Chapter 4
four
Tripp didn’t wait too long to get our brainstorming session scheduled. Two days after our initial meeting at his office, I met him for coffee and to plan the next stage of the campaign.
“I made a list,” Tripp said and handed me a sheet of paper. “These are all of the more extreme adventures we offer and a few we’ve been considering adding.”
I didn’t want to, but I took the paper. We’re sitting at a small table outside a coffee shop near Take the Leap’s downtown Nashville office. Reading down the list, a knot the size of the moon formed in my stomach. I was going to have to do some of these.
Hot air balloon ride. Rock climbing. Rollercoaster. The list went on and on. I turned the page over and found even more things I’d never even thought of but knew, without a doubt, that I had zero desire to consider, much less try.
I hated this campaign more all the time. Why couldn’t we have pitched a mattress company or a bookstore? Those are the kind of challenges I can handle.
“It’s a lot, I know.” He almost sounded apologetic. His blue eyes darkened with sympathy. I searched them for something closer to mocking but only found sincerity. At least he came along with all of this ridiculousness.
“Which of these are least likely to kill me?”
“All of them.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “You mean all are likely to kill, injure, or maim me?”
“None of the above.”
I pointed to the first item on the list. “Roller coaster. I once saw an episode of Grey’s Anatomy where the roller coaster flew off the tracks and hit a funnel cake stand. People on the ground were burned with the hot oil from the stand, and two people got trapped in the roller coaster car. Then, their friend fainted, and it turns out she had a tumor.”
Tripp’s face shifted from a jovial expression to one of slight concern as he considered this for a moment. “Do you know why that makes for good TV?”
I pulled my lips into a straight line. “Because it’s terrifying?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Yes, but also because it would never actually happen.”
“Freak accidents happen all the time.”
“Okay, so how about a ride-along in a race car? A professional driver, extreme safety gear, and a controlled environment—all of those sound nice and safe to me.”
“Until the driver has a random medical emergency and slams into the wall, trapping both of us in a burning car.”
“Are all of your scenarios inspired by medical dramas? If so, we might want to start by changing up your streaming queue,” he said, smiling.
“No, I just have a very vivid imagination. For example, there is more than one way to die in a race car. Let’s say a tire blows—same outcome. A freak rainstorm comes out of nowhere, and the driver loses control.” I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms. “I can sit here all day and catastrophize every single item on your list.”
“Catastrophize?” His mouth stumbled over the word.
“It’s one of my talents. I learned in therapy that it’s a common trauma response.” The smile dropped from his face as soon as I said the word trauma . He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t want to dive into my childhood with a brand-new client, so I spoke up before he could ask any questions. “And, if it were an Olympic sport, I’d have a gold medal and hold all of the world records. Go on, try me.” This was a challenge I was actually up for. I could do this all day.
His lips quirked up into a smile. “Escape room?” He picked one of the less crazy options I’d given them. But, of course, I could still outline its danger.
“The mechanisms to unlock the doors malfunction because there is a building fire.”
“Kayaking?”
I laughed. “Are you trying to challenge me, Mr. James? Because this is child’s play.” He waved his hands, encouraging me to go on. So, I did. “The boat tips over, trapping me underwater, and I drown. A water moccasin pops into the boat and bites me.”
“Spelunking.”
“The cave collapses, and we’re trapped underground until we suffocate or die of dehydration.”
“Can you do this for everyday, normal tasks, too?”
I glanced around the coffee shop’s patio. “Absolutely, I can. Right now? Active shooter, earthquake, out-of-control city bus,” I said and lifted my untouched muffin. “Or I could choke on this.”
He shook his head, and his smile faded. “How do you have fun?”
“I curl up in the safety of my home and read or binge-watch my comfort shows.”
“Like Grey’s Anatomy ? Even though it seems to inspire some of your more exaggerated fears?”
I might have balked if he’d been the first person to say this to me. But he wasn’t, and I didn’t. I’d heard it all before. To everyone else, I sounded ridiculous, and I got that. No one, not even my twin brother or my closest friend, understood what it was like inside my head. I’d spent years in counseling and done EMDR therapy to try and sort through the traumas that had led me to this stage in life. Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing type of therapy to help lessen the triggers and stress associated with trauma. Basically, you think about the memory and the feelings that come with it and what you want those feelings to be and let your eyes follow a moving light. It was weird and definitely helped improve my relationships with friends and co-workers, but the fears remained. So, I learned to live with it. I learned to find joy and happiness in the safety of simple things like reading or getting lost in a TV show. I’d come to terms with all the things I’d never do. It’s not like I wanted to do them, either. So, I wasn’t missing out on anything.
“Have you ever been so paralyzed with fear that the thought of just breathing was too much?” I asked. He shook his head. “It’s like the world and time just stop. My life doesn’t flash before my eyes or anything dramatic like that. I don’t think I actually believe any of these things will happen because, logically, I know they won’t. But the mere idea of it makes it feel plausible. Is it rational? No, but that’s just how my brain works.”
