Chapter Four
Billie
The incessant ringing of my cell phone stirs me from a deep sleep. With a groan, I roll over and look at the clock on my nightstand. My eyes blink a few times against the bright light of morning as it pours in through the crack in my curtains, and I shake my head for a moment before peeking back at the clock, hoping the time I’m reading isn’t correct. 6:00 in the morning is not an hour I am used to seeing, at least from this side of it. Plenty of all-night study sessions as well as never-ending partying kept me up until this hour, but even that ended years ago. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I reach over to my phone, immediately alarmed when I see that it’s my father calling. He wouldn’t call this early if it wasn’t important.
“What’s going on, Dad?” I ask in fluent Bulgarian. Both of my parents may have immigrated to the US long ago and speak perfect English, but outside of work we speak in their native tongue.
A heavy sigh pours over the speaker and I brace myself for some bad news. As far as I know, both of my parents are in good health. My father is a regular down at the boxing club and my mother goes on long walks or hikes with her friends daily, so I can’t imagine that one or both of them is experiencing a health crisis. “This is a conversation better suited to the office, Biliyana,” he says with a resigned tone.
My dad always calls me by my full name whether I am in trouble or not, so that doesn’t give me any clue, but the fact that he wants to speak at the office is a little unusual. “Why at the office? Can’t you tell me now?”
“No.” It’s a simple and direct reply, his tone letting me know my presence is not a polite request. My parents weren’t strict with me growing up, but they did earn my respect and no matter what, when one of them makes a demand, I go with it. “Come in as soon as possible. This cannot wait.”
The lack of cheer in his voice has my stomach bottoming out. “Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye, Dad,” I tell him. My father is almost always in a good mood when we talk to one another, so to say I am shaken is an understatement. Hopefully nothing is majorly wrong with the business since I know how important it is to him. Work is basically his number one activity and if he doesn’t have that, I would start to worry about his health and happiness.
“Goodbye.” With that final word from Dad, the rock that has formed in my gut settles in for the long haul. His tone was so serious and his words so frank that I’m freaking out a little bit.
My mind whirs with ideas of what could possibly be going on as I slide off my plush bed and pad over the carpet to my bathroom. The marble tiles feel cold against my bare feet and I shiver as I turn on the water in the large glass shower. The apartment is a luxury one, leased by the firm. Normally that kind of thing is reserved for executives only, but being the daughter of the owner comes with more than a few perks. Covering rent is still my responsibility, though it is discounted, another perk of being Ivan Kochev’s daughter. Between that and my car being paid off, I’m able to invest most of my money in stocks and other things. My eyes flick over to the two wooden perfume bottles I ordered from Hodgepodge earlier this year and I smile. That is definitely an investment worth making. The other set were given to my mother who was brought to tears by the reminder of something her mother had when she was younger. Between those and the other things I’ve ordered both for myself and my parents, I’ve probably kept Carter pretty busy.
My smile widens at the thought as I step into the warm water, letting it release a little bit of the tension that’s settled into my body after my father’s phone call. Picturing Carter in his workshop, the sinewy muscles of his forearms on display as he carves into a piece of wood has me wanting to linger in the shower for a bit and take care of another kind of tension, but I don’t have time to indulge in that particular fantasy at the moment. After turning the water to cold and quickly washing up, I dry off and head over to my closet, trying to decide which outfit best works for a meeting of undetermined significance. Finally, I decide on a high-waist black skirt and pink blouse. Normally my style leans more toward sexy day-to-night ensembles, but if the business is in trouble, I need to look as professional as possible. After dressing quickly, I throw my wet hair into a high bun and make my way out to the kitchen.
My feet take me past the family room, the beige walls screaming for a bit of color. One of these days I’m going to replace all the black and white stock artwork with something more vibrant, more eclectic. Maybe another Carter Johansen original, I think to myself as I open the fridge and pull out some overnight oats. While I scarf down the blueberry flavored grains, the temptation to check on Hodgepodge’s Instagram page is real . My fingers twitch with the desire to whip out my phone and take a gander at any new photos. It’s been so hard not posting comments on the pictures I have seen, but I’ve persevered. As tough as it’s been, thinking that I’ve been making Carter uncomfortable isn’t something I can live with. Teasing and flirting is only fun if the attention is wanted, and if Jake is to be believed, it sounds like mine is definitely not.
