Chapter 1 #2
Shifting in his chair, he hesitates, then says, “I’m in a bit of a pinch. Iceland was Suki’s story, but she broke her ankle roller-skating this weekend. Abigail is going on maternity leave any day now. Devon just returned from Cairo. And Jeff’s preparing for his wedding next month.”
Ah. Now this makes sense.
There are four Internationals, and Suki and Devon are the two typically assigned to locations with any need for athletic prowess.
Both are the fit, outdoorsy, adventure-loving, risk-taking types.
I don’t know much about Iceland, but somewhere in the depths of my brain I recall the country is known as the land of fire and ice, which certainly has the ring of an adventurous, risk-taking kind of place.
There once was a time in my career I used to daydream of an overseas assignment, yet I always imagined something serene and relaxed. Riding a gondola through Venice. Carb-loading in Rome. Driving the rolling landscapes of Tuscany in an open-top convertible with my silk scarf whipping in the wind.
So, Italy. I imagined Italy.
Iceland feels challenging.
“If you don’t want it, I’ll get someone else,” Calvin says at my silence. “I thought everyone aspired to be an International. Was I wrong about you?”
This comment irks me on a deep level.
I used to want nothing but this, would have sold my soul for it actually.
But four years ago when there was an opening in the international division, I gathered my courage and applied, only to be passed over in favor of Devon, an outside hire.
Calvin didn’t even interview me, just announced Devon’s arrival at the next staff meeting.
I took that as a clear signal he didn’t think I had what it takes.
And he was probably right, he knows this business better than I do.
So, I’d tucked away my childhood dreams of seeing the world and decided I was content covering my weekend fried-pickle festivals and small-town county fairs.
At least I have a job writing for a living that pays my rent—as long as I keep a roommate—and provides decent health insurance.
Well, as decent as health insurance gets in this country anyway.
But maybe that long-buried dream isn’t completely dead after all.
Or maybe it’s just been resurrected, and on my birthday no less!
That has to be a sign, right? Fifteen minutes ago I was bemoaning another year passing while my life remains stagnant, but this lucky break (for me, sadly not for Suki) could change everything.
Iceland may not be what I’d imagined, but this could be my chance to finally prove I’m worthy of being an International.
An opportunity seven years in the making.
“No! You weren’t wrong,” I suddenly demand. “I want this. I’ll go.”
Calvin Cramer III signals his approval with a stern nod. “Glad that’s settled. This is last minute, so you leave on an overnight flight out of JFK Monday night. Will that be a problem?”
Problem? Only having the weekend to figure out what one takes to Iceland? “No. No problem, sir. I’ll be ready.”
He nods again, adding, “Now, one other thing. About your photographer…”
Around the Globe’s customary procedure is to send teams of two to cover an assignment.
One writer. One photographer. I hope it’s one of the newer photographers, Jaylen, going to Iceland with me, though I’m doubtful.
He hasn’t had an international assignment yet, but there’s something about his photos that screams raw talent.
“We’re going freelance on this one,” Calvin continues, dashing that hope. “There’s a photographer I’ve been wanting on our team for years now, but he always turns me down. Just yesterday I finally persuaded him to do this one assignment as a test run.”
“Oh. Okay.” I’m not sure how I feel about traveling across the globe with a complete stranger, so I make a mental note to pack some pepper spray. Then I make another mental note to google if pepper spray is TSA approved.
“You’ll be spending a lot of time together, so make sure to let him know how wonderful it is to work for Around the Globe.
” Calvin pauses a beat, appearing to consider his next words carefully.
“And keep in mind, this photographer is very important to me, Mona. I’m giving you a chance here to show me what you’re capable of.
If things go well, there may be a permanent spot for you in the international division. ”
Those last sentences send a jolt of unease through me. I get a clear sense that if I want a shot at my dream again, not only do I need to write the best article of my life, but I also need to recruit this photographer like my career depends on it—because I think it just might.
I smile pleasantly and ask, “And who is this photographer you think so highly of?”
Calvin straightens in his desk chair and adjusts his paisley tie. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the work of Benjamin Carter. He’s been featured in publications such as The Times, National Geographic, and—”
Calvin continues speaking, but I no longer hear anything beyond the blood rushing through my ears. My body goes rigid, my limbs stiff.
This isn’t happening.
Life cannot possibly be this cruel.
Not the Benjamin Carter—or just Ben as I know him (correction, knew him)—who grew up with me in our small hometown an hour and a half north of the city.
Not the Ben who was best friends with my twin brothers and practically lived at our house, or the Ben who always smelled of summertime and fresh cotton.
No, it couldn’t possibly be the Ben who spent the summer before our senior year sneaking into my bedroom late at night after everyone else was asleep—the same Ben who led me to believe I was special, that I meant something to him, and then vanished from my life and shattered my fragile teenage heart into a billion pieces.
“—Ah, and here he is now.”
Calvin’s words catapult me back to the present as heavy footsteps land behind me.
Achingly slowly, as if moving underwater, I cast a glance over my shoulder.
My gaze first lands on a pair of faded jeans, then scans upward over a white henley, coming to a stop on the face I haven’t seen in person since I poured my heart out to him, only for him to walk out of my life for good.
My eyes catch with his apple green ones, and I lose my breath.
“Mona,” Ben says, voice and expression equally timid, “it’s been a while.”