Chapter Two
Max
I wake up to a hand in my face, bright blue nails inches from my nose, and adjust enough to see Becca lying across from me. My head throbs and the light streaming in from the windows in my bedroom is bright.
“Becca?” I croak out, my eyes adjusting to the light and realizing it is much brighter than normal for early morning. “Becca! What time is it?” I yell a little louder and start trying to shuck blankets off of my body and feel around for my phone.
“Time for you to lower your voice, probably,” Becca grumbles and rolls over.
I grab my phone after untangling my feet from the fluffy duvet.
“Shit, it’s already eight-thirty, Bec, I should’ve already been at work,” I go to stand up and realize my attempts at untangling my feet were futile as I face-plant into the cream-colored rug covering the dark wood floors.
My phone breaks my fall under the heel of my hand, and I hear a small snapping sound.
“If that was one of your bones, I absolutely cannot drive you to the ER in this condition.” Becca shifts on the bed and Bart sniffs around my head. I lie motionless for a few seconds before she croaks again, “Signs of life?”
“I’m alive.” I roll my eyes and push up onto my knees, pushing the perpetrating sheet from my foot. I lift my phone back up. “My phone, on the other hand, is a little fucked.”
I push myself up and sit back on the bed.
“You smell like wine,” Becca mumbles and sits up next to me.
“That’s just what I wanted to hear.” I stare up at the ceiling and throw the phone to the bottom of the bed. “I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
“I could’ve said the smell of your shirt makes me want to throw up, but I didn’t! You’re welcome!” Becca shouts after me and I hear Bart jump on the bed with her.
I throw the wine-stained shirt and leggings in the hamper before stepping into the walk-in shower.
The glass is foggy and if I squint my eyes, I can almost pretend I’m somewhere exotic.
A luxury hotel where no one knows my name.
I take a second under the hot water and start to come to terms with the fact that all the work I have waiting for me won’t get done without me actually physically going into the office.
“I know you have to go to work, but is it okay if I take a bath before I go? I’ll lock up and feed Bart.” Becca’s voice bubbles over the sound of the water rushing over my body and her shadow walks past the fogged shower glass. “I can’t resist your big, fancy spa tub… it calls to me.”
“Yeah, actually, that’d be helpful,” I soap up my body really quick and wash my face.
“You know what else you could do for me?” I snake my arm out of the glass shower door and grab the oversized white towel to wrap around myself.
“Build a time machine and not put that envelope in the mailbox last night.”
Becca cringes as I step out of the shower.
She’s cross-legged on a bathmat in front of the bathtub that takes up half the bathroom, tying her short hair up in a half-bun.
“I hear you, it wasn’t my best hour, but it was just a save-the-date with an RSVP.
Maybe they will cancel. Or send back another dis-invite invitation?
” She sighs and looks at the floor. “I am sorry. But worst-case scenario, you just don’t go, it’s not like you will have to see Patrick or Bren-duh,” she puts emphasis on the end of her name and makes a face.
“Last night you were all, ‘We have six months to find a cute outfit and it’s at that winery!’” I throw my other hand up in a jazz-hands motion, mocking her.
“Well, those things are also true. And, for the record, I do think you should go! Show him what he missed out on and go on a mini-vacay.”
I finish up and go to the closet. “I don’t know, Bec.”
I pull out a fluffy cardigan, a plain dark green tee and some dark wash jeans. As I’m slipping into them, Becca walks into the closet.
“You need a new wardrobe.”
I roll my eyes at the topic that never ceases to exist with Becca.
“You should get a personal shopper. Or!” She spins around me and throws her arms up, striking a pose. “I know! I could do it!” She points both thumbs at her chest.
“Pass.” I smile and walk out, grabbing a scarf on the way into the bedroom and then my phone off the bed. “My wardrobe may be outdated but I can’t pull off bright colors like you can, and I just know you’d buy pinks and greens to ‘brighten up my aura,’ or some equally hippie reason.”
“Okay, but hear me out, what if I just updated it a little?” She puts her fingers together to indicate a small amount and smiles. “No bright colors, pinky swear!”
“For what? To wear nicer clothes to work? Why? They don’t care what I wear.” I scrunch up my nose and grab my purse off the hook in the hallway.
“To wear nicer clothes for you, Maxie.” She looks up at me with puppy dog eyes and Bart is next to her on the stairs, staring at me with the same look.
“Maybe another day. But I love you for offering. Don’t you have work today?” I throw the scarf around my neck.
“No, I quit, remember?” She looks down at Bart and the energy in the room changes, going from bright and silly to suddenly somber and serious.
I stop fumbling with my second shoe and tilt my head at her, frowning. “Becca…” I say her name slowly and she looks all around the foyer, avoiding my gaze. “You said you were applying for a job and didn’t like the studio, but not that you quit. What’s going on?”
She looks up and I see her eyes glistening.
“You know how hard it is. This dumb communications degree gets me nowhere, no one cares about the degree, and I end up working for slightly above minimum wage at all these places, it’s hard, Max.
I’m so sick of things being so hard. After the PR job at the hospital…
” Her voice trails off, and I close the space between us, wrapping her in a hug.
After the hospital fire, Becca had never really landed again.
She’d been in PR there, good at it too, until the building burned down and she was one of the last people out because she was trying to make sure everyone else made it out first. They kept her on as long as they could after, but trauma and unemployment are a terrible severance package.
“Becca, you do not have to remind me or talk about that, I know. I’m so sorry.” I take her shoulders in my hands and try to get her to look down at me. “What can I do? Do you want advice or just ears to listen?”
Her eyes meet mine, tears threatening to spill over the lids at any moment.
“I need both, Max, I’m so lost. The landlord raised the rent, which is why I need the recommendation so badly and needed to be ready to start a new job ASAP—because I need the money.