With the oats gone and nothing left to do but face the music, I grab my purse and head down to the parking garage. My little red roadster is a welcome sight as I make my way over to it, slide inside, and turn on my dance music. There is no traffic to distract me as I make the short drive to work, dancing along with the music in an attempt to lift my spirits and take my mind off what my father wants to meet about. If the business is in trouble, I may have to look for another job. The dread I expect to feel at that thought doesn’t come. Instead, I think about how I could use my skillset elsewhere. Maybe I could start over, finally leaving the party girl firmly in the past. My chest balloons with something akin to elation as I think about finally being able to figure out who I really am, deep down inside.
After parking my car and hopping on the elevator, I’m finally at the thirty-fifth floor. When the doors open and I step out, my eyes wander around and take in the sight before me which is nothing but an unoccupied receptionist desk standing in front of a sea of empty cubicles. It’s just past 7:00, so it’s not surprising to see that no one else is here, but if the business is in trouble, people would be swarming around like angry wasps. Confused, I make my way towards the corner offices, my heavy feet practically dragging behind me. When I see that my dad’s is the only one with a light on, I suddenly wonder if maybe it’s not the business that’s in trouble, but me. Confusion turns to dread as my fist raises to knock on the door jamb, but I pause when my father’s light brown eyes meet mine and he waves me in, rendering my announcing myself useless.
“Come in, Biliyana.” We’re completely alone, but he’s speaking in English. It’s unsettling, and that rock in my gut sinks further still, anchoring my feet to the floor. When he sees I’m not moving, he smiles at me, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Please.”
“Okay.” My voice sounds small, childlike, as I step over to the chair in front of him and take a seat. It seems my ability to fake confidence doesn’t work with my dad, though I already knew that. Daddy’s girl is also up there along with all of the other descriptors for me. Anytime I was in trouble or anytime I was sad, I would go to my father and he would make it all better. A kiss to the tip of my nose could heal a skinned knee or a broken heart, but I have the feeling it’s going to take a lot more than that to fix whatever it is that I broke this time. “What did you want to meet about?”
Tall and built like a bear, my father is an imposing figure, but it’s the stoic expression on his normally affable looking face as he gathers his large hands together on his desk that has me feeling intimidated. “You took the owners of Foster Transportation out to a comedy club last night. Is that correct?”
A relieved sigh escapes my previously tight lungs. There is no way I could be in trouble about anything that happened last night. “Yes. We went to see the Chuckleheads. It’s an improv group. Everyone had a great time,” I explain. The owners didn’t participate as much as I thought they would, but they also hadn’t had as much to drink as some of the other audience members, so maybe that’s why. “Did they want me to get them tickets to another show?” It’s not uncommon for clients to want to hit the places I take them to again, and I’m happy to use my connections for them, even if being everyone’s nightlife guru has gotten tiresome.
“No, Biliyana. They don’t want more tickets,” he explains. His tone is dark and his expression even more dour than it was seconds ago as he rakes a hand through his silver hair, giving me a pointed look. “They were highly offended, not only by the content of the show, but by the fact that alcohol was served.”
My jaw drops because I can’t think of anything in the comedy show that I would deem offensive, though my humor is a little crasser than other people’s. And why alcohol? It’s not like I forced them to drink, and since I was driving I stuck to my virgin daiquiris. “I don’t understand. They seemed to have a good time.” Didn’t they? Maybe I had a great time and was so caught up in that that the other two people sort of faded from my concern. My interest in my job has waned quite a bit, so that might have affected things as well.
My father gives me a stern look, and I swallow thickly at the sight of it. “Mark Foster is a recovering alcoholic and his wife is a devout Christian. You should have taken them to the symphony or something like that, not a low-brow comedy show,” he explains gruffly.
A scoff comes out before I can stop it. “It wasn’t low-brow, and I’m sorry, but how was I supposed to know those things about them?” It’s not like there was a big flashing sign over their heads announcing that information, and it’s not exactly the type of thing you bring up in casual conversation.
