to read any more of it tomorrow. I mean, who writes a book and doesn’t even have a foundational knowledge of English grammar? And who wants to read a horrible tragedy where you know from the start that everyone is going to die? Not me, that’s who.”
“I know honey, but you are paying your dues. One day you’ll be the muckity-muck at the top of the ladder deciding what books to publish. Just hang in there.” Her pitiful eyes rolled in my direction like a child whose ice cream had just fallen onto the floor, and we both burst out laughing.
This w
as what I was going to miss most, sharing my day with my dearest friend in the world. I knew there were cell phones, and we could Facetime or Skype, but it wasn’t the same as giving each other pedicures and scouring thrift shops on our days off. I was going to miss this girl, and that thought had my eyes watering. Before I could stop, my laugh turned to sobs.
“Oh my God! What’s going on here? Are you crying? What happened?” she rushed to wrap her arms around me. “Did somebody hurt you? Tell me who it was; I’ve read plenty of mafia books—I could totally kill a man, and no one would ever find the body.”
I wavered between sobbing and laughing as I looked up into her eyes. “Ash, I have some good news, but I’m not sure you’re going to be happy about it.”
“Holy shit you got knocked up.” Her eyes grew huge. “It was that hottie in 5B, wasn’t it! You said you guys didn’t hook up! Don’t worry—”
“Ash—” I tried to cut in.
“—we will do this together, and it will all work out, I promise.”
“Ash! I’m not pregnant. I got a job … in Ireland.”
Ash's stunned eyes met mine, tears still wet on my flushed cheeks. After what felt like ages, she breathed out a huge sigh and sank back into the couch. “Oh, thank God, because no matter what I said, I’m not ready for a kid yet.”
We both contemplated that image before she peered at me curiously. “Then why are you crying? This is a good thing, right? A museum job?”
I reached for Ashley's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s an amazing opportunity, I’ll have my foot in the door at a world-class museum. But Ash, you’re my soul sister, and it’s so far away. I’m going to miss you so much, and I don’t want you to be upset at me for leaving.”
Her eyes got glassy as she sat forward. “Bec, there won’t be a day we don’t talk, so don’t you even worry about it. You need to do this, and I know I'll miss you, but I’m also thrilled for you too—how could I be mad that you're getting to chase after your dream?” She gave me a warm hug as I tried to comprehend how I had lucked into finding such an amazing best friend.
“Thank you, Ash.”
“When are you supposed to leave?”
“I told Fergus, that’s my new boss, that I could be there in two weeks.”
She nodded to herself, eyes narrowed in concentration before she spoke. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I haven’t taken hardly a day of vacation since I started my job, so I’m going to pack my shit, and I’m going with you for the first couple weeks while you settle in. We can get your new place set up, check out the area, and see how many gorgeous Irish men we can round up.”
My mouth fell open, and for a moment I had no words. “Are you sure? That’s a long trip, and it's such short notice—I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss. Not to mention it’s not a cheap trip to get over there.” I knew from the determined set of her lips and narrowing of her eyes that she had made up her mind, and there would be no arguing with my stubborn friend.
“It’s my vacation time, and I can use it if I want, and don’t start about it being expensive—I’m an independent woman with no kids and a decent job; I can decide to jet off to Europe if I want to.”
I laughed at my best friend, and my chest warmed.
She jumped up and clapped her hands together. “I'm so excited! I'd say I'm too excited to eat, but we both know that will never happen.”
Forever Lies (The Five Families Book 1) Page 23