“Is that why you always hesitate at the elevators?” he asked, and I nodded. “Can I ask why?”
“Why what? Why am I scared of elevators? Why do I doomsday every tiny thing? If you ask me, it’s just simple self-preservation.”
Tripp considered this for a moment. “Do you know why I started Take the Leap?” he asked.
“No, but I’ve been dying to ask.” I knew my story, but I’d been curious what would cause someone to turn out the exact opposite of me.
“My little brother,” he said.
“I didn’t know you had a brother, just your sisters.” Our research into Tripp James showed that he was close to his family. They were all part owners in the business and big supporters of his.
“Noah. He came along when I was fifteen. He was a surprise baby, and I was just excited to finally not be the only boy. I love my sisters, but when they hit those tween and teen years, it got rough being the only boy in the house.”
I swallowed back the dozens of questions that sprang to my mind. There was only one way this story would end, and it wasn’t mine to interrupt.
“Noah was a lively baby. He was always laughing and playing. He brought a whole new energy to the house. But just before he turned four, he started to slow down. He was lethargic and tired all the time. It was leukemia. I donated bone marrow and took a semester off from college to stay home and help Mom and Dad. I stayed with him that entire year.”
The lingering pain of grief tugged his lips into a deep frown. Seeing it so plainly on his face brought up memories of my own grief. My throat tightened as tears welled in my eyes. His fingers twitched on his mug, and I was overcome with the need to comfort him. But I couldn’t find words adequate enough to convey my sympathy. Instead, I offered a soft smile and nodded for him to continue.
“He really got into watching the X-Games and every extreme sport we could find video of. His favorite thing to watch, though, was skydiving videos. For his fifth birthday, my sisters and I all went skydiving. We recorded the whole thing and played it for him. He got so excited knowing we’d done that just for him. He died two days later.”
Knowing how the story would end didn’t make that last sentence any less heartbreaking. “I’m so sorry.” It felt like such a useless thing to say, but I didn’t know what else to offer.
“It was hard for everyone. I still miss him every day, and I often find myself wondering what kind of person he’d have grown up to be. That first year was difficult for all of us, but for my parents especially. On his birthday the next year, my sisters and I surprised our parents with another skydiving trip. They came with us, and we all jumped together. We’ve done it every year since.”
“That’s the story that needs to be in the About Us section on your website. I mean, wow. It’s a beautiful tradition. Terrifying but beautiful. I imagine Noah is watching and cheering you all on.”
“I like to think so.” A soft smile returned to his face. “Sometimes I like to imagine that he’s hanging around the office watching me work.”
“And that’s why you do the annual Leukemia and Lymphoma Society fundraisers.” He nodded. “So, why isn’t that story on the website? There's no mention of Noah anywhere.”
At this, his head dropped. “In the early days, it was. I talked about Noah in every interview when I started the company. Then we brought in a branding agency that decided it wasn’t edgy enough and didn’t match the image we needed to portray to attract a decent client base. It made me look too soft .”
Wow. My eyes widened in horror. Now, I was truly speechless. Ava and I would never recommend removing the heart and soul from a company, especially not one founded for such an altruistic reason.
“Tripp, I don’t even know what to say to that. Noah and your family are what make you and your company so amazing.” I barely knew the man, but his love for his family was so clearly written all over his face. “And being soft isn’t a bad thing.”
“Well, hopefully we can change that, right? That’s why we’re here; to reinvent Take the Leap.”
We sat together in silence as we finished our coffee. I watched closely at the way he carefully brought his mug to his lips and took a sip. He closed his eyes for a split second as he savored the taste. There was so much more to this man than his Instagram profile let on. I felt a strong urge to keep peeling back the layers of Tripp James, but I suppressed it. He was a client, and I wasn’t interested in anything more than that. Even if I was, the last thing I needed in my life was a boyfriend who jumped out of planes for a living. Or a boyfriend in general.
“So, bungee jumping?” I asked after an employee came to clear our mugs and plates.
“Is that where you want to start?”
“Want to is a bit of a stretch, but sure, let’s go with that.”
“Excellent choice. I know just the place to practice.” A hint of mischief danced in his eyes. “How do you feel about trampoline parks?”
“I have no feelings about them.”
“Nothing to catastrophize there?”
“I mean, of course there is. Broken legs. Vomit or other bodily fluids in the foam and ball pits. A snapped spine from a poorly executed landing. The possibilities are endless here, Tripp.”
He narrowed his eyes and studied me. “You’re a very interesting woman.”
“So, I’ve been told. Usually immediately after someone accuses me of being boring and never having fun.” I raised an eyebrow at him to remind him of his earlier questions. He raised his hands in defense.
“I’m just trying to get to know you. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few months, and I’m going to have to help you through all of the challenges.”
I pointed down to the list. “Only four more to choose.”
“Do you want to go ahead and pick them?”
“Easy there, spider monkey, one terrifying thing at a time.”