Chapter 31
NIKKI
Saying goodbye to Marek is hard, but also not hard because I know I’m going to see him again. It’ll be as fast as I can take care of everything I need to here and move myself to New York.
The first thing to do is tell my team.
Given that they have no idea I’ve been involved with a man, they’re going to be a little surprised. But I’m sure they’ll be happy for me. It’ll mean some adjustments, but we’ll make it work.
I start with a phone call to Blake.
He listens silently as I tell him about Marek and moving to New York permanently. When I wind down, he stays silent for a beat, then quietly says, “Are you out of your mind?”
My chin jerks down. “Excuse me?”
“We’re all here in L.A.,” he says. “You being in New York all the time would totally complicate things.”
I’m taken aback at his response. “We can figure it out. I’ll come to L.A. when I have to.”
“Does Harper know about this?”
“Not yet. I’m calling her next.”
“We should all meet. Fuck. My schedule is crazy this week.” I hear him clicking on his keyboard. “I’ll get Jada to schedule us. We might have to move some things around.”
“Okay. Sure.” A meeting is fine. We can all discuss how this will work.
I set a hand to my abdomen when the call ends, a hard pulse in the pit of my stomach. I don’t like how that went and I have an uneasy feeling that the meeting isn’t going to be better.
In the meantime, there’s a lot to do. I sit down at my computer to make a spreadsheet. So many things to think about. I won’t sell this place; I’ll need somewhere to stay when I come back. I do love my little house. I look around it a bit wistfully. But I love New York, too, and… Marek’s there.
I think about the things we’ll have to adjust so I’m prepared for the meeting, making some notes and checking things online.
Some of the adjustments are going to be big. Not so much for me, but for my band and my dancers. What if… I have to find new musicians? My career was on an upward trajectory before the concert catastrophe, but I’m not a big name by any means.
I start to feel overwhelmed, so I change into shorts and a tank and my running shoes and go out for a run through the neighborhood.
I’ve gotten back to running and working out since I’ve been back in California, which was hard but also made me feel so much better.
I jog past houses and reddish dirt hills stippled with chaparral, some covered with erosion control blankets to keep the earth from washing away when it rains, past spiky yuccas and bright bougainvillea growing over walls.
The inclines here are a killer and I’m soon sweating in the sunshine as I run along the wooded canyon behind my place overlooking the hills below and above me.
I let my thoughts go while I run, focusing on my breathing and my steps, and when I make a loop and get back to my house, I feel calmer. I shower, change, then go pick up a pizza from my favorite place down on Sunset Boulevard. Then I’m ready to watch Marek’s game.
Yes, I’ve been watching all his games since I left.
There are less than two weeks until the playoffs start, and the Storm have clinched a playoff spot.
So have the Charleston Cyclones, their arch-enemy team.
So tonight’s game against Chicago doesn’t mean much, but the Storm and the Cyclones are currently battling in the standings, competing for home ice advantage. So the win is still important.
I can’t help but smile as I stretch out on the couch in front of the TV.
This time watching Marek isn’t so bittersweet.
I love watching him play but knowing that we had something so incredibly special and I fucked it up made it painful.
But tonight, I know he’s forgiven me and also he’s done some soul searching and learned some things about himself, and my optimism has returned.
I’m going to figure this all out with Blake and everyone, and Marek and I are going to be together.
* * *
Somehow Jada manages to get us all together the next evening at five at Blake’s office on Wilshire Boulevard. And while Harper is sympathetic, albeit surprised, about my decision, she takes Blake’s side about me living in New York. As do Bruno, Todd, and Anderson.
We talk about choreography and dance rehearsals.
I know I’ll have to find somewhere in New York, but that’s not hard.
I already have a recording studio I’ve used in the past. We talk about promotional events, tour preparation, and meetings to plan new albums, discuss marketing strategies, and organize future performances. The studio execs are in L.A.
“That’s not an issue in this day and age,” I say. “We can meet virtually so easily. We’ve done it before.”
We talk about collaborations because Antwon, a popular rap artist and friend, has been trying to work on a project with me for months.
“I can meet virtually with him, too, if I have to,” I say.
“Or we can meet when he’s in New York. Or when I’m in L.A.
It’s not like I’ll never be here.” I’m getting frustrated but trying to stay calm.
Anderson finally nods and says, “You’ve obviously thought this through.”
“I have.” I lift my chin. At least he sees that.
I look at the others. I hate the looks on their faces—disappointment. Bewilderment. Displeasure.
I’m letting them down. Again.
A burning feeling of pressure expands inside me. My jaw aches from clenching and every muscle in my body is tight. I feel like crying, but holy shit, I can’t do that.
I draw air into my lungs and let it out. “I need to use the ladies’ room,” I say with a set smile. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
I hike out of the meeting room and down the hall, passing offices and assistants who give me big smiles. In the ladies’ room, I shut the door of a stall and sit on the toilet. I blow out a long exhalation.
Okay. This is bad.
I lower my head into my hands, elbows on my knees. My heart is thudding so hard I feel it in my wrists. My throat. I swallow thickly.
Am I making a big mistake? What if they’re all right, and moving to New York will never work? What if I’m trashing my career, just when I’m trying to get it back? Maybe I should rethink this whole plan.
But… Marek.
