Chapter 10
SADIE
“This boss of yours is so sweet. He sounds like the type of guy who would hold open an automatic door for you just to show you the respect he thinks you deserve,” Autumn says through the speakerphone.
I finally broke down and told my best friend about Nash. I need some advice or someone to knock some sense into me, because touring Chicago with Nash yesterday was one of the best times I’ve had in a long time.
But it wasn’t just yesterday. Another week of work passed, full of sparks and butterflies, and it’s not even Nash’s fault. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s the perfect caring boss. Professional and courteous, abiding by every invisible boundary—minus the off-the-record kissing talk—but that was off the record, so I’m not counting it. No, this is a me problem through and through.
I’m a confused mess.
“He is sweet!” I groan at Autumn’s assessment. “Did I tell you he noticed I don’t like lettuce and tomato on my tacos and ordered that stuff on the side when we stopped at a taco stand last night?”
“Wow. Sweet and observant.”
“Not to mention attentive and complimentary. There’s a big difference between him and Stetson.”
“Stetson is a lot of things, but attentive and complimentary are not part of his MO. But that doesn’t mean he’s not a good guy or even the perfect guy for you.”
“I know. I’m so confused about my feelings. I’m in constant turmoil.”
“If Nash wasn’t your boss, would you even hesitate going for him?”
Years full of memories with Stetson flash through my mind. He holds all my firsts, and I thought he’d hold all my lasts too.
“I’d still hesitate.”
“Because of Stetson?”
“There’s just so much history there and an already planned future. It’s safe.”
“But I thought the whole point of going to Chicago was because you were sick of planned-out and safe. You wanted the unexpected.”
“I don’t want planned-out and safe when someone else makes the decisions for me, but if I choose that life, then it’s fine.” I know the logic doesn’t make sense, but it’s how I feel.
“Well, I can go either way here,” Autumn says. “I can talk you into Stetson, or I can talk you into Nash. What are you looking for?” Spoken like a true best friend.
I press my palms on the counter and hang my head. “Stetson. I know I should be with Stetson. In three months, I’ll move home, and Nash will be some boss I once had.”
“Okay, if you want to be all-in on Stetson, you need to stop noticing all the cute things Nash does around the office. He has an unfair advantage over Stetson because he’s the new shiny guy who hasn’t done anything wrong, whereas Stetson threw a tantrum and broke up with you because you wouldn’t stay in Skaneateles.”
I nod, agreeing with everything Autumn says.
“Stop comparing this new exciting man to the old dependable guy that’s been around for years. Stetson is like your favorite pair of jeans. You know, the ones that fit perfectly to the curvature of your butt? The ones you put on and always feel your best in?”
“But lately, I feel my best around Nash.”
“That’s only because you and Stetson have been fighting. Your feelings for him are tainted because you're mad at him.”
“I am mad at Stetson—for the breakup and my parents.”
“The breakup was stupid. Everyone knows it doesn’t mean anything, an empty threat to try and get you to stay. And as far as your parents go, can you really blame Stetson for taking their side with the whole Tate thing? You guys have been together since third grade. Your parents are his second parents. Your family and his family are best friends, and he’s back in Skaneateles, seeing a different perspective than you.”
“I know, but he should be my person no matter what. Is it too much to ask that he’s on my side?”
“You know Stetson. His loyalty is to truth or what he perceives as truth. Maybe it’s the lawyer in him. Even though he loves you, he’ll tell you if you’re wrong. And he definitely thinks you’re wrong by blaming your parents for Tate overdosing.”
“I hate how he does that.” I turn around, leaning against my kitchen sink. “Do you think I’m wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think Tate’s death is my parents’ fault?”
“Whoa!” She laughs nervously. “That’s a loaded question and something I’d rather stay out of.”
“Autumn?” I press.
Her heavy sigh filters through the speaker. “Has your dad always been unreasonably hard on Tate? Yes. Could your dad have afforded to put him in a rehab facility instead of kicking him out on the street? Yes.”
