Page 21 of Get It In Writing
Chapter Twelve - Rebecca
Turns out that without a nine-to-five job, I’m actually able to make some good money with my design business. Who would have guessed that devoting myself full-time to my passion would allow me to really make something of it?
I’ve got a regular rotation of corporate clients who I design company newsletters for, and I’m on retainer at a small copywriting firm where we collaborate together on print advertisements for a number of small businesses in the tri-state area.
And I’ve only gotten one email from Harper so far this week.
Most of the time, I just delete them without opening them.
That’s what got me into this whole mess to begin with, wasn’t it? Reading something I shouldn’t have?
So now, I figure it’s just best to keep my distance. Keep my eyes to myself.
Not look. Not peek.
Never again.
But I do get curious. Of course I want to know what he has to say for himself.
He can apologize, but what does he have to apologize for? It’s not like he did anything wrong. If I ever assumed he and I would be exclusive, that was a really stupid assumption. And I guess I was right all along. He had more than one plaything in the office. I wasn’t his only woman. Or girl. Or whatever.
I feel small. I’ve spent the last three weeks being comforted by my girlfriends.
I’m penning my shopping list on a little notepad I stole from the office. It’s not major-scale corporate theft, but I thought it’d make me feel better to take a little souvenir from the office. I was wrong, and every time I look at it I’m filled with the regret of ever having talked to Harper. Or written to him. Or having done anything with him at all, other than just nodding agreeably when he asked if the coffee had been made for one of his stupid meetings.
So why did I keep the notepad? I guess I just want to remind myself to not make the same mistake again.
I tick off the items in my head and transcribe them onto my grocery list. Eggs, milk, white wine, some frozen Indian microwavable meals. Hot pockets. A few boxes of penne pasta.
I’m torn away from my list and hear the chime on my computer telling me I have a new email. Great, as long as it’s not fromhim.
Ohh! It’s a new client. I’m always happy to open emails from new clients, of course.
Hi Rebecca,
I heard about the good work you do from a friend of a friend. I own my own business, but I’ve never had a good eye for graphic design, and my current logo is a little bit dated. I was hoping we could chat about you overhauling all the visuals for my firm. It’s a little bit ironic because I’m a designer myself, but I’m an architect and I don’t know how to visually build a brand. I can design a building, but not something that can go down on paper. Looking forward to hearing from you.
Best Regards,
Tim
Another architect? This one better not be anything like Harper.
Oh, my God. He probablyknowsHarper. If he heard about me from a friend of a friend?
Even though the business is going well, it’s not like I’m in the position to turn down new clients right now. I can use any extra work I can get. And I’ll be able to keep it professional and not ask him whether he knows Harper. Right? No, that’s silly. I should find out how he heard of me. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask a new client.
Hello, Tim,
Thanks for reaching out. Please tell me a little bit more about what you have in mind. Can we set up a meeting to discuss things further? I can chat on the phone, or we can meet in a coffee shop if that’s convenient for you. Please let me know what works best.
And one last question, would you mind letting me know who referred you to me?
Thank you,
Rebecca
That’s absolutely perfect, and I hit send right away. I start to rip my grocery list out of the notepad so I can go shopping, but I see that I have another email already. This guy’s designs must be from the 70s, or something. He’s really eager.
