Page 4 of Conflict
“WINTER BREAK!” I exclaim the moment my sister opens the door to her apartment.
I barely notice she’s still wearing her pajamas as I push past her, looking around for her luggage.
“Winter break? Really, Lyss?” Ariana scoffs, wrinkling her celestial nose in my direction.
Her lack of enthusiasm has me rolling my eyes. Ari graduated with her bachelor’s nearly six years ago, and I just finished earning both my MBA and CPA, but still, this is technically my last winter break as a college student, even if I’m not quite that anymore.
In fact, not much is actually changing in my life except a lot less time studying and a lot more time spent at my accounting job. During my second year of college, I started interning at one of the most prestigious firms, Wellsley-Callahan, in Atlanta. After earning my undergraduate degree in accounting, I slid right into an entry-level position at the firm. Ever since, my star—okay, it’s still pretty dim—has been rising, and now that I have my MBA, I’m moving six floors up, straight beneath the CFO’s office, ready to rock, roll, and well… account.
It’s kind of amazing that I’ve been able to work my way up the corporate ladder in a short amount of time—though it felt like forever. It helps that Sawyer Callahan, CFO and heir apparent for the Callahan branch of the company, believes in fostering young talent. It also probably helps that he’s CFO and not even thirty, so he can spot potential where he sees it.
And thank goodness, he apparently sees it in me.
Heck, as if I needed any more reason to think the guy was a saint, he gave me a two-week vacation as a bonus, telling me to take time after graduation to relax before I “jump into the big leagues with a desperately needed pair of fresh eyes,” as he called it.
Part of me didn’t even want to take the time. I’m eager to jump into my career feetfirst. But Sawyer insisted, so here I am, ready for the beach. All that stands between my future and me is Christmas, New Year’s, and two weeks of fun in the sun.
It’s my last hurrah. My last to-do as no-time-for-fun Alyssa Covington before I become professional Ms. Covington, C.P.A. And I amsolooking forward to a week in the sun and sand with my sister. Because, if I think about it, it’s been a long damn time since I had some fun. The past seven years have been spent working at WC or with my head in books, and I haven’t had a vacation since the summer before I started my master’s program.
I’ve more than earned this.
“Well, it may be winter break for you, but for me, it’s just a fucking much-needed break,” Ari huffs, her breath sending an errant bang up and out of her eyes.
The chill in her tone takes me back. Ari, much unlike me, is the prim and proper one of the Covington sisters. Southern born and bred. I can literally count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard her curse, as Mother had drilled into us that becoming ladies did not utter such drivel. It took with Ari. Me? Not so much.
I study my sister now, really seeing her. She’s wearing rumpled flannel pajamas that hang off her, and I know she hasn’t been eating enough. Getting into wedding shape, Mother calls it, even though Ari didn’t have a single pound she needed to lose. Her usually perfect hair is on the top of her head in a messy bun. Dark circles rim her eyes, and I wonder if she’s been getting any sleep. Apparently, she needs this vacation as much as I do.
“Ari?” I ask, closely watching her face. “Is everything okay?”
She clears her throat and looks up at me with what a fake smile. The sight of it causes my blood to boil. It’s the same look I’ve seen on her for the past two years.
Ever since our father announced her engagement to the utterly dull, smarmy Benjamin, his business partner’s son and the bane of my sister’s existence (though she won’t admit it), Ari hasn’t been the same. I want to shake her, to tell her to stop this charade, that for once in her life she can defy our parents. It’s precisely what I plan to do this week. I’m not opposed to being the one to jump up and protest when Father Jacobs asks if anyone sees a reason for the marriage not to happen, but for Ariana’s sake, I’d rather she stop the wedding before it even starts.
“Oh, I’m fine. Just…you know how Mother is. She’s a nightmare with this wedding planning. And then add in Benjamin’s? It’s like my opinions don’t matter. You’d think they were the ones getting married. To be honest, I don’t even know why they invite me to these wedding planning sessions. I’m clearly not needed.” She pauses, then downcast eyes meet mine. “I just need to get away for a while.”
More than ever, I’m happy I was able to coerce her into going on this trip with me. But I can’t hold my feelings in anymore. “Are you… I mean…are you sure you want to go through with it? To marry Benjamin? There’s still time to back out. You have plenty of time to decide.”
Tears well in her eyes, but she quickly blinks them away and clears her throat. “I…I don’t know. Oh, God, Alyssa, does that make me awful? It’s just, the closer we get to the wedding day, I don’t know… It just feels like something’s missing. I can’t envision a life with him. The other part of me just wonders if it’s pre-wedding nerves and I’m just being silly. That’s why I need this trip. I need to get away from our parents and Benjamin and decide what to do.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and give her a tight squeeze. “Then let’s get packing. A week with nothing but sunshine, sand, and margaritas is exactly what you need.”
For the first time in far too long, a genuine smile crosses my sister’s lips. “Thanks, Lyss. God, that felt so good to say out loud. I just wish I didn’t have the charity dinner tonight so I could drive down with you today. The sooner I’m out of here, the better.”
We planned to make the drive from Atlanta to Navarre, Florida, together, but at the last minute, Benjamin needed her for yet another charity dinner, where he no doubt just wanted her as arm candy.
“I wish you could, too. But hey, I’ll go down, scope out the best spot on the beach, and get the condo stocked so we’ll have nothing but beachy booze-filled days for the next week. How does that sound?”
Ari’s answering smile lights up her classically radiant features. “That sounds like heaven.”
Though her smile doesn’t seem entirely authentic, I let it go and silently hope I can talk some sense into her this week.
The drive to Navarre is rather uneventful. I’m in my red Mustang convertible with the top down, blaring my favorite Stone Sour album—hello, Corey Taylor—and nothing but thoughts about the week ahead going through my mind. Winter break in Florida is treated as a slightly toned-down spring break for Southern college kids, but Ari and I aren’t planning on acting like college students on the loose. No wet T-shirt contests, body shots, or anything of the sort. All we want is an excuse to get away from the city and our parents. I foresee copious amounts of wine drinking, sun tanning, and sisterly bonding. Heck, I’ve been looking forward to it for months. As eager as I’ve been to start my new position at Wellsley-Callahan, this week of bridging my student and my professional lives couldn’t have come soon enough.
My heart soars as I cross into Santa Rosa County. I can already hear the seagulls crowing, the waves crashing. Memories of spending summers with my cousins here wash over me, and I wonder how my aunt and my uncle could’ve ever left this place. While I love living in the city, the panhandle of Florida is the closest thing to heaven.
After checking in, grocery shopping, and getting a bite to eat at a local biker bar my cousins introduced us to a few years ago, I throw a bikini on, cover it with shorts and an unzipped hoodie jacket, and then head down to the beach to enjoy my solitude in the moonlight. Even though it’s a chilly December night, the beach is busy under the full moon. With my exceptionally classy Lime-A-Rita in a can—hidden by a coozie, of course—I walk in the opposite direction of the frat boys chugging beer after beer.
When I’m far enough away from the crowd, I use my feet to flatten a place in the sand and plop down. After an intense seven-year program to get both my M.B.A. and C.P.A., relaxation on the beach is definitely what the doctor ordered. With the waves crashing in the distance and the full moon reflecting off the water, I’m at peace for the first time in far too long.