” She sighs and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes.
“The job with the city pays well, more than the studio, but it’s still a temp position, 6 months, maybe a year.
I have to figure out what I’m going to do long-term. I’m just not a planner like you.”
She steps off the bottom stair and falls into another hug.
My heart aches for her. She hasn’t handled the trauma from the fire well and has jumped from position to position trying to find her place.
Every time she finds something she thinks will be long-term, something happens to make it fall through.
Or she quits, because the idea of working a dead-end job forever makes her want to puke.
“Let’s plan then, tonight, we can sit down and come up with a plan together. I’ll even leave the office right at 5 and grab Benny’s and we can do your recommendation, job hunt, all the things.” I rub her back with one hand and try to stop my mind from pre-planning for her before tonight.
“Okay, I can come back at five, especially for Benny’s mint chocolate chip.” She sniffs and Bart pushes between us, his tail wagging, lifting his nose against Becca’s leg. “Thanks, Bart, you’re the best friend a girl could have.”
I scoff and roll my eyes, releasing her from the hug.
“Just come back whenever.” I grab my purse and fish for my keys, taking off the house key.
“Here’s my new spare key,” I hand it to her and she takes it, but I don’t let go.
“You know, since I had to replace the last one you lost.” I give her a grin, and she rolls her eyes with a smile.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll guard this one with my life.” She pulls the key from my hands and looks at Bart. “Let’s go eat, Bart, have a good day, milady.” She does some weird spin with a curtsy and walks off to the kitchen.
I love her to death, and without her my world would definitely be a lot greyer. I look at my phone and realize it’s still cracked.
“Shit,” I mumble as I pull the door open to head down the street.
I do have a car. It’s a cute, little crossover SUV.
But the early fall air is perfect for a walk, and come winter, I will have no choice but to drive the car.
It’s only half a mile from my house to the office on Main Street, and I pass the mailbox on my way, shaking my head at where it mocks me from the sidewalk.
I consider all the ways it could go badly.
I push my thoughts away and see I’m already halfway down Main. There are plenty of cars on the road now and people walking on both sides of the street.
I glance up, happy to see the warm lights in the little bakery, Gabby’s, and two doors down, the Sellers & Courtney sign hangs from a dimly lit window. I sigh, debating whether I have time for coffee or if I need to just face all the to-dos since I am already running late.
I greet Deb at the front desk when I walk into the office.
“Hi, Maxine, you had a few calls this morning, I put the messages on your desk.”
“Thanks.”
When I started here, Carla let me choose where I wanted to sit.
There was an open office upstairs, but I’ve never been one for working in a closed room.
Two and a half years ago, the 3 offices upstairs and two desks in the back down here were filled with excited associate attorneys and other legal assistants, and a secretary or two, but they’re empty now.
Most of those associates chose to move to Boston with Mr. Courtney a year ago.
Carla splits her time between there and here.
I chose to set up my desk downstairs. It’s all exposed brick in here and the big front window makes it feel open.
I turn my attention to my laptop. It’s already 9:30, so my to-do list comes out of my purse next. I get to work on summarizing the things Carla wanted.
I am fully engrossed in the case laid out after making a few phone calls for more information and leaving messages, but my ears register the faint chime of the bell above the front door ringing.
“Good morning!” Carla’s singsong voice echoes through the high open ceilings of the office. I see her peek around the corner, like maybe I won’t be sitting here at my desk like I am every other day she checks.
I make a mental note to roll my eyes later. “Morning!” I say as cheerfully as I can manage. “How was the fundraiser last night?”
Carla walks further into the office. She wears a red pantsuit, with a paisley scarf and gold hoops.
Her grey hair is fashionably styled and straightened around her face, her red lips pulled into a smile.
She starts going on about the appetizers, gowns, and I nod along.
Soon enough, ten minutes have passed. She gets a call and with a quick waggle of her fingers, she heads up to her office.
Deb walks over to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk.
“Building at the end of Main sold,” she says, craning toward the window to peer as far down the street as she can without smashing her face on the glass. “Millie says it’s some real estate office. Very fancy.”
I let her chatter wash over me while I finish my notes. By the time I look at the clock, it’s already eleven. I’ve already done all the work Carla asked for, so I feel mostly caught up.
I draft Becca’s recommendation and send it off, closing the laptop and deciding I’ll spend my lunch getting Becca a new planner as a pick-me-up.
“I’ll be back in a bit, Deb.” I walk as fast as I can toward the front door, but not fast enough.
“Oh, Max, if you’re headed out can you grab a light lunch for the three of us? Or even Benny’s if you both prefer, it’s on me.” I hear Carla’s voice carry through the hallway upstairs and down to my ears.
I roll my eyes but oblige, heading out of the office.
I peek in the window of Gabby’s as I walk by, seeing the line has let up since the morning’s rush, and my stomach grumbles for a coffee and a pastry but I walk over to Benny’s to grab Carla and Deb lunch.
As I cross the street, I glance down the block. Box trucks are parked outside the big building at the end of Main—must be the one Deb was saying sold. A few guys in expensive suits stand out front.
The girl behind the counter at Benny’s takes my order and says dreamily, “Did you see the new tenants at the end of the block? So many expensive suits.”
I smile back at her. “I saw! Really weird that a real estate agent would want to move onto Main.”
“Oh, that’s not what I heard, I thought it was another—” She’s interrupted by the bell being rung by someone in the kitchen and the sandwiches passed to her from behind the counter.
I thank her and make my way back across to the office.
I hand off lunch to Deb and walk home to get my car to head to Target.
A bright glare catches my eye, coming from the sun glinting off of a new sign being hung down the block at the new real estate offices. I squint trying to make out the name, but all I can see is gold.