Page 5 of Falling Slowly
I sank into her couch, blowing out a breath. “Thank you.”
Rhonda closed her laptop, turning her attention to me. Noticing the envelope sticking out of my pocket, her mouth curved into a smile. “I see you found the gift.”
I took a cookie she offered, eating it over the envelope. “Yeah. What is this? Why me? I did nothing special. Charlie said they’re rewarding people who worked on the Biased beer campaign but that makes no sense.”
“But you do wonderful work. If everyone’s getting something, why not you? They love doing this sort of thing for tax deductions.”
“What is Charlie getting? A new Porsche?” I huffed.
She smirked. “Don’t be too harsh on Charlie. He’s a good boy. Even if he needs someone to confiscate his credit cards.” She laughed, and I joined in, feeling a little lighter. This was the safe zone where I didn’t have to filter myself quite so hard. Rhonda knew my struggle. She knew Charlie’s lack of struggle.
“But… you know I have Celia. I’m actually waiting for Mom to pick her up right now. She threw up in class.”
Rhonda’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Oh, poor child. Is she okay?”
“I think so. She was coughing and when she coughs, she vomits. Probably because she can’t burp.”
“That’s fascinating.”
I finished the cookie, catching the crumbs on my thumb. “No, it’s disgusting. And a huge waste of food.”
“Well, she can stay here with me if that helps you get through the day. But you don’t have to worry about next week. I’ve already reallocated your work so you can attend the retreat. I called your mom. She took the week off to look after Celia. She thinks this is a great idea.”
My jaw more or less dropped off and landed at my feet. “What?”
Rhonda’s smile turned cheeky. “Well, we think you really need a break and we wanted to make sure you had no excuses.”
“But… but…”
“No ifs, no buts, no coconuts.” She picked up a cookie and took a big, crunchy bite, shaking the front of her tunic to help the crumbs over her sizable chest.
The whole thing was coconuts. Rhonda had met my mom a couple of times during childcare emergencies, but the two weren’t exactly besties. How had they cooked up a plan like this behind my back?
Rhonda shrugged, propelling more crumbs down her shirt. “Talk to your mom. You’ll see it’s all sorted. I hope you have a wonderful time. I’ve heard great things about this place.” She pointed at the envelope. “It’s right outside Cozy Creek, which is this divine mountain town with incredible views. I checked and next week is the Fall Festival. The autumn colors are exquisite up there.” She sounded like a Bridgerton character come to life.
I sighed, allowing myself to imagine it. After working non-stop for weeks, every cell in my body cried for a break. I managed, by sticking to healthy eating and daily exercise. No vices of any kind, other than too much sitting. But I still felt the little cracks—my temper getting shorter and the occasional meltdowns over minor things. So far, it had only happened at home, and once in a grocery store, but lately, it was getting harder to maintain the professional smile at work.
“I’ve never actually been away from Celia for more than one night.”
Rhonda’s eyebrows lifted in shock as she leaned back in her seat. “Really? She’s five years old. It’s okay.”
“I know it’s okay. I just haven’t had any reason.”
Where the hell would I go? I couldn’t afford a vacation. I wasn’t in a relationship. I didn’t travel for work.
Rhonda watched me for a moment, silent. She was one of the few people who could do that without making you uncomfortable. Watching and waiting with no judgment.
Her voice was soft and warm like a hug. “Bess. This is a good thing. Don’t question it. Just enjoy, okay?” She stood up and ushered me out the door. “Now go. Finish your work. I’ll grab your daughter when she arrives, and I’ll give you a buzz. Then you can go home and get ready.” She gestured at the little window on her door, which had a view of the elevators.
With a receptionist who spent half her time vaping on the balcony, Rhonda was the true ears and eyes of Wilde Creative. The one who saw everything and knew everything.
I left her office on wobbly legs. She was right—I needed to finish those agent headshots. But on the way back to my desk, I allowed myself a quick detour.
Chapter Three
Bess
Teresa stared at the screen, her forehead pinched in concentration. She had an elegant posture, a killer wardrobe and a mouth that always spoke her mind. I found her slightly terrifying, but she’d been on my side from the start, defending me with such ferocity I felt equal parts grateful and uncomfortable. It was still better than the whispers and sideways looks I received as the odd one out.
