Epilogue
Since I hadn’t stepped foot in the NuVoices offices for almost eight months, I’d expected an aloof welcome on Monday.
Instead, I was treated like the returning prodigal daughter.
I didn’t know Marie had made it known to the entire floor that it was my idea for the company to offer all employees equity, so the standing ovation took me off guard—as did the loud reaction to my transformation.
The same crew that had skeptically watched me thread my way through the cubicles in a stiff white pantsuit on my first day now exclaimed over my hair and clapped me on the back as they checked out my Moncler puffer, oversized Enyce sweater, camo jeans, and Jimmy Choo boots.
I’d finished the look with large gold bamboo earrings that read NIKKI in the center, a nod to the signature jewelry of the platinum-selling female rapper I’d already tapped for Sugar’s next cover.
Greeting my NuVoices colleagues and hugging my Sugar team, I felt back in the flow before I even made it to my office.
But I was also struck by how true the adage was: The more things change, the more they stay the same.
The absence of Barbara’s mercurial energy was evident in everything from the soft R&B that was now playing in the reception area instead of blaring gangsta rap to the lemongrass wall diffusers masking the vague smell of weed that used to permeate the floor.
Yet the overall mood was as boisterous as ever.
Neither the new Matsumoro ownership nor Marie’s additional infrastructure could prevent soccer balls from being kicked around, fashion editors from dragging rolling racks at top speed down the halls, or clusters of writers from gathering at each other’s desks, joking and playing music.
My own office had been preserved like a museum, with every decorative throw pillow still in place.
As much as I’d still loved the makeshift furnishings I’d cobbled together to erase Luna’s presence, I decided that I wanted to redecorate.
My space deserved a fresh start too. I spent the morning with Von, getting settled in and deciding what color to paint the walls next.
Then I took my team to lunch to celebrate our new beginning and to strategize how we were going to crush our goals for the rest of the year.
They needed to know that I was not playing.
At the end of the day, I let everyone leave the office without me so I could sit with my thoughts.
I was supposed to meet Derek for a celebratory dinner, but I was exhausted.
I’d forgotten the stamina it took to be an editor in chief, to be conspicuously in charge, to be always “on.” All I wanted to do was kick back with him at home, and I knew he wouldn’t care because that was our happy place anyway.
I was about to pack up my stuff when I suddenly had a brainstorm for my first editor’s letter as the returning EIC of Sugar. I picked up the Montblanc pen that Ricky Matsumoro had given me as a welcome-back gift and let my thoughts flow onto the page:
The French fashion designer Coco Chanel once said: “A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.” Well, girlfriend, she was right …