Not A Chance (Heartstrings #2)

2. Indie

TORONTO

It wasn’t enough to send me across the country. They’d put an international border between us. Not to mention sending me more than 2,600 miles from the home that I’d made for myself in Amado, CA.

I stepped out of Union Station with my too-heavy bags and into the muggy late-September day.

Beads of sweat dotted my forehead with the change in humidity from inside the city’s main transit hub. I wondered where this so-called Canadian “fall” weather had escaped to.

I’d been here only once before as a child, not that I remembered anything of the city other than the smell of the sewers outside the subway. My nose wrinkled as I became aware of the scents surrounding me.

Yep, that still smelled the same.

My parents had come to see the premiere of a movie at the Toronto International Film Festival. I couldn’t recall the name of the famous actor they were wooing to work with one of their firms at the time. I’d spent the few days we were here in a suite in the Royal York with a nanny, reading at the windowsill, watching groups of people as they smiled and laughed on their way to the Rogers Centre for some sort of sports event.

I hadn’t even gotten to see the CN Tower while it was the tallest building in the world. I supposed I would have a whole year to see it now.

Pulling up Maps, I tried to orient myself as to the direction of my hotel. My father had pulled some strings to get me a furnished apartment in one of the buildings Layne Holdings owned in the Financial District, but it wouldn’t be ready for a few more days.

I wished I knew someone who could check it for listening devices. I wouldn’t put it past my father to stoop to a new low and bug my apartment so that he could have someone listen to my comings and goings at all times. He was ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted.

Though that idea made me shiver despite the heat, I chastised myself for considering it.

The reality was Father’s concern went as far as my effect on the family’s reputation and had nothing to do with me personally.

I rubbed my sternum at the thought. The keening pain of being unlovable had long dulled to a ghost-limb-type ache after resigning myself to the truth that I was a simple pawn, not a daughter, for my parents to move around at their will.

Since I had a relocation budget, I’d splurged on a hotel within walking distance of the south end of Bay St. I hadn’t thought about walking distance dragging two large suitcases along uneven sidewalks, however. Contemplating a cab while sweat dampened the back of my shirt didn’t seem like something worth bothering with at this moment. I wanted out of this unexpected heat and into a shower as soon as possible.

After pulling my hair into a hasty ponytail that would normally have me cringing, I headed eastward, still fueled by frustration at how I’d ended up here.

The twelve-minute walk gave me time to ruminate on all my decisions leading up to this point. I grimaced at the thought of leaving Abbie and Emery behind after so many years in each other’s pockets. I’d waited a week before telling them I had to leave for this new job. I’d spent seven days thinking over every option and ultimately discarded any idea of trying to work out a compromise with my parents, knowing from experience they wouldn’t budge.

A glance at the lock screen on my phone had a selfie of the three of us squished together around the table at our final girls’ night before I left Amado.

We were sitting in a café after work. Emery had come from the university after her office hours to meet us around the corner from Appeal, where Abbie and I worked together.

Since it was Emery’s turn to pick our Friday night meeting spot, the coffees we had in front of us were ultra-fair-trade-eco-conscious masterpieces made with magic beans picked by woodland sprites and brewed with the freely shed tears of angels. I hoped the sprites were enjoying their $8.50 coffee profits.

Looking across the table at my two friends, I noted the marked difference in their mood. Abbie, the perpetual worrier of the group, looked as if she needed to be tethered to the table leg so she wouldn’t float away on a cloud of happiness.

Emery was usually extra chipper on days where she got to choose our girls’ night restaurant, but tonight, her whole vibe was dimmed, like she was weighed down by something. Her outlook was naturally a glass- half-full kind of deal. Worry fizzed in my chest at what kind of thing would have her looking so worn and tired.

Concerned, and not ready to jump into my own bad news, I wanted to know what was up with her first.

“Babe, we’re in your happy caffeine place. Did something happen in one of your classes today?”

Emery, who had been spinning her ceramic coffee cup in circles, looked up at me. I couldn’t blame Abbie for blinking a few times as if she was looking at Emery for the first time since sitting down. Being so loved up seemed to be heady stuff.

“No. They’re fine, I guess,” she sighed. “It’s just not what I thought it would be, but whatever.” She waved away her troubles, refocusing on me.

Emery was determined to honor her mother, who had passed away when we were twelve. She wasn’t letting anything get in the way of becoming Prof. Yao, even her own happiness, it seemed.

My heart hurt with the realization that I couldn’t even try to fix her mood for her because I wasn’t going to be around for this semester or the next, even. Not only that, but here I was about to pile more bad news on her shoulders, unavoidably breaking apart the only family I had ever known.

