The words hit like sunshine breaking through clouds, making my chest tight with unexpected emotion. She leans closer, examining specific panels with genuine interest. “Your character work is particularly strong. These expressions carry real emotion. Tell me about the concept.”
“They’re… They’re based on office disasters,” I explain, my voice steadier than I expect. “Taking everyday chaos and turning it into an adventure for kids. Showing how mistakes can become opportunities if you look at them the right way.”
“It’s a great concept and perfect execution. I have no doubt you’ll find some interest in your work here.”
For the rest of the morning, I visit the publisher stands, making note of those that are accepting submissions. I definitely want to return to the ones that fit my style.
When my belly rumbles, I head over to the café.
“Hey, Thatcher. Join us!” Talia, a children’s book author who was at my table earlier, calls, waving me toward an empty chair. “I was telling these guys about your illustrations. Would you mind showing them?”
I take out my sketchbook and set it on the table. They gather around to flip through my portfolio.
Looking around the table at these fellow artists and writers, I feel something I’ve rarely experienced in my corporate jobs: true belonging. They understand the drive to create, to transform everyday moments into something magical.
The lunch hour passes too quickly, filled with exchanged contacts and promised collaborations. As we gather our things, Talia catches my arm with gentle pressure. “Keep in touch,” she insists, her smile carrying genuine warmth. “This industry needs fresh voices like yours.”
As I head to a panel, my phone buzzes with a message from Pierce.
Pierce:
Day off status: Successfully purchased five books I’ll never read and had coffee with a stranger who insisted on sharing her life story. Turns out I’m terrible at leisure. Can’t wait to hear all about your day
“Your boyfriend?” Talia asks, pointing at my phone.
“Oh…um…it’s complicated.”
She laughs. “Can’t be that complicated if he makes you smile like that. I should know, I married my boss.”
“You did what?”
She hooks her arm with mine as we walk together. “I got this temporary job after college at a digital printing company. Just to pay bills, you know. I hated the job, but I stuck with it for longer than I needed because I had the biggest crush on my boss. He was a few years older, and I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I just liked him.”
“What happened?”
“One day, he called me into the office and said I needed to find a different job.”
“He fired you?”
She winks. “He wanted to take me out on a date, so he figured out a way to ‘uncomplicate’ things. Ten years later, we’re still together and have five-year-old twin girls.”
Her words stay with me for the rest of the day. As I make my way back to the hotel, hope blooms with each step, even if it’s still laced with self-doubt.
Is there a world in which Pierce and I can enjoy lazy Sunday mornings in bed? Drinking coffee and sketching while he reads the financial news? Coming home to each other after long days, sharing stories about work drama and office politics like normal couples.
Is that something he would want, or are we just casual fun?
The thought that our connection and our chemistry are nothing but a bit of fun and a way to release tension for him gnaws at me, but not enough for me to disrupt the bubble we’re in.
Maybe after New York, I’ll somehow locate the courage I need to have the conversation with him, even if it means I lose him.
22
PIERCE
I’ve just kickedoff my shoes after my day of wandering the city and buying more books than I have time to read, when Thatcher bursts through the hotel room door, his eyes bright with excitement.
Before I can ask about his day, he’s crossing the space between us. The kiss carries all of his usual enthusiasm, as if his sole purpose in life is to give himself to me like this.
