Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
SOPHIE
The party is in full swing by ten that evening.
The music is pumping and the weather has improved enough for the party to spill out onto the patio.
Liam has been cornered by an old family friend who I gather from their conversation is also an investor, so I leave them to talk shop and head for the bathroom.
They actually have separate ladies’ and men’s’ bathrooms, with two stalls and two sinks.
I guess they host a lot and it made sense.
I’m reapplying my lipstick when my phone vibrates in my purse and I pull it out, seeing my dad’s name on the screen.
“Hey Dad,” I say, putting the lid back onto the lipstick and sliding it into my purse. “You okay?”
“I just wanted to let you know I’m fine,” he says. “Despite the storm.”
My stomach drops. “Did something happen?”
“The roof tiles slipped. One of them shattered at my feet as I was trying to stop the trash cans from rolling down the hill.”
I grimace. “It hit Charleston bad, huh?”
“For a while. Imagine my surprise when it started.” Uhoh he sounds annoyed. “If only I had a daughter who could have warned me.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Did I not tell you last night?” I run my mind back over our conversation. Surely I would have told him to secure everything.
“Nope. Not a word.”
Oops. I think I was pretty distracted by the thought of seeing Liam.
“But you saw the weather forecast, right?”
“No. Just knew it was storming when it hit.”
I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new trashcan.” He’s usually the first person I call when there’s a weather event coming. I feel terrible.
“It’s fine. I just wanted to check on you. Did you get there safely? Did you avoid the rain?”
“Yes and yes.” The bathroom door opens and Ariel walks in. She notices I’m on the phone and gives me a nod. I step into the hallway to give her privacy because nobody wants an audience when they have to go.
“And there’s no more rain due tomorrow?” he asks.
“No.” I can say that for certain. “It’s going to be a beautiful day. No rain, just sunshine. Almost too hot again probably.”
“Well you drive safely when you head home. And call me, I want to hear all the details about the party.”
“I will, Dad. Sorry again. I’ve been a bit distracted.”
He gives a little chuckle. “I know. I love you, honey.”
“I love you, too.” I hang up and for some reason decide to check my messages. And when I do it’s like I’ve been hit in the chest by a ten ton truck.
There are five texts from Michael. Each one more irate than the last. All basically saying the same thing.
Sophie, can you please answer my damn calls? Your report was never submitted. We’ve missed the deadline. THIS IS BIG SHIT!!! – Michael.
What? That’s not true. I remember sending it on Friday. It doesn’t stop my hands from shaking as I pull up Michael’s number and hit the call button.
As soon as he answers he lets out a huff. “Finally.”
“Michael? The report, I sent it.” My throat feels tight. “I remember sending it. I hit the button.”
“No, you didn’t. They called me about five hours ago and said they were surprised we didn’t put in a bid. I told them we had but they have no emails from you at all.”
My heart starts slamming against my chest. “I have a send receipt. Let me find it. The email should be in my sent folder.”
He sighs again. “Call me back when you do. I’m going to have to tell Donald about this. I fucking promised him we would do this, Sophie. I gave him my word.”
“Okay,” I say quickly. “I will.”
I hang up and open my email app, but it doesn’t load properly. I only have a single bar of signal on my 4G. I hadn’t bothered asking for the internet password when we arrived since I wasn’t planning on needing the internet much while here.
A couple push past me, laughing and drinking champagne. I step back but my back hits the wall. Then the band gets louder and I can’t think properly. I keep hitting refresh but nothing happens.
Ariel walks out of the bathroom and spots me jabbing at my phone.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
I blink. “It’s fine. Just a work thing.” I’m too anxious to actually talk about this.
I just want to prove I sent the damn thing.
“I might just go back to the cabin.” My laptop is there, and I know Eli has his own WIFI code on the wall.
It’ll be quicker to log on there and pull my email account up on the laptop.
“Want me to come with you?” she asks, still looking concerned. “Or get Liam?”
“No, it’s okay.” He doesn’t need to know about this. I don’t want to spoil his mom’s party.
“Okay,” she says, still looking at me. “I hope you manage to sort it out.”
I nod and turn on my heel, making my way out of the front door so nobody sees me.
It’s rude to leave mid-party, but hopefully nobody will notice if I do this quickly then head back.
My mind is full of anxious thoughts as I almost run down the lit path toward the cabins, having to hold my dress up with one hand as I clasp my purse with the other.
The lights outside Eli’s cabin are on so I can easily see as I hurry up the steps and slide my key into the lock.
Throwing my purse onto the table next to the door, I head for my room and grab my laptop.
It takes longer than it should to key in the WIFI code, mostly because my hands are shaking. Finally, it connects and I use my finger on the mouse pad to open up my work email app, and slowly it loads in front of me.
The first thing I do is click on the sent emails. There are a few there from Friday so I have to scroll down but then I see it. My email.
And then I see what’s wrong. The email address. I put in the wrong email address. Instead of sending it to NTV – our parent network – I sent it to our rivals, BTV.
No. Please tell me I didn’t press B instead of N. I feel sick as I realize how close together they are on my laptop keyboard and how harassed I was the day I sent the submission
Gritting my teeth, I open it up and read the email address again and my sanity starts to waver as I see BTV.tv in the ‘to’ box. I’m toast. Not only did I send it to the wrong email address but I sent it to a competitor.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why didn’t I check it? I’m close to hyperventilating when my phone starts to ring again.
