8. Emma
8
Emma
For the rest of the day, I can’t concentrate on anything. I get my clients’ names mixed up, I use the wrong equipment, I forget a password I use to access my clients’ notes. It’s a disaster. A disaster that does not go unnoticed by Sharon.
“What’s going on?” she asks, about an hour before the day is over. “You’ve been all over the place today.” She looks up at me worriedly from behind the desk. “Have you gotten bad news? Has something happened?”
It takes me a minute to think of what I want to tell her, and then I realize she’s one of my closest friends and might actually be able to help.
“Are you doing anything this evening?” I ask.
She frowns and shrugs. “I have a date with the TV and my cat,” she jokes.
“I need help. Do you think you can come over later?”
Sharon is now frowning in concern, but being the solid friend she is, she nods. “Of course.”
She doesn’t ask why I need her. She doesn’t press to find out my problem. She’s just there for me.
“Thanks, Sharon.”
Things don’t go any better after that, and when the clock hits five, I couldn’t be more relieved that the day is finally over.
“What time do you want me to come over?” Sharon asks as we lock up.
“About seven,” I reply. “I’m calling Debs, too. I’m going to need you both.”
She frowns at me again and then says, “Okay. See you later.”
When Sharon arrives later, Debs is already here, and they give each other a hug. The three of us have a tightly knit friendship, like our own little club where no one else is invited.
“So, come on. Spill,” Debs says. “Why are we here?”
Unlike me and Sharon, Debs thrives on excitement and chaos. She was always the more outgoing when we were kids, usually getting us into all sorts of trouble with our parents. If it was dangerous or not allowed, Debs would want to do it. I suppose you might call her a rebel.
Even now, as she sits here with her black ripped jeans, black vest top, pierced nose, and short spiky hair, her personality hasn’t changed at all. She loves extreme sports, like skydiving, and convinced me and Sharon on one occasion that we should try it, too.
Never again. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. Well, apart from maybe now.
I take a deep breath and then tell them what happened with Ryan this morning. Ordinarily, I don’t talk about my clients, but then, I think I can make an exception under the circumstances. I watch as the more I say, the wider their eyes get, until I think Sharon is going to have a stroke. When I get to the end, they’re both gawking at me.
Not surprisingly, Debs recovers far quicker than Sharon.
“Let me get this straight. Ryan Steele’s career is more or less over unless he marries someone to take the heat off this latest scandal,” Debs says.
I nod. “In a nutshell.”
“And you’re actually considering this?” Sharon cries.
By her expression, it’s obvious she thinks that my even thinking about it is completely nuts.
“This is why you’ve been a wreck today?” she continues. “You got Mrs. Bolton mixed up with Mrs. Crane. You couldn’t get into your files. You forgot your purse when you went out for lunch. You—”
“We get it,” Debs says, throwing Sharon a smirk. “She was a wreck.”
“I was just saying,” Sharon says, taking a sip of her wine.
“Are we here because you need our encouragement or because you want us to talk you out of it?” Debs says, ignoring Sharon’s slightly miffed tone.
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “I mean, it was totally out of left field. He put me on the spot, and I didn’t know what to say. When I heard how bad things were, I did feel awful.”
“That’s because you’re an empath,” Sharon states.
Debs nods. “You are.” She turns to Sharon. “She is.”
“Anyone else would have blankly turned him down,” Sharon adds. “But not you, Emma Carter. Your heart is too big sometimes.”
“I know,” I reply, “but he was clearly devastated. I mean, imagine how you would feel if your career was about to come crashing to the ground through no fault of your own.”
Debs frowned at that. “Oh, I don’t think he’s entirely innocent here, Emma. I’ve followed his career, and he is a bit of a bad boy.”
“But not a racist,” I confirm.
“No,” she concedes. “I know that for a fact.”
“Which is exactly my point,” I say. “He’s being crucified for something that isn’t true.”
“That happens to lots of people, Emma,” Sharon jumps in. “Sometimes life just isn’t fair. I don’t think sacrificing your reputation and career for him is a good idea. I know you feel sorry for him, but this is too much.”
I can’t help but nod along with her. It’s taken me a lot of hard work to get to where I am. From my education, to building the business and my client list, to getting local sponsors involved so I could buy the equipment. And all the while keeping my head down, my nose clean, and putting my clients first.
Can I really say that about Ryan?
Not at all. He’s a grandstander. Anyone can see that. And from the news clips I saw of him when I looked him up, he doesn’t seem to care what he gets caught doing. Something like this was going to happen sooner or later, right?
“He is a great hockey player, though,” Debs says. “Everyone assumes he made it because he had money, but that’s not true.”
