Page 9 of From Ice to Grace
He knows me…which means he should be giving me the benefit of the doubt.
There are lines even I won’t cross. And for some reason he thinks I will.
I give him the best smile I’ve got. The one I usually give to a woman right before she caves and breaks all her usual rules.
“Exactly, so you can sit down and relax. Your sister is not my type,” I say, slapping him on the shoulder. “And I’m certainly not hers.”
EJ looks at me for a second longer before relenting and taking his seat. I move past him, not missing Nikolai’s chuckle. I have half a mind to join him, because the idea of me and Avah…is ludicrous. Taking my seat, I pull out my phone in time to see a text.
Aunt Kat: I watched the game, Sweetheart. Are you alright? I’m praying for you.
My heart twists, and instead of replying, I turn off my phone. Shoving my earbuds in my ears, I drown out the world and the people in it. I want nothing more than to get home, pour myself a drink, and forget this night ever happened.
2
AVAH
Clutching the triple-shot cappuccino I got from the coffee cart on the first floor, I open the door to Vivienne Ravel’s office. Every part of my body is tired, and I need the caffeine to kick in as soon as possible. Flying to Florida for EJ’s away game last night wasn’t the best idea. Especially since I had to fly straight back afterward to make the emergency meeting with my boss this morning. But it’s the start of his season and I wanted to be supportive.
“You wanted to see me?” I ask the Editorial Director of Maple Row Publishing House, stepping into her corner office. The view from up here is absolutely breathtaking, and I can’t help but think I’d love an office like this too some day.
“Yes,” she says, tucking her steel-silver bob behind her ear before gesturing to the chairs in front of her. “Please take a seat, Avah.”
I nod, closing the door behind me. The crick in my neck has me rolling my shoulders before settling into the plush leather chair. She rearranges a few documents before settling her gaze on me.
“You’ve had an amazing year at this company, Avah,” she says, offering me a warm smile. “The perspective you bring to the table is exactly what we need here.”
“Thank you, Vivienne,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee. “I love working here.”
I swallow, hating that I’m not saying more. But my brain is fried. I should’ve slept on the plane, maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting here like a zombie when given the chance to tell my boss how much I want to stay here.
But after my run-in with Declan, I couldn’t settle down. Our conversation kept replaying in my mind, over and over again. And every time the guilt in my gut doubled. Because I shouldn’t have said what I said.
The words that came out of my mouth stayed with me all night, haunting me. Even though they were true on some level, I shouldn’t have said any of it. I wouldn’t want someone to say something like that to me. I need to control my tongue when it comes to Declan Murphy.
“As you know, you came here on a J-1 trainee program, a fixed program,” she says, her voice firm but gentle. “The program ends in two weeks.”
I nod, taking another big sip of coffee. Factually, I know that my program is about to end. But for some reason, I never looked beyond it. Mostly, I kept my head down, working hard for Vivienne and this publishing house. This place has been enough for me.
“Yes, I’m aware of that. I assumed that’s why you wanted to see me this morning, to talk about my position in the company moving forward.”
That sounded coherent, right? Professional?
God, please. Why do I feel like something horrible is about to happen? You brought me here a year ago. For a reason. Why do I feel like it’s about to end?
Vivienne looks down. She sighs, folding her hands neatly over the stack of manuscripts waiting on her desk.
“Unfortunately we won’t be able to offer you a more permanent position.”
She smooths her blouse with perfectly manicured nails. Vivienne is always the picture of perfection in her pressed pants and silk blouses. Even her lipstick is perfect as she delivers the news of my world falling apart.
“What do you mean?” I ask, shaking my head as if that might help her change her mind. “You said I was an asset to this Publishing House. You’ve hinted several times about something more permanent. What changed?”
My mind is trying to figure out why I’m here, why I feel blindsided. I knew this program was only a year long. Why didn’t I have a back-up plan?
“The truth is Avah, you’ve really been instrumental to this team and our success over the past year.” She looks up at me, her gaze determined. “But despite your success and the book you’ve helped put out, we’ve had a year of loss. With indie publishing taking off, traditional publishing houses are taking a hit, and this one is no different.”
I nod, but it barely registers. I told myself I was working on my future by staying late, working hard to meet deadlines, putting in the hours…but perhaps I was just coasting. A year has gone by and I’m no further along than I was back then. I’m still holding onto the ring Axel gave me, I’m still struggling to feel God’s forgiveness and to see His Hand in my life. I was letting it all go by without participating. And now I have nothing to show for it.