“Michael,” I say, my hands shaking as I accept the call.
“Did you find it?”
“Yes.” I take a deep breath. “I sent it to the wrong address.”
“For fuck’s sake!” he thunders. “Why the hell didn’t you check?”
“I don’t know…” My voice wavers.
“Why didn’t you call to make sure it arrived?”
I was so sure it had gone off properly. I remember feeling a sense of relief and maybe even victory. And if I’m being honest, I was distracted. By meeting my dad. By coming here this weekend.
By Liam.
“I don’t know what I was thinking.” I’m hyperventilating now. I never do this. I always double check everything. “I, um, need to tell you something else.”
There’s silence for a moment. Then he finally speaks. “What is it?” he says, his voice low.
“I sent it to BTV.”
“What?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, mortified by my own incompetence. “I know. I’m an idiot. I thought I typed the right address.” They’re our competitors. They shouldn’t even know that the Network is planning to reorganize its weather offering. “It might not even get to them, right?” I say, hoping I’m right.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I need to think. You’re in deep shit, Sophie.” He sounds almost jubilant about that fact. “I need to call our legal team. That submission was confidential. It had all the plans for the hubs.”
“I know,” I say, trying to keep it together. “I should be the one to talk to legal.”
“Yes, but you’re not here, are you?” It’s almost a taunt.
“No.”
“And it can’t wait, Sophie. Not when there’s intellectual property involved. We need to talk to Donald and legal and then call New York.”
“Can it wait until Monday?” I ask vainly.
“What, so you can finish partying before we sort out the mess you made?” He gives a laugh that has no mirth behind it. “No, it can’t. I need to talk to people now. Just go and… do whatever. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again because I have no idea what else to do. I’m going to throw up, I think.
“Be in first thing on Monday. Donald will want to see you.”
I know he will. He’ll want me to explain. And I don’t know if I can.
I just wish I had a time machine.
Michael doesn’t bother saying goodbye. I say his name but there’s no response and that’s when I know there’s a dead connection. I stare at the black screen. I’ve messed up so badly and there’s nothing I can do.
That’s when I run to the bathroom to vomit up my dinner.
“Sophie?”
I hear Ariel’s voice from where I’m still leaning over the toilet in the bathroom. Slowly I pull myself up from the floor and turn on the faucet, rinsing my mouth out as much as I can.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been in here. It feels like a lifetime. I keep going through things in my mind. How could I have been so stupid?
“Are you in here?” Ariel calls out, banging on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”
She’s not going to go away, I can tell that from the tone of her voice. I take a look at my smudged make up and red eyes and think at least it isn’t Liam or Ava.
I can’t face either of them. I definitely can’t tell them about this. I’m too ashamed about my own incompetence.
When I open the door Ariel stumbles, as though she’s had her ear to the door. “Oh God, you look terrible. Let me get Liam,” she says.
I shake my head and grab her arm. “No, please don’t.”
“Are you ill?”
“No. I just…” I exhale heavily. “It’s that work thing I told you about. I need to do something about it.”
Relief softens her expression. “Oh, Thank God. I thought it might be something terrible. Let me get you some water.” She walks over to the tiny kitchen area and grabs a glass out of the cupboard, filling it with water from the refrigerator. “Here,” she says, handing it to me. “Drink.”
So I do, and though it’s refreshing it doesn’t make me feel any better. I’m going to get fired. I know I am. And everybody will know why.
“Okay?” Ariel asks softly when I stop drinking.
I nod, but I’m far from okay.
“Please let me get Liam. He’d want to be here.”
I shake my head. “It’s his mom’s birthday. He should be with her.” I’m so embarrassed. He’s a smart businessman. He doesn’t make mistakes like this. He’ll think I’m an amateur.
I just can’t deal with seeing his face when I tell him.
She pulls her lip between her teeth and she looks so awkward I feel sorry for her.
“You can go back to the party,” I tell her.
“I’ll just stay here for a while. But I’d be really grateful if you don’t tell anybody.
” Eventually Liam will realize that I’ve disappeared.
But by then maybe I’ll have worked out how to face him.
“He adores you,” she says, as though she knows I’m thinking about him. “Which is wonderful. We never thought he’d be like this again.”
“Again?” I frown. That’s a weird way of putting it.
“After Marie,” she says, nodding as though I should know what she’s talking about. “He changed so much after her. But now he’s back to the Liam we all remember.”
“Marie?” I try to say it casually, like I know what she’s talking about. “His…” I trail off, trying to think. “His girlfriend?”
“Yes,” she says. “Or his fiancée, I guess. They were engaged, right?”
“Right.” My hands start to shake. “When was that again?”
“Through college.” She gives me a strange look. “He did tell you about her, didn’t he?”
“I think so. Yes, Marie.” I nod. “I can’t remember who ended the engagement though.”
Her mouth drops open and I know she knows I’m lying. I’m still terrible at it. I shouldn’t have started this whole conversation.
“Neither of them broke it off,” she almost whispers. “Marie died. Twenty years ago. And he’s never been the same since.”