I close my eyes, feeling vindicated.
“ But ,” she says, “I also don’t think you should ruin your relationship with your parents over this one thing. They lost Tate, too, and are grappling with their own pain and hurt. Dividing your family over his death is wrong. They’re your family, and I don’t think that’s what Tate would want.”
Part of me knows Autumn and Stetson are right. But my grief and anger take hold of all logical thinking, and I can’t do it. I can’t forgive them. Not right now, at least. I need somewhere to place the blame and anger so it doesn’t fall on Tate. It’s easier to deal with his loss if I put him on a pedestal.
“It’s not just this one thing I’m mad at my parents for. It’s been building for a while now. You know they were against me moving to Chicago for this internship. It’s like my dad wants to keep me under his thumb forever, and when Tate or I or anyone else goes against his wishes, he can’t handle it. I mean, he barely spoke a word to me before I moved to Chicago as a punishment.”
“Families are complicated. And you guys have some crazy crap going on in your family right now.”
“That’s exactly why I’m staying at your house when I come home for Thanksgiving next month, even though you won’t be there. Your mom won’t care, will she?”
“Nah, she’d love it. You can sleep in my room. Did I tell you that Mrs. Richenbaugh called me last week?”
“What for?”
“She’s still trying to get me to fly home for a few weeks to fill in as the choir director, hold her place for her until she’s fully recovered and can lead the music for A Dickens Christmas. She says she’ll pay me. I’m sure it would be, like, ten dollars for the whole month.”
“Wait.” I straighten. “Say that again.”
“Say what again? That she wants me to fly in to be her sub for a few weeks while she’s gone?”
I smile. “Autumn, you are incredible!”
“What did I do?”
“I have to go. There’s something I need to figure out for work.”
I say goodbye before clicking off the call and running to my computer.
Waiting in the parking garage for your boss to arrive at work might seem a little too eager, but I can’t help it.
I’m really excited about this idea.
I thought about calling Nash at home over the weekend but talked myself out of it because Nash is my boss and I’m supposed to be all-in with Stetson. So I waited until bright and early Monday morning.
His Land Rover pulls into the parking garage, and the headlights shut off.
I slowly stand from my spot on the nearest cement parking block.
“Sadie?” Nash looks concerned as he comes around his car. “Is everything okay? Are you alright?”
It’s cute that he’s so worried, but I push those unhelpful thoughts away.
“Locum tenens!” I bounce a little as I burst the words out. I can’t help it.
Nash’s brows crease together. “What?”
“Locum tenens. It’s where providers work at healthcare facilities on a temporary basis to fill in gaps or cover for people who are on vacation or on maternity leave until they come back or until full-time providers can be found.”
Amusement takes over his expression. “I’m aware what locum tenens in the healthcare industry are, but why are you talking about them in the parking garage at seven-thirty in the morning?”
“That’s my big idea.” My smile spans from ear to ear. “That’s how you elevate your business. Think about it. You’re already staffing permanent doctors and nurses. But what if you also provide staffing for temporary positions? What if we work with doctors and nurses around the US and connect them with facilities that need temporary help? Superior Health would be, like, a one-stop shop for every kind of staffing need.”
Right now, I hate how masked Nash’s expression is. I can’t tell if he hates my idea or loves it.
“Why aren’t you saving this to use at your dad’s business?”
“Because bringing you a killer idea is part of my internship.” My shoulders lift. “My dad’s company isn’t set up to take on something of this magnitude. But you are.”
He smiles, and it actually steals my breath. “Have I ever told you how amazing you are?”
He has.
So many times he’s helping me believe it too.
“So you like it?”
“I love it! I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before.” He walks toward the door, holding it open for me. “Let’s go get started. You have a lot of work to do.”
“Me?”
“Well, us— I’ll help too. But from now on, this is your baby—if you’re okay with that.”
“I’m more than okay with that.”
For the first time since I moved to Chicago, I finally feel like the person I want to be.