My father’s expression gets even more severe and I know that no matter what the outcome of this meeting turns out to be, things aren’t looking too good for me. “It’s your job to know these things, Biliyana,” he barks out, clearly exasperated with me. I can almost see his disappointment in me coming off in waves as he shakes his head solemnly. Seeing him like this has me flashing back to all the other times I’ve felt this way around my parents. While trying to live up to my wild reputation, I got into a fair deal of trouble in high school, and the letdown continued when I chose a “party school” over more sensible options for college. The look my dad had back then is the same one I’m seeing now.
Disappointing my parents isn’t unfamiliar, but the feeling is as unwelcome as it always is. Thinking that I’m not meeting their expectations is like a tiny stab in my heart, and I once again wonder just what I’m doing with my life. Clearly an apology is in order, but I’m not sure it will make either of us feel any better. My head hangs low and I shrug my shoulder. “I’m sorry. How can I make it better?” If I have to endure a night at the symphony with mister and missus teetotaler in order to get back into my father’s good graces, I’ll do it.
“Nothing,” he says ominously. Standing up and rounding his large desk, my father takes the seat next to me. “It’s a million dollar account, and after a long talk with Mark Foster, I managed to convince him not to pull their business from us.” My dad sighs and leans back in the chair, his face is resigned when he finally meets my gaze. “Biliyana. I love you more than I love anything in this world, but you’re fired. Effective immediately, you no longer work here and you’ll have to relinquish your company apartment.”
It takes my mind a few seconds to catch up and process the words that just came out of my father’s mouth. “What?” As much as I don’t love my job anymore, it does provide me with money and something to fill my time. Oh, yes, and a living space that I am apparently going to have to vacate. “It was one mistake,” I sputter.
My father sighs again heavily, shaking his head and patting my knee. “It wasn’t just this one mistake, my treasure,” he tells me, slipping back into Bulgarian. “For a while now, both your mother and I have noticed your light dimming. You were always so happy, so full of life. Lately, it is like you are a ghost of your former self.”
My throat clogs with emotion and tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as I realize that perhaps I haven’t been hiding my feelings as well as I thought I had. My parents have known me my whole life, so it would make sense that they would detect a change in me. Blinking back the moisture that threatens to spill over, I rest my hand on top of his. “How am I supposed to fix that when I have no job and nowhere to live?”
My father raises his eyebrow and gives me a wry look. Fine. Maybe I am acting a slight bit overdramatic, but I can’t help it. My savings account is large enough that I can live off of it for a long while, so money isn’t really an issue. It’s more the idea of having nothing to distract me from ruminating on whether or not there’s more to me than meets the eye that scares the crap out of me. Self-reflection is tough and something I’m not looking forward to doing, and it will be unavoidable if all I have in front of me is an abundance of time.
“You can always move home with your mother and me.” When he sees my eyes widen in horror, my father chuckles lightly. “Or you can take the time you now have to visit Jake. I know you miss him, and maybe a change of scenery will be good for you.” He peers at me thoughtfully for a moment. “You are something more than you pretend to be, Biliyana. Maybe now you can discover just what that is.”
Am I more than I pretend? The question pops up and has the same effect it always does. A shuddering breath leaves my lungs and a tear escapes my eye at the thought that perhaps I’m not. My finger reaches up to flick away the moisture, but my father is already there to wipe it with his handkerchief. I sniffle and smile sadly at him. “Thanks.” After another deep breath and a look around his large office, I stand and walk towards the door.
My father follows suit and when I turn around, he pulls me into a big bear hug, his thick arms crushing me to his chest. “I love you, Biliyana. Go find your light.” He kisses the top of my head and sends me on my way. As I walk into my office for the last time and start gathering up what little personal items I’ve stowed here, a smile comes across my face and I whip out my phone to text Jake.
Billie: Hope you’re free this weekend. I’m coming for a visit.
A thumbs up is my only reply and I laugh at my best friend’s lack of communication skills. Jake isn’t shy, but he definitely likes to keep things succinct. Though I have a feeling that when I tell him I plan on staying for more than just a couple of days, he’ll have plenty more to say.
