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Chapter 10
Within Their Aesthetic
Jess drove past her grandparents' house without stopping.
She couldn't face them yet. Couldn't walk into that kitchen while Wayne's words still echoed: You made my business their business without asking.
Her phone rang. Unknown California number.
She pulled into the grocery store parking lot and answered.
“Jessica Hartley? This is Marcus Nguyen from Clarity Glass Studio in San Francisco. We received your portfolio and we're very impressed with your work.”
Jess's breath caught. She'd sent that portfolio three months ago, back when Brooklyn had felt impossible and coming home had seemed like giving up.
“Your color work is exceptional,” Marcus continued. “And your technical skill is exactly what we're looking for. We'd like to offer you a position—salary, benefits, studio access. You'd have creative input within our aesthetic framework, and we have strong connections to Bay Area galleries and collectors.”
Everything she'd dreamed of when she’d graduated from RISD. A real job, not just scraping by on commissions and hope.
“We'd need you to start December first,” Marcus said. “Is that feasible?”
December first. So soon.
“I—can I have a few days to think about it?”
“Of course. But we'll need an answer by Monday. I'll email the formal offer letter this afternoon.”
After he hung up, Jess sat gripping the steering wheel, staring at the church's white steeple against the blue sky.
A knock on her window made her jump.
Zoey Hayes peered in, concern on her face. Jess rolled down the window.
“Hey,” Zoey said. “You okay? You look shell-shocked.”
“Job offer,” Jess managed. “San Francisco. A real studio job with salary and benefits and everything.”
“Congratulations.” Zoey's tone was careful. “That's what you want?”
“It's what I thought I wanted.” Jess rubbed her face. “Three months ago, I would've said yes immediately. But now...”
“But now you've built something here.”
“Have I?” Jess heard the desperation in her own voice. “Or have I just been playing house in someone else's barn, pretending I have a real career when it's all just temporary?”
“Wait a sec.” Zoey scurried around the hood and climbed into the passenger seat.
Jess blinked. It would still take a while to get used to small town living.
“Okay,” Zoey said. “Real talk. What's holding you here? And I want the truth, not what you think sounds reasonable.”
Tears pricked Jess’s eyes, and she wiped at them angrily. “My grandparents—”
“No. What do you want? Not what they need, not what's responsible. What does Jessica Hartley want?”
Jess stared at her hands. “I want to make my own art. Not someone else's designs. I want to build something that's mine.”
“Can you do that in San Francisco?”