I try to imagine staying in L.A. and having some kind of long-distance relationship with him.
I would do it, if I had absolutely no other choice.
But it’s not what I want. It’s not what he wants.
He’s all in for us, and so am I. It was hard enough for the last year, being apart from him, and we barely knew each other.
Now I’ve spent time with him and I know him better and I love him so much, it would wreck me.
Am I being dramatic? There are lots of couples who do that, especially in the music or show business. I could fly to New York often. Huge waste of time, though.
I straighten, tip my head back and stare up at the ceiling. My chest feels like a band is wrapped around it, tightening. I wipe sweaty palms on my jeans.
For a brief second, I wish my parents were here. But then I dismiss that because I know whose side they would be on in this. They’re the ones who told me my lack of discipline would keep me from being a success in music. Is that what this is? Am I making an impulsive, hasty decision?
I don’t deserve to be happy or have good things happen to me.
I swallow a small scream. I can’t believe that thought intruded into my consciousness. Is that where I am again?
No. I won’t accept that.
What have I learned? All those sessions with Eve have taught me so much about myself. I need to think about those things.
Everyone deserves to be happy.
I believe that.
That means I deserve to be happy.
I unroll toilet paper and drag it beneath my eyes.
Yes, I made this decision impulsively. But I’ve thought it through and planned and brainstormed and worked out problems.
It takes courage to be imperfect. Because you will fail. Everyone makes mistakes. And you will disappoint someone. But you can live through that. We all live through that.
Right. Right. Thank you, Eve.
Maybe I am disappointing my team. But I’ll live through it.
Breathe.
Those with low self-esteem are more likely to question whether they “deserve” their good luck. This can lead to feelings of inadequacy and guilt.
I never considered myself to lack self-esteem.
I’m very confident in my musical abilities and proud of how hard I’ve worked.
But it’s true that I had those feelings of inadequacy about my abilities to focus and be disciplined, and about those times when teachers and friends and family derided me because I’m a little offbeat.
Yes, I made the decision to move to New York quickly. But I’ve thought it through, planned, brainstormed, and worked out solutions to problems. And I’m proud of that, too.
Their questioning my decisions made me feel like a kid again, my ideas disregarded. I hate feeling like that.
I’m not featherbrained.
I remember Marek telling me I’m smart. I swallow past a boulder in my throat.
I am smart.
At least Anderson acknowledged that I’ve thought this through. At least he stood up for me.
He’d better or I’ll fire him.
I’ll fire all of them.
Chill, Nikki. Take a breath.
I can’t just spontaneously fire my whole team.
On the other hand… I am the boss here. They work for me.
Hell yeah, I can fire them.
I’m not going to give up the man I love again. I’m not going to give up my own happiness because of a fucked-up belief that I don’t deserve it. Or a belief that I have to be perfect.
I push back my shoulders. I need to get back to the meeting. They probably think I’m having a breakdown.
I can do this. It’s my life. It’s my career. Pulling in a long, fortifying breath, I mentally pull on not only my big girl panties but also my bitch bra and my kick ass boots. I smile down at my Doc Martens, then stand up.
I check out my reflection in the mirror before leaving, giving my hair a fluff and dragging one finger under an eye to remove a smudge of mascara. Then I smile at myself.
I stride back into the meeting room and take my seat. I start to apologize, stop myself, and say instead, “Thanks for your patience.” I smile around the table at them. “So. Where were we? Anderson, you agreed that I’ve thought through this.”
I sense the surprise in the air, with everyone carefully avoiding looking at each other.
“Yeah,” he says. “Everything we brought up, you had a plan for.”
I smile. “Yes.” I look around the table again.
“I’m very serious about this. I’ve learned a lot since the disaster in Berlin.
We only have one life.” I imagine Marek here with me, nodding in approval.
“I survived that, and I felt so guilty about it. I still do,” I admit.
“But I’m working on it. So I have this one life and I want to honor the survivors by living it.
I want to share it with the people I love, the people who love me.
And I love all of you. I love working with you, and you’ve all done so much for my career.
I’m grateful.” I pause and swallow. “I’m moving to New York.
If that doesn’t work for any of you, I’ll be disappointed.
And maybe I’m disappointing you by doing this, but I’ll live through it. ”
I haven’t come right out and threatened to fire them, but I hope they get the message that I’m serious and I’m doing this even if it’s without them.
I catch a flicker of a smile on Harper’s face.
I let the silence fill the room for a moment. They all look thoughtful. Anderson is slowly nodding, though, lips pursed. Blake and Todd are frowning.
“How about you think about it?” I stand. “I know it’s important to think through big decisions. I hope to be in New York next week. I’ll follow up with all of you about if we can continue to work together.”
“No.” Harper shakes her head. “I don’t need to think about it. Of course we’ll continue to work together. We’ll figure it out. This isn’t that unusual.”
“Yeah,” Anderson says. “I agree.”
My heart gives a little kick of joy.
Blake still appears unhappy, but says, “Yeah. Of course I’m still in.”
Then Bruno and Todd also agree.
And I’ve done it.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “I’m really glad.”
Suddenly I feel light and giddy. I practically float out of the building. I can’t wait to tell Marek!
And… my parents. That might not be so fun. But I have a lot I want to say to them.