One-Off (35 page)

“It’s an incredible opportunity.”

She nodded and we stayed quiet for a while. “It’s something to think about, right?”

“I’d say,” I agreed. “Not that I want you to leave.”

“That’s the thing,” She gave me a tentative look. “They said we could bring our own EP.”

My eyes flipped up to meet hers. “That’s a generous offer.” Not unprecedented, but it meant they thought Dallas and Colin were stars and worthy of show control.

“We want you.”

My heart went from dreadful thumping to rapid beating. A demotion back to what I used to do. Then again, it was back to what I loved doing.

“I know it’s a step back for you career wise.” She hesitated, her eyes searching my face. “I’m not so caught up in my own life and wedding and marriage to see that you’ve been pretty miserable doing this job.”

I started to protest but knew it wouldn’t fool her. “I wouldn’t say miserable.”

“But you don’t love it. You used to come alive on set, juggling all the pieces, pulling everything together. I’ve never seen anyone enjoy what they were doing more.”

She was right about that. It was a rush getting the show put to bed every week. “I should have taken the hint from Van. He must have passed up this job six times.”

“Nobody knows what a job’s really like until they take it.”

“That’s for sure.” I thought about how much I was getting paid to do this job. It was more than my first three years combined as an EP. But as I’d learned after paying off my student loans and getting the down payment for my house, money wasn’t everything. I had what I needed now. Security, sizeable savings, and an appreciation for work that I could love. Being EP again would get that work-love thing back.

“Think about it,” she encouraged. “We didn’t want to load this on you when you’ve been in kind of a funk lately. I know they’re screwing with your time off, but is that it? I haven’t been a very good BFF lately.”

“You’re fine,” I assured her.

“Seems like ever since Ainsley left, your light is gone.”

“My light?”

“Yeah, you know, your spark, glow, enthusiasm. You guys really seemed to get on well together. She made planning the wedding, which I knew you wouldn’t like, bearable. It could just be the bosses screwing with your vacation, which you desperately need by the way. But is it something more?”

I shook my head automatically. The serious look on Dallas’s face made me falter. “I miss her.”

She nodded, a smile inching across her lips. “Miss her or love her?”

“Stop it,” I denied out of self-preservation. I hadn’t allowed myself to consider the question.

“I found those pics you tried to hide.”

My stomach fluttered. I transferred those photos of Ainsley and me to the discard group after copying them to my laptop and keeping one on my phone for quick reference, of course. Dallas should have clicked through the bunch in seconds and decided to delete them as we’d recommended.

“Pics?” I played innocent.

“The ones where you both looked like you were about to have sex on film.”

“Shut. Up.” I laughed off her suggestion.

“Pictures don’t lie, my friend.” She grasped my hand. “Honestly, Skye, you became friends, right? We didn’t imagine that.”

“We did.”

“What happened after we left that night?”

I shook my head, not wanting to rehash the real reason for my melancholy. If I pushed it away, it would have to end at some point. I couldn’t stay this depressed for the rest of my life.

“You got together, right? It’s why you didn’t come to the airport the next day and she pretended not to be disappointed by that.” Dallas waited for me to comment, but all I could do was stare hopelessly at her. “Wow, you really did, didn’t you? I’d say that’s great, but she’s in Scotland and you’re here. From what Colin says, she’s not any happier about it than you are.”

“Nothing can be done about it.”

“Nothing? Did you ask her to stay?”

“Colin did and she wouldn’t,” I reminded her of the conversation he’d had with her the night before she left. “I told her I didn’t want her to leave.”

“That’s a start, but did you ask her to stay?”

Did I? I told her I didn’t want her to leave. Or asked her if she had to leave. Was that different from asking her to stay? “I, I…It was implied.”

“How can you be this clueless?” She threw her hands up. “Women need to be asked. You should know this; you’re a woman.”

“I didn’t want to be responsible for her decision. She could regret it and resent me for it.”

