Just before lunch, Richard appeared at my desk.
I looked up, startled. Richard was Editorial Director. Patricia’s boss’s boss, the man who’d mentored me through myentire career in the timeline I’d left behind. In 2014, he’d just promoted me to take his place. Here, in 1987, I was barely a blip on his radar. Or so I’d thought.
“Shaw, right?” He was in his early forties, already silver-haired and distinguished, the kind of man who wore his authority comfortably, like a well-tailored jacket. “Margaret Shaw?”
“Maggie.” I stood, smoothing my eye-watering dress. “Yes, sir.”
“Patricia tells me you have good instincts. She says you flagged the Morrison manuscript last week, the one about the fishing village?”
I had a vague memory of that, something in the writing that had felt different, more alive than the usual submissions. “It stood out.”
“It did indeed. We’re acquiring it.” He smiled, the kind of smile that made you feel like you’d been chosen for something. “I like to keep an eye on assistants with good instincts. Which is why I wanted to talk to you about an opportunity.”
My stomach tightened. I knew what was coming.
“There’s a conference in New York next week. Industry networking, some panels on market trends. Patricia was going to send Elaine, but she’s come down with something, and I thought perhaps you’d like to go instead.”
New York. The conference that had been, in my original timeline, a turning point in my career. I’d met people there who’d shaped my entire trajectory. I’d also been gone for three days, days when I needed to be fighting for my relationship instead of networking my way up the ladder.
“That’s very generous,” I said carefully. “When exactly?”
“You’d leave Friday, back Monday. All expenses paid, of course.”
Friday through Monday. February 8th through the 11th. Right in the middle of the time I had to prove to Jack that I’d changed.
The old Maggie would have said yes without hesitation. Career first. Always career first. Relationships could wait; opportunities couldn’t.
“I’m going to have to decline,” I heard myself say. “I have a... personal commitment that week that I can’t reschedule.”
Richard’s eyebrows rose slightly. He wasn’t used to assistants turning down career opportunities. “Are you sure? This could be valuable for your future here.”
“I’m sure. But I really appreciate you thinking of me.”
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Another time, then. Keep up the good work, Shaw.”
He walked away as I sank back into my chair, heart pounding. I’d just turned down the conference that had helped launch my career. For a man. For a chance at something that might not even work out.
This is either the smartest thing I’ve ever doneor the stupidest.
I wouldn’t know which until Valentine’s Day.
The phone rang at six-thirty,just as I was changing out of my work clothes and into sweats that actually let me breathe.
“I’ll get it!” Diane yelled from the kitchen, and I heard her answer with her usual cheerful “Shaw-Keane residence, Diane speaking.”
“Maggie! It’s for you. It’s aman.”
She said the word like it was written in neon. I grabbed the receiver from her outstretched hand and shooed her away,though she only retreated as far as the kitchen doorway, making no pretense of not eavesdropping.
“Hello?”
“It’s Jack.” His voice was careful, measured. The voice of someone who wasn’t sure of his welcome. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
“No.No, it’s fine.” My heart was doing something complicated in my chest. “How are you?”
“Fine. I’m fine.” A pause. “Listen, I was thinking. About what you said. At lunch.”
I held my breath.
