Amanda
Hello, it’s Amanda from the Halte. Not to alarm you, but we’ve been having a hard time calming Julian down. Probably just some gas. But we wanted to let you know, because you may need to come by earlier than planned if this doesn’t ease up.
My heart drops.Haltes-garderiesare not like typical daycares; because the staff don’t see the same children every day, they’re not as equipped to deal with heavy bouts of crying or colicky babies. And I’m not interested in putting Julian in a full-time daycare. Not until he’s at least one year old, at thevery earliest. The only reason I’m not taking advantage of the government-subsidized leave and staying home 100 percent of the time to care for him is because I’d lose all my clients if I just closed up shop for a year or more. I only took two months off where I did absolutely no work.
So it’s not about the money. It’s about building something long-term that my children can benefit from one day.
Which is why this is terrible timing. Rarely do potential clients demand to meet in person when considering my services. I can usually get away with a Zoom call from the comfort of my home. But Natalie made it very clear that she expected more from a planner. Which is why I’m in the neighbourhood now.
I quickly type a reply to Amanda asking her to keep me in the loop, and speed up my pace toward the coworking space. By now the sun is directly overhead, and the streets are getting more crowded as people are making their way out to lunch. The hum of the city fills me up and reinvigorates me, giving me fresh confidence for the upcoming meeting.
You’ve got this, Sophie. You can land clients like this in your sleep.
Ten minutes later, I’m there. I step into the warmly lit interior of the coworking space, the rich smell of freshly brewed coffee enveloping me. Large windows flood the open floor plan with natural light, illuminating sleek wood tables and plush armchairs tucked into cozy nooks. Across the room, I spot the self-serve coffee bar, where a few freelancers I’ve met before chat over steaming mugs.
To my right, rows of desks house graphic designers and writers immersed in their work, headphones on, fingers tapping away at keyboards. A set of glass doors leads to a conference room where a meeting seems to be wrapping up, participants laughing as they gather their things.
In so many ways, this is my second home. It’s the perfect place to meet new clients and make valuable connections. Scanning the room, I quickly spot Natalie seated at one of the large community tables, working from her laptop as she waits. I smooth my hair, adjust my blazer, and stride over.
“Natalie?” I ask with a warm but confident smile. She glances up, returning the smile. “I’m Sophie. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.” I extend my hand and she shakes it firmly.
“Likewise,” Natalie says, her voice deadpan. “I look forward to discussing with you.”
“Absolutely.” I sit in the chair facing hers. Right as I’m getting comfortable, my phone vibrates against my thigh in my pocket.Damn it.
I’ve turned off all notifications except for text messages. This has got to be Amanda.
“Excuse me,” I sputter, grabbing the phone. There’s a short message from her.
Amanda
Still pretty fussy … But I think he’s starting to calm down. I’ll keep you updated momma
I swallow the lump in my throat and slip the phone back into its spot. Natalie’s frowning, but she doesn’t say anything. “Right,” I begin, bringing out my signature notepad. “Now, please tell me more about your vision for this event.”
Natalie nods, then launches into a passionate speech about how she envisions this Halloween party to go. From time to time, I interject with a question or follow up to clarify something, but Natalie is doing most of the talking. Everything is going as it should.
My stupid phone vibrates again in the middle of me asking a question. I pause mid-sentence but keep going as I do mybest to keep my composure. And it works, for a minute or two. But the longer we’re talking, the more frequently my eyes drift back down towards my pocket, like they’re being drawn to it magnetically.
God, I hope Julian’s okay.
I pull myself from my thoughts and force myself to stay focused on Natalie.Get ahold of yourself, girl. He’s not dying.
But he’s my baby.
“I’m sorry, am I keeping you from something?” Natalie says dryly.
“Of course not,” I respond, hiding my fluster. I straighten and smile at her.
She raises one delicately carved silver eyebrow. “I have trouble believing that.”
This woman is no idiot. She’s pretty perceptive. Instead of coming up with another lie, I sigh and pinch my lips. “I’m sorry. It’s my son’s daycare texting me. But I’m sure it’s nothing. You have all of my attention, I swear.”
Her expression doesn’t change. Instead, she crosses her arms and leans back against her chair. “I’ll be frank, Sophie,” she says as she starts getting up.
Shit. I’m losing her.
“I know all too well the struggles of motherhood. I was once there myself.” She closes the laptop and slips it into the satchel slung across her shoulder. It’s all happening too fast. “But I’m looking for someone who can be all in. Someone who’ll answer my calls late in the evening because I’ve just had a new idea I want implemented ASAP. I understand it’s a lot to ask, but that’s who I want.” She looks me up and down. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re the best fit for my needs at this moment.”