“So instead you let her get on a plane and fly across the ocean to a place where a long distance relationship is pretty much impossible to maintain and you stay here moping about because you’re finally in love for the first time and you didn’t beg her to stay.” She shook her head and reached out to squeeze my chin. “Super smart plan, genius.”

“Why did I even try talking to you about this?” I snarked back.

“Because I’m great at game plans when it comes to relationships. Look how I managed to marry the guy of my dreams in a month and manipulate you and the woman of your dreams into getting together.”

That made me laugh. “Do not try to take credit for that.”

“Oh, but I will. It didn’t take a genius of your caliber to see that the way you and Ainsley interacted with each other was more than just irritation. It was masking something deeper.”

“Get over yourself.”

“Anyway,” she dragged out. “Had you asked her to stay, she might have looked into that Georgetown offer because she had more than just her cousin motivating her.”

“I doubt it. It’s not like we professed our undying love to each other.”

She grinned. “But you wanted to. You forget I can read you. I’ve only seen you in one serious relationship and you didn’t look, sound, or act anything like you are now. That desolation you feel, that’s love, baby cakes.”

Desolation, desperation, agony, I’d experienced all three. If this was love, I shouldn’t want it. “Still, what’s the end game? You know how I feel about marriage.”

“Gah!” she exhaled her frustration. “You say that, but you spent a month planning my wedding, every detail. You worked hard to make it go beautifully. Then when I said I wasn’t sure I could stay married, you didn’t drive me to a divorce attorney. You made sure we went to counseling and talked me through it. You believe in love, and you believe in sharing your life with someone.”

“That’s not the same thing. I believe in it for you.”

“And you. When you’re really in love, not just in a comfortable relationship, you can’t imagine being without that person.” She tipped my chin up again. “And even if you were right about marriage. That they don’t last. Even if you only made it five years or ten, wouldn’t it be the best five or ten years of your life?”

My friend had a point. It wasn’t like I stayed away from relationships in the past when I knew I’d never get married. I did it for the enjoyment, the companionship, the togetherness. What I’d shared with Ainsley, before and during our night together, was more than all of that. Five years with her would change my life. Ten would transform everything about me. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend it.

“You’ve got a lot to think about, bestie. Become our EP again, move to New York, and convince the love of your life that she needs to take one of the openings she’s been offered over here.” Her hand flicked in the general direction of New York out the window. “Hell, Colin says she loved living in New York. Columbia would snap her up in a second. If you give her a reason to move here, she’d love it even more.”

Dallas was just starting to get on a roll. This was how she went about every story. Get the subject talking, make them admit to one thing, and she’d run with it until every last detail was had.

“Stop working your angles, chica. I’ll think about it. That’s the best I can do.” I would think about it. Get the job of my dreams and the woman I’d never thought to dream about together in New York with my best friend and her husband. It was definitely something to think about.

She smiled wide, and for the first time in weeks, I joined her.

Forty-Seven

Rain splashed against the windshield as I maneuvered my way through the unfamiliar streets. It had gone from a heavy pour to a drizzle back to rain and now it seemed to be slowing down again. It was the first week of fall, and I finally had my time off. I wouldn’t care if it rained the whole time. I was just happy not to be in a meeting about budgets.

Dallas and Colin had surprised me with an airline ticket as a thank you gift for planning their wedding. The flight had been long, but I’d managed to sleep for some of it. I felt surprisingly alert and ready to start my adventure.

The car slotted easily into a parking space on the street. Locals and tourists alike were navigating the narrow roads on foot, scooters, bikes, and more of the tiny cars I’d rented at the airport. I consulted the map for the twentieth time. Directions weren’t my thing and the tiny car didn’t have navigation. Even with street names, I wasn’t sure I could find the right place.

“Excuse me.” I stopped a couple who looked more like locals than tourists. “I’m trying to find this building on Teviot Place.” I pointed to the one on the map.

“American?” This question came any time I opened my mouth when I was out of the country. Sometimes the question was accusatory. Other times like now it was fascination.

