Page 82 of The Maine Event

First things first, I need to find the perfect office space. I pull up a few real estate listings on my phone, scanning through the options. It needs to be somewhere that reflects the innovative and dynamic spirit of the agency I’m building. Somewhere that will inspire creativity and collaboration.

I bookmark a few promising listings and make a mental note to set up some viewings as soon as possible. The sooner I can secure a space, the sooner we can hit the ground running.

As I arrive back at the hotel, I’m practically buzzing with energy. I know there will be long days and late nights ahead, but I’m ready to pour my heart and soul into this new chapter. With a team of brilliant minds by my side and a drive to create something truly exceptional, I have no doubt that we’ll make our mark on the industry.

I sit down at the desk in my room, pull out my laptop, and dive headfirst into the whirlwind of planning and preparation. There’s no time to waste—I have an agency to build, and I’m determined to make it a resounding success.

The next morning, I find myself standing in front of a charming brick building in the heart of Portland’s Old Port district. The sun glints off the large windows, and I can already picture the bustling energy of my team inside.

This could be it—the perfect home for my budding agency.

There’s something about this city that just feels right. It’s a place where tradition meets innovation, where hard work and creativity go hand in hand. And that’s exactly the spirit I want to capture with my agency.

Still, I hesitate.

This space isn’t just a logistical decision—it’s a declaration. A promise to myself and whoever joins me that this is real. Permanent. And with that promise comes pressure. What if I’m making a mistake? What if I’m not ready?

I step inside, the old wooden floors creaking faintly beneath my boots. The leasing agent greets me with a warm smile, and we begin touring the space. With each step, I try to silence the doubts and focus on what could be. I envision sleek modern workspaces, collaborative meeting rooms, and a cozy lounge area where we can unwind and brainstorm.

I stop near the largest window and let my hand brush against the brick wall. My mind fills in the blanks—laptops open, sticky notes everywhere, music in the background, a team of smart, funny, driven people who believe in what we’re building. It’s just a shell now, but I can see it all so clearly. And in that clarity, the fear starts to fade.

This isn’t just an office. It’s a second chance. A fresh start. A leap of faith.

The leasing agent turns to me, eyebrows raised. “What do you think?”

I pause for a moment longer, letting the weight and the wonder of it all settle.

“It’s perfect,” I say, a grin spreading across my face. “Let’s make it happen.” As I sign the lease and shake the agent’s hand, I feel a surge of pride and determination. This is it—the first official step in bringing my vision to life. And I know, deep down, that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey.

I step back out onto the cobblestone streets, my heart full of hope and anticipation. The future is wide open, and I can’t wait to see where this path will lead. But one thing is for sure—with a talented team by my side and a passion for creating something remarkable, there’s no limit to what we can achieve.

TWENTY-ONE

I stride into The Maine Mall, my heels clicking against the glossy floor tiles with determined purpose. The familiar scents of pretzels and perfume samples waft through the air as I navigate the bustling corridors. I didn’t plan to be here this long—didn’t plan to be here at all beyond the meeting with Jonathan Harcourt. But then again, I didn’t plan to be launching an agency in Maine either.

I only packed for a few days. One decent pair of heels. Two blouses that could pass for professional if you didn’t look too closely. Nothing suitable for the next few weeks of hiring, networking, and staking out the office lease.

Now, I need clothes. The right clothes. A suit that says leadership, not burned-out refugee. A coat that can handle a Maine November. A few pieces that can take me from client meetings to café catch-ups without making me feel like I’m impersonating a grown-up.

Because this is real now. I’ve said yes. I’ve leased a building. I’m staying—at least until the agency’s up and running. Then I’ll go back to Chicago, pack up the rest of my life, and come back for good.

Today is about getting what I need to look the part. Not just for others—but for myself. A uniform for the next chapter. Proof, in fabric and fit, that I’m not just reacting anymore.

I’m building something.

My steps falter as I pass the boutique where Chloe and I had spent a giddy afternoon choosing her dress for the singing competition. The mannequins still wear their dreamy pastel gowns, unchanged, like time hasn’t moved on—except, of course, it has. That day feels like it belonged to a different version of myself. One who hadn’t yet let Chloe down.

I pause, staring at the window display. She’d twirled in the changing room, all elbows and excitement, and asked me—me—if she looked beautiful. I’d told her yes, and meant it with my whole heart. Then I’d left before I got to see her wear it for real.

A pang hits, unexpectedly. Not guilt exactly. More like… the ache of unfinished business. Of wanting to have been someone she could count on.

I exhale slowly and move on. I can’t undo what’s already been done. But I can show up better going forward.

I scan the storefronts for something suitable. A chance to reinvent myself, to shed the weight of past regrets and forge a path that allows room for both ambition and genuine human connection.

The mall’s lively chatter swirls around me, a symphony of laughter and chiming cell phones. For once, I let myself get swept up in the energizing current, imagining a future where I’m not just an observer of life’s vibrant moments, but an active participant. With each step, I feel a flicker of hope, a tentative excitement about what lies ahead.

As I round the corner, a familiar logo catches my eye—a stylized coffee cup emblazoned on a chic storefront. The rich aroma of freshly ground beans beckons, promising a moment of indulgence amidst the day’s mission.

---