****
The slack jawed look on Jake’s face is almost picture worthy, but I doubt he’d be pleased if I reached into my pocket for my phone and snapped a photo to tease him with later. We’re at the dining room table, and I’ve just finished relaying the story of the comedy club incident and subsequent firing to Jake and Maya. JJ is here too, but I’m pretty sure he neither understands nor cares about my problems seeing as how all of his concentration is centered on pushing his mashed potatoes around his plate, no desire to give my troubles a second thought evident.
“I can’t believe your dad fired you,” Jake proclaims, shaking his head. His expression mirrors what I’m sure mine was just a couple of days ago when I got the news. It’s still hard to believe my own dad fired me, but after the talk in his office and another with my mom later that night, I’m trying to see it for the opportunity it is. I’ve spent so much time performing for others that now I finally get a chance to discover a little more about me and what I might really like to do with my life. Feelings of excitement and horror fill me when I think about what I’ll find out about myself, but hopefully the uncertainty will fade in time, letting the thrill remain.
“It seems like a bit of an overreaction to me,” Maya adds. Grabbing a napkin, she wipes a bit of smeared gravy off JJ’s chin while looking at me with sympathy. “It was one mistake.”
My shoulder shrugs as my eyes roam around the dining room. The walls are a welcoming, pale gray-purple with family photos covering any space not occupied by the large bay window opposite me. “It was more than that,” I mumble, pushing my food around my plate. It seems JJ isn’t the only one using his mashed potatoes as entertainment. “Honestly, I’ve been phoning it in for a while.”
“What?” Jake asks, his expression confused. “But you live for that stuff.” Jake knows me a little better than that, though to his credit, I have been playing up the party girl persona a lot more since he moved. Worrying him wasn’t something I wanted to do, so I may have implied that I was enjoying work and life a lot more than I actually was.
“Eh,” I say, putting my fork down. “I liked planning things and making sure people had a good time for the most part, but the job turned into me being a personal concierge for clients’ relatives. ‘Get me into the society pages, Billie. Where do all the influencers hang out now?’ Ugh, it was all just so meaningless.” My eyes finally meet my best friend’s. “I like socializing with and meeting new people, but what do I care if so and so’s influencer daughter gets a hundred more Instagram followers? It was superficial and gross.”
The seat creaks under my best friend’s weight as he leans back in it, his expression one of surprise. “Wow. I didn’t realize it was that hard for you.” Jake nods and scratches at his jaw, more stubble than he used to have growing on his face. He’s really embracing the whole mountain town vibe and from the interested gaze his fiancée is shooting him at the moment, it’s working for him. “So what are you going to do now?”
A heavy breath blows out through my lips. “That’s the million dollar question,” I muse, taking a drink of water. It’s to quench my throat that has gone dry from worrying about my next move as much as it is a stall tactic because I really have no clue where to start. “First, I need to find a place to live while I hang out in Starlight Lake. Are there any good rentals in town that you guys know of?”
Jake looks mildly offended. “You can stay with us. We have more than enough room now,” he insists. He reaches over and grabs his fiancée’s hand, looking over to Maya to get her nod of approval.
“Absolutely.” Her words echo his sentiment, but I can tell she isn’t quite as enthusiastic about having a long-term guest as my friend is. That is all well and good because I have no desire to disrupt their new family dynamic. Having a front row seat to Jake and Maya’s perfect romance is also something I could do without because I can’t figure out what the hell to do with my life if I’m spending most of my time being envious of their relationship.
“Thank you,” I tell them both. My hands reach across the table, giving both of theirs a firm squeeze. “But I am going to pass. You guys are still settling in and I don’t want to get in the way. I can find a place to rent or even stay at the hotel in town for a while. I’ve got the money, so it’s no big deal.”
Jake doesn’t look too pleased, but a wide smile comes across Maya’s face. Something tells me it’s not just because I won’t be bunking with them, especially since her eyes are dancing with mischief. “I do know where there is a room that recently became available, and you can even have it for free.” Jake looks at her and subtly shakes his head, but Maya ignores him and leans towards me, her eyes bright. “You can have our old room.”
