The three of them all sit back in their chairs, and for about thirty seconds, I hear “Huh,” “Is that so?” and, “That makes sense, actually.”
Nodding, I say, “Yeah, it makes a lot of sense, actually. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought these last few days.”
Jack nods. “You have always had a wall up.”
Darnell gestures at me with his Corona. “But you let this girl get close to you?”
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I say, “Yup. Stupid, right? I’ve gone and complicated everything when I didn’t have to.”
“You know, Mac, the best years of my life were with your grandma, raising your mom. We lost them both far too soon,” Grandpa says, sniffing and looking choked up.
“Far too soon,” Murray says, gesturing with his slice of pizza.
“But I wouldn’t trade those years for anything,” Grandpa adds. “And I would hate like hell to see you miss out on that just because you’ve had bad luck in the past.”
“Bad luck—that’s one way to put it,” I answer. “I don’t know. What if I’m not meant to have all of that? It seems like everyone I love winds up leaving.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he asks, his voice coming out gravelly.
I stare at him for a second, a lump forming in my throat. “Yeah, you are.”
“So, maybe this one’ll stick. Maybe she won’t,” he says. “But it’s true what they say about it being better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I’m grateful every day that I had your grandma in my life for as long as I did, and that we had your mom. Because if I didn’t have them, I wouldn’t have you.”
“Well, when you put it that way, there’s no way I can move to New York.”
“Of course you can,” he says with a wink. “We’re rich now. We can fly back and forth whenever we want.”
I chuckle. “You’re rich. I’m not rich.”
He shrugs, finally dealing the cards. “You should snoop around in your own bank account for once.”
32
The Grass is Always Greener in the Tower Across the Street…
Paige - Two Days Later
The past fewdays have been some of the craziest of my life. I mean, not like plane-crash crazy. More like a massive upheaval in my life’s plan. After I filled a box with my personal items and walked out the door of Prescott Marketing and Ad Solutions forever, I quickly looked up the phone number for Gamble Air on Santa Valentina island, overcome by an urge to tell Mac that I did it. That I took his advice and used the two little words that brought me to where I am right now— unemployed.
But not unemployed in that terrifying, hopeless way that sometimes happens to people. Unemployed in the terrifying, ‘the-sky’s-the-limit, you go girl’ way. Only as soon as I pressed the call send button, I immediately panicked and hung up, wondering if he might freak out, thinking that I want to move down there and get married and start having children immediately. The truth is, Idowant all those things, but just because I quit my job doesn'tmean I'm going to get them. After all, nothing has changed on his end. At least, not that I'm aware of.
So instead of being brave for the second time that morning, I lugged my personal effects to the subway station and went home. Vivian and I had a brief celebration including some sticky buns that I picked up at the bakery on the main floor of our apartment building. I was halfway through my third one (yeah, that’s right—I ate three of those bitches because after six years working for a psycho, I deserved every morsel of that sweet, sticky goodness). Anyway, I was still eating when my phone rang.
Vivian grinned at my phone. "Ten bucks says that’s Guy begging you to come back."
"Well Guy can suck it," I said, picking up my phone. But it wasn't Guy. It was Monica Rubinsky of 2M Marketing and Advertising Consultants. If there's one thing ad people know how to do, it’s spread the word quickly, which means possibly by the time I was walking down the stairs to the subway, half of New York's ad executives already knew I quit.
And this brings us to today, where I am currently being interviewed by Monica and Marcel — the 2 M’s themselves…
"So, listen, Paige, this whole thing is just a formality. You’ve basically got the job already," Marcel says, lifting the carafe on the middle of the conference room table and topping up his coffee. Then he does something Guy would never do—he gestures with the pot toward me as if to ask ifIwould like a refill.
"No, thank you," I say. "I'm feeling jittery enough."
They both give me a courtesy laugh, then Monica (who is clearly in charge) takes over the meeting. "As I said on the phone, Marcel and I are thrilled that you have suddenly become available. Someone with your talent andskills… I mean, honestly, the Vialis campaign? Genius. And that whole heart attack thing, as unfortunate as it was, is no reflection on you."
"We've seen the footage of the island. That was some out-of-the-box thinking you did to get yourselves rescued. We could use somebody with the type of untapped creativity that you possess," Marcel says, taking a sip of his coffee.
Monica nods in agreement, then says, "And we know you're a perfect fit for the culture here at 2M because you're used to working long hours?—"