Taking a deep breath, I just wanted to get this over with now.

“My parents are making me quit Appeal. I gave my notice last week. I'm being banished to Toronto to work for a company of my father's choice.”

I’d shocked them into silence. Twin expressions of disbelief looked back at me. Abbie opened and closed her mouth a few times. Emery found her voice first.

“Wha… how… Can he do that?”

Sighing, I tried to think about how to explain it to them. I’d never disclosed the amount of money that my grandmother had left me in her will. I knew they assumed it was a lot because my family owned more companies than I could keep track of.

“Yeah, he’d probably pay off some judge to declare me legally incompetent or something and take my inheritance. I couldn’t afford to fight him in court. You know I have plans for that money. I’m so, so close.”

Abbie looked at me sadly.

“I know you wanted to do community outreach with it. But do you really need to give up your life here for it? There’s lots of other ways to help kids,” Abbie suggested gently.

“How much money are we talking here, girl? I know it’s rude to ask, but it must be a lot more than you’ve let on all these years.” Emery flushed with embarrassment at asking, but we’d always stuck together all these years.

Separating like this was a big deal.

“Ten million. It’ll take every cent to get the nonprofit up and running before donations even become part of the equation.” My volume was just above a whisper.

This time, it was twin expressions of shock looking back at me. If the wind changed, they’d be frozen like that.

“Well, damn, I’ll move to Toronto for you,” Emery breathed. “Two birds with one stone. You get your money, and I’ll get to avoid my undergraduates. Think they need an artist and wannabe academic with no business skills?”

“I wish they did, babe.” Her enthusiasm had me smiling for the first time since my father made his demands known.

Arriving at the hotel, sweaty and tired, I waited in the line at reception, looking forward to the best shower of my life to wash away this day.

My phone vibrated with a notification, bringing a smile to my face. It was just like Abbie or Emery to check on me, but when I scanned the screen, my stomach clenched.

Father

You have one chance, Indigo. Proving that you can make yourself an asset in the Tempests organization will help convince me you are ready for the financial responsibility of your inheritance.

As much as I wanted to ignore him, I knew choosing pettiness now would only push me further away from my objectives.

Indie

Yes, Father. Thank you for this opportunity.

Even if I gagged a little as I typed, I hoped he took my words at face value.

I needed a distraction from my father’s pleasant reminder that he controlled my life. I texted the girls to let them know I’d arrived safely.

Indie

Made it to the Great White North. (maple leaf emoji)

Abbie

Is it snowing?!! (snowman emoji)

Emery

Glad you got there safe, eh!

They both contained a vast reservoir of ridiculousness. For all the disgruntled masks I might wear sometimes with them, I secretly adored it.

Indie

I can’t tell if you are being serious about the snow, it’s been a couple years since college and none of us studied geography, but do you think I’m in Antarctica?

And don’t even get me started on the “eh.” I will not succumb. You are the one with dual citizenship.

Abbie

Okay, okay. No snow yet. You still have time to buy a proper winter coat. Do you remember our pre-graduation trip to Vancouver and Whistler in January? So naive.

I did remember. We were idiots thinking that we could get away with our version of a northern California winter wear with an extra hoodie underneath. After all, we’d decided we “wouldn’t be outside the chalet that much” while in Whistler. I could still remember my eyelashes freezing my top and bottom eyelids together.

Emery

Ha! We’ll see. You’ll be oot and aboot too much to avoid picking up the slang.

Abbie

Ooooh. What about moose and polar bears! Seen any of those yet? Or Mounties?

Indie

I can’t with you two. I hope you can feel me rolling my eyes all the way back in Amado. Now I know you’re joking because you’re just typing every Canadian stereotype you can think of. Where have we ever seen a bear in BC other than the one behind a fence on Grouse Mountain?

It’s the biggest city in Canada. Think Vancouver with no mountain view and endless condo buildings along the lakeshore. Though the lake itself looked cool from the plane window.

Abbie

Don’t pretend that you didn’t just look that up on Wikipedia on the plane.

Abbie was correct. I had done that exact thing, not wanting to land with zero information about my temporary home.

Emery

Fine. We will cease and desist. But I expect daily reports. And the phone number of whatever cute Mountie you might happen to meet. With two passports, I have options, you know. I will relocate for love. (dreamy love.gif)

Indie

Gross. No, just no. I’m turning off my phone now, ladies. You’ll need to find some other poor soul to torment. xo

Abbie

(heart emoji)

Emery

Good luck on your first day, eh?