My eyes widen. “With Carter?” My mouth opens and closes like a fish as I try to think of what to say to this proposal. On the one hand, it would be nice to not be alone, but I also love to flirt with him, and being so close and spending so much time with him sounds like it’s a temptation I don’t need. I am supposed to be focusing on myself, though, so maybe it will just be something fun to pass the time while I really dig in to “finding my light” as my dad put it. He’ll just be background noise while I figure out what to do with my life. Yeah, right, background noise you want to climb like a tree. Dismissing the unhelpful thought, I turn to Maya with a serious expression. “Would he be okay with that? I mean, he just got his privacy back. He probably doesn’t want a roommate.”
“Psh,” Maya scoffs, waving away my concern with her hand. “He hates living alone and would be more than happy to have you stay there. Besides, he loves helping people out and would probably be upset if he found out you were renting a place when he had a room you could stay in.”
From what I know of Carter, he does seem to like to help others. What I’ve gleaned from Jake and Maya is that he basically gave up any kind of life of his own to help his sister out, and this wouldn’t be nearly as big of a commitment. “Are you sure? Maybe we should call him,” I offer. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to pull them right back. The idea of living in the same space as Carter, with the possibility of flirty banter and maybe even a stolen glance at him as he leaves the bathroom in nothing but a towel, his skin wet and glistening is too good to risk on his saying no.
“Not necessary.” Maya pulls JJ’s plate away from him and starts wiping the mashed potatoes from his tiny fingers. “He’s on his yearly camping trip and won’t be back until late Sunday. You can sleep here tonight and then we can move you into the apartment tomorrow.”
“Well … all right.” My agreeing to a plan that I already had my heart set on the minute she mentioned it is easy to do. “But I won’t stay there for free.” My fingers tap on the wood table as I think of a way to repay them. They’re proud people, so I already know they won’t accept money, but maybe they would accept a trade of sorts. Another idea forms in my mind and I smile slyly. “I can work in the store. You’ve been wanting to spend more time on your crocheting, and this will give you a way to do that. Plus, Carter won’t have to take as many breaks from his projects to help out, so it’s a win for everyone.”
Maya looks thoughtful for a moment. “That does sound nice. You really want to work at the store?” She looks skeptical and when my eyes flick over to Jake, his head is bowed and he’s shaking it slowly. This is definitely not the worst idea I have ever had, but I know what he’s thinking. He doesn’t like me interacting with Maya’s brother because he thinks I’m just going to use him and lose him, but that’s not my plan, nor has it ever been. Still, I can’t blame him for thinking that since I’ve let everyone in my life believe I’m a little flighty. That doesn’t make the fact that he’s so ready to believe it sting any less though.
My head bobs emphatically. “I’d love to work at the store. I’ll go crazy with nothing to do and it will be my way of saying thank you for all you guys are doing for me.” There are a lot of other more fun ways I can think of for how I can thank Maya’s brother, but I shut down that line of thinking quickly. No need to make things awkward with him because then I really will need to find somewhere else to stay. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem,” Maya says. A happy smile decorates her face as she stands and grabs her son. “I’m going to get this little guy ready for bath time. Say night-night to Billie.”
JJ smiles shyly and waves at me. “Nigh,” he mumbles before burying his face in his mom’s shoulder.
“G’night Little J.” Maya and JJ walk out of the room and I turn to my best friend. “One of these days I’m going to get that kid to like me.” It may take depleting my savings account to buy out an entire toy store to do it, but it would be worth it to see a big smile painted across that adorable little face.
Jake sighs and tilts his head. “He’s not the one I’m worried about liking you,” he chides, his tone weary. I knew a lecture was coming, I just thought he would wait until his fiancée was out of earshot at least, but I guess I’m not that lucky. “I don’t think you living with Carter is a great idea, but I’ll go along with it. Just … promise me that you won’t toy with him.”
The sting from that admonishment is brutal, but I cover it up with my trademark smile. “I won’t toy with him,” I vow. Rising and grabbing my plate, I walk over into the kitchen to hide the embarrassment at how little my friend thinks of me. Needing to stifle that feeling, I try for a joke. “That is, unless he asks me to.”
There is no need to bother looking back at Jake to know what he’s doing. Surely he’s shaking his head, his expression dire as he wonders how he can best protect his future brother-in-law from me and my man-eating ways. There’s no need for it, though the more I think about it, the less my words seem like a joke. Carter is a grown man and can handle himself. And if he decides that he wants me to handle him a little as well? All the better.