A tremor went through her as images from her childhood popped into her head: Dad at his desk, eyes fixed on his computer, barely giving her a glance when she came in to say good night. The empty seat at the dinner table. Her mum driving her and her sisters to the beach on their family holiday that had turned into a girls’ holiday because her dad couldn’t miss an important meeting.
Her dad’s funeral, where only her mum had cried.
Why had she been so terrified of turning into her mum when it was her dad she took after, her dad she should worry about turning into?
The cab was waiting for her. In a daze, she handed the driver the case and slipped into the back seat. She pulled out her phone to turn it off and saw she had another message, this one from Meera.
Just wanted to say good luck. Got to admit, I was rooting for Connor, seemed like a keeper, but you are going to kill it in the Big Apple x
Her stomach rolled, and Olivia pressed a hand to it, feeling a spiraling sense of panic.
This was going to be the hardest part, she reminded herself, the time when the doubts would surface. Once she got to New York, it would be easier.
New York. A city that had never been part of her plan.
She tried to tap a message back to Meera, but her fingers were shaking too much.
Numbly, she pressed Call.
“Hey, I didn’t expect you to phone. Figured you’d be at the airport by now.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Ah, you’re having a wobble,” Meera said softly. “Are you phoning in the hope I’ll reassure you, tell you you’re doing the right thing?”
“I am, aren’t I? You know me. This job is what I set my heart on when I joined the company fifteen years ago.”
“Sure it is.” There was a pause. “But dreams can change.”
Her heart stuttered. “I’ve tried relationships,” she said brokenly. “They didn’t work out.”
Meera scoffed. “You’ve dated guys you could pick up and drop with ease. Who you didn’t think about when you weren’t with them. Something tells me the guy who stormed into our office to have it out with the man who’d upset you won’t be as easy to forget.”
“I know he won’t.” She pushed the words past the bowling ball–size lump in her throat. “It doesn’t mean I’m wrong for leaving, though. Doesn’t part of you look at me and regret what you could have had if you’d not chosen to take a step back for the sake of your family?”
Laughter echoed down the phone. “Sure, when I come home from work and the house is a mess and the kids are griping. But ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, I wouldn’t have my life any other way.” She paused, and when she spoke again, her tone had turned serious. “Jobs come and go, Olivia. Look how they suddenly changed the goalposts for you, shoving the role out to New York. Who’s to say next time they won’t reshuffle and decide to send you somewhere else? Or decide they don’t need a CIO? Family—they’re my anchor, my purpose. The people who love me unconditionally. Work only loves me when things go right. My family love me no matter what.”
And Connor loved her.
She thought of all the times he’d asked about her job, the interest he’d shown in the battle with Stuart, the way he’d helped her prepare for the interview. He’d wanted her to get this promotion. It wasn’t Connor making her choose between him and her career, it was this job making her choose because it had moved to New York.
“You know the decision doesn’t have to be so black-and-white,” Meera added.
Her heart aching, thoughts spiraling so much she felt queasy, Olivia listened to what her friend had to say. Then she turned off her phone and shoved it back into her bag.
She had the rest of the cab journey to decide whether this job was still her dream or whether her dream had shifted to include the man and the girl she was currently leaving behind.
And if it had, was she willing to risk her credibility and her future career prospects by turning this job down on a hope and prayer that Connor’s feelings for her wouldn’t change?
Connor reread the message from Jessica.
Liv is flying today on 3:35 p.m. BA from LHR to JFK. Last chance to stop her.
As if it were within his capability to do that.
“Dad?” Ellie tugged at his hand. They were sitting on the sofa waiting for his parents to come round to look after Ellie so he could go and play football. He had to do something to take his mind off the fact that the woman he loved was leaving the country.
“Sorry, Turnip.” He tried to give her a smile. “I was miles away. What did you say?”