“Yes.” I didn’t say any more. Over the years, I’d heard other Americans make obnoxious comments when asked this question. “Proud to be.” Or “Don’t blame me, I voted for the other guy.” Or my least favorite, “Yep, but don’t hold it against me.” I gave people the credit they deserved to know that I wasn’t responsible for my country’s foreign policy no matter who was in office.

“Are you on holiday?” the woman asked while the man pointed at the pub they’d just left and said, “Make sure to try the local while you’re here.” Both spoke rapidly and with thicker accents than I was used to.

“I am, and I will, thank you,” I responded to both.

The man looked over the map I had and checked where we were. He gave me detailed directions that his wife translated into more recognizable information, using points of reference rather than the distance measures her husband was using. I thanked them both, checked where I was parked versus where I needed to go and decided that I’d leave the car and walk the rest of the way.

Eight blocks later, some actually paved with cobblestones, I asked another woman if I was headed in the right direction. She pointed me down the street to our right. Nerves flared as I took a step toward my destination. I was always nervous the first day of any vacation in a different country. It would take some time to get my feet under me.

The grandiose Italian Renaissance building stood out once I turned onto the right street. It took up an entire block, with arched windows and entrances and a Juliet balcony on the third story. I walked past the first entrance, needing the second or I’d find myself lost in another department.

My eyes flicked to my watch. I’d be just in time. A placard in the lobby pointed me toward the hallway to the left. I made my way down the hall, passing doors with numbers on them. I checked my sheet again and found the door I needed. I pushed out a nervous breath and opened the door.

Her voice hit me first. That accent that I hated because I loved it so much, I didn’t have to hate anymore. I could just love it. I’d heard similar out on the street, but not with her inflections and tone and, well, attached to her.

Ainsley stood at the front of the classroom, gesturing back to the screen. Her hair was pinned back, hiding its mass and magnificence. Different glasses were perched on her nose. The only makeup she wore highlighted the blue of her eyes. Her clothes weren’t any of the ones she’d brought with her to the States. A pencil skirt, a cashmere V-neck clingy sweater, and another pair of those sexy-ass boots. Scrumptious, everything about her.

I practically fell into the nearest seat at the back. The lights were dim up here in the sixth tiered row of the lecture theatre. About seventy students filled most of the seats. The girl next to me was typing madly on the laptop she had open.

When Ainsley turned to face the class again, I wanted to stand up and shout, draw attention to myself, tell her how much I’d missed her, how amazing she looked, how I couldn’t get her out of my mind, that I was crazy for her. But that could wait. I’d waited five weeks already to see her. The last ten minutes of class wouldn’t kill me.

It seemed to take forever, but she gave her final comments and the class began to disperse. It was her last of the day. I’d taken a flight specifically to get me here in time. If I’d gotten lost one more time, I probably wouldn’t have. I had to wait another ten minutes before everyone had left her alone to pack up. She hadn’t seemed to notice that there was still someone seated at the back.

“Professor Baird,” I said from my seat. Ainsley’s face came up from packing her laptop away. She raised a hand up to shield her eyes from the spotlights that were still pointing to the ground level where she stood. “I came a long way to see the foremost authority on Scottish history.”

“Skye?” It was a question because she couldn’t see too far up into the auditorium, and she probably couldn’t believe I was here.

I stood and headed down the stairs as she went to the podium to turn off the spotlights. “Surprise.”

“Skye!” she exclaimed, emotion clouding her voice. She flew at me as soon as I got to the ground level and wrapped her arms around me.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might pass out from elation. My worry had taken on many forms over the long flight. Where I’d been sure of her feelings before, getting here, hiring a car, driving all those kilometers on the wrong side of the road, and trying to find my way through Edinburgh to the university that was part of the ancient city, I’d had lots of time to doubt my certainty. She could have gone back to our long ingrained antagonistic repartee. She could have been cold and distant because I’d followed her instructions and not seen her off at the airport. She could have been casual as she’d been in the three additional phone calls we’d shared since she left. Or she could have been completely over me, having had one night with me and thinking it was enough. She was none of those things, and my heart felt like it was going to explode.