“Yes. He said something like that to me.”
“Well, he should know, right?” Debs smirks. “His dad wanted him to follow in his footsteps, join the family business of investment banking, but Ryan wanted a career in sports. So Mr. Steele made sure his son didn’t see a penny. Ryan had to work really hard to get sponsors, and then he was blackballed because of his name. Sure, he’s a household name now, but he had to work just as hard, if not harder, than the other guys to get where he is.”
I wonder if Debs isn’t actually a secret mind reader, given my thoughts only moments before. Her remarks blow my reasoning right out of the water.
“And?” Sharon says. “We’ve all had to work hard to get where we are, but you don’t see any of us asking for handouts. I mean, marriage?” She balks. “It’s not like he’s asking for a loan, or to borrow your car.”
“So, you think even considering this is a ridiculous idea?” I say to Sharon.
“Absolutely,” she says adamantly.
“I don’t,” Debs says, shaking her head.
Both Sharon and I look at her.
Debs shrugs. “Look. It’s like this. You get married, you get the world off his back, you split up. Tell me.” She looks me directly in the eye. “When’s the last time you did anything exciting in your life?”
I can see Sharon’s jaw drop, and not letting me speak, she cries, “This isn’t excitement. This is nuts.”
“To you, maybe,” Debs reasons, not letting Sharon’s astonishment faze her. “But to someone else, this would be a walk in the park.”
“Someone like you, you mean?” Sharon blurts.
Debs smirks and shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe.” She looks at me again. “You haven’t answered me.”
“I haven’t had a chance,” I joke, throwing a glance at Sharon, who giggles a little.
“Alright, maybe I am getting a little carried away,” she says. “It’s only because I care.”
“I know, sweetie, and I’m grateful.”
Debs is still looking at me expectantly, still waiting for me to answer her question.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “How long ago did we all go skydiving?”
“It’s been three years,” Debs says. “And I know you haven’t done anything anywhere near as extreme since.”
“I like my life the way it is,” I counter.
“Then there’s your answer,” she replies. “If this is the life you want, tell Ryan you’re not interested.” She pauses for a beat. “But…”
Sharon makes a deep groaning sound of despair.
“But,” Debs carries on, “are you going to look back on this in ten years and wonder what might have happened? Life is a series of experiences. And I can assure you that you’re not going to get offered an opportunity like this again.”
“I’m not sure I’d call this an opportunity,” Sharon chimes in.
“That’s because you’re a boring spoilsport.” Debs grins.
The three of us laugh, and then Debs continues. “Think about the possibilities,” she says, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. “Think about the places you’ll go and the people you’ll meet.”
“You sound like Dr. Seuss,” Sharon quips.
“Better him than Dr. Spock,” Debs quips back, sending us all into fits of laughter.
When the laughter is over, Debs looks at me again with that same intensity that makes her who she is.
“Think about the adventure. Sometimes, the scariest choices lead to the most rewarding experiences.”
There’s a tension in the room at her words, and even Sharon doesn’t say anything. Maybe she’s feeling the same way I am in that moment and wondering whether a little bit of adventure would be such a terrible thing in my life.
I’ve played it safe. In fact, I’ve always played it safe. What’s the worst that could happen?
You could lose your business.
Surely not. In fact, if anything, wouldn’t this promote my business even more? I already have coaches across the country wanting to snatch me up. This might be an opportunity for me to expand.
Is that what you want?
Honestly, I don’t know. But if I did this, it would be a question that I might actually have the option to consider.
“It’s not for life, right?” I say, my words betraying the way my decision is swinging.
A huge smile beams across Debs’s face. “Nope. It’s also a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“Are you really going to do this?” Sharon cries, her eyes as wide as saucers.
And then I find myself nodding. “I think I am. But now, I need more help.”
Sharon is clearly still gobsmacked, while Debs is on the edge of her chair, eagerly awaiting my next words.
“If I’m going to do this, there need to be some rules.” I look from one to the other. “You’re going to have to help me figure out what.”
The following morning, there’s a buzz of excitement in the office. Debs eventually talked Sharon around last night, and then we spent two whole hours figuring out what boundaries I needed to set. If Ryan can’t agree to them, then there’ll be no wedding. It’s as simple as that.
When he arrives for his appointment, Sharon, under my request, gives no sign whatsoever that she knows what’s going on, and after greeting him, I take him into the treatment room.
“I’ve come to a decision,” I say before we go any further.
I don’t need him tense during his therapy. It does neither of us any good.
“Okay,” he says tentatively. “What did you decide?”