Before I could answer, Tanner Prescott, as promised, was heading in our direction. Lindsey did an above-average job of pretending she didn’t notice until he reached her.
Then she was gone. But her words lingered. My mind flipped immediately, out of habit, to Greer. But it terrified me to admit that Lindsey was right: I wasn’t thinking about tonight or this party or these people at all. My mind was up the coast, in the city that never sleeps, with the one that, I was now realizing, most certainly got away.
* * *
Three days later, I was on a plane to New York. I was going to sign paperwork and brief the office on the details of the new acquisition. But it could have waited. The papers could have been faxed; I could have sent someone else. I was going because I wanted to see Amelia.
I didn’t have a plan. I knew what I had always felt for her had resurfaced and I knew the loss of the babies would make things strained between us. And then there was a huge part of me terrified that if I tried to move on, I would only think of Greer.
Were it some other woman, we could date. We could say we’d tried. But if things went awry with Amelia, there was no coming back from that. We would be in each other’s lives forever.
And so, as I hailed a cab into the city, I decided that I wouldn’t tell her anything. Not yet. This meeting would be strictly professional. I looked at my watch, 7:13 a.m. I would be in the city before she left for work.
The cab smelled distinctly like eucalyptus. Maybe a little cinnamon. Peppermint? About halfway through the ride, caught up on email and tired of being inside my own head, my curiosity got the best of me. “What is that smell?” I asked.
I could see the driver’s smile in the rearview mirror. “Essential oils.”
“Why do you have them in the car?”
“Makes it smell better—and it’s supposed to promote good health.”
Good health. Those two simple words were all it took to catapult me backward, to staying up all night Googling Ayurvedic treatment centers, stem cell transplants, holistic therapy. When Greer opened her eyes that morning, I was filled with adrenaline. I was sure that one of these three packets I was about to present my wife held the cure. We would go to India or maybe just California or even the mountains of North Carolina. Three options. She could pick the best one.
But when I told her, she put her hands on my face. “My mother died of ovarian cancer, and now I am, too. It’s okay. It’s okay to just accept it, sweetheart. It doesn’t make you less of a man to admit when you have lost a fight.”
In the dark of night, I had been so sure this was the answer. This was going to save my wife. As I climbed in bed beside her, I realized that I hadn’t lost the fight, because it wasn’t my fight to win or lose. It was Greer’s. If this was what she wanted, then I had to take it like a man. Because it was her cancer. It was her choice.
Standing in front of the door to Amelia’s apartment that early morning, after that cab ride, I still wasn’t sure what I would say. But I guessed that, like Greer, I had a limited amount of time. And maybe I should get on with living.
One thing was for sure: I missed Amelia. I missed her face. I missed her smile. I missed the way she looked at me like she understood me even better than I understood myself. I was going to lead with my heart.
I was about to knock when the door opened, seemingly of its own accord. It wasn’t Amelia. And it wasn’t Martin.
I was getting ready to say that I must have the wrong apartment when Amelia appeared in her bathrobe.
“Parker?” she asked. She looked confused. “What are you doing here?”
Now I was racking my brain. Was this guy with Martin?
“Um,” I started. “I wanted to talk to you.”
She raised her eyebrows.
The man in the suit stood awkwardly in the doorway and then said, “Well, I’ll call you, Amelia.”
“Okay. I’ll look forward to it.” Amelia smiled giddily, and I wanted to punch this guy. He was definitely not with Martin.
He shook my hand and smacked me on the back. He had declared war.
Amelia tightened her robe string and put her hands up like What in the world? Then she gestured for me to come in.
She shut the door behind me and led me over to a Lucite table with a gold base and two chairs. Jesus, this place was gaudy. “I was just getting ready to make some coffee,” she said, ignoring the elephant in the room.
“Sure,” I said. “With—”
“Two sugars, Parker. I know.”
Her tone wasn’t angry exactly, but it wasn’t friendly, either. It was a tone I had never heard from her. Like a stranger.
“Did I just walk into something here?” I asked.
She turned to me, leaning on the small expanse of counter, and bit her lip almost guiltily. That was when I noticed how hot she was when she had just woken up. Bedhead suited her.
Before she could answer, Martin’s voice preceded him into the tiny kitchen. “Good morning, beautiful people!” he trilled.
He was already in his suit and perfectly coiffed. He stopped when he saw me. “Oh. Not the beautiful person I was expecting.”
I stood up and hugged him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
I nodded my head toward Amelia. “Just came to talk to this one.”
“Ah,” he said, looking almost embarrassed for me. It was not my favorite look on him.
He kissed Amelia on the cheek and said, “Actually, I think I’m going to grab my coffee on the way.”
I saw him mouth, Call me, to her.
She poured boiling water over a funnel/strainer combination filled with grounds, which was way fancier than my Nespresso.
She stirred in my two sugars and said, “Not to be rude, Parker, but I need to get ready for work.”
I shook my head. “No, you don’t. I mean, you do, but it’s okay if you’re late.”
She raised her eyebrow and sat down.
“McCann acquired Sea & Sky.”
Her face went red, and she said, “If you are here to tell me I’m fired again, I swear to God, Parker—”
I laughed and then cut her off, taking her hand from midair, bringing it back down to the table and putting mine on top of it. “You’re not fired, Amelia. In fact, you’re promoted. To whatever you want. I was thinking executive editor this year, maybe managing editor in another year or two?” I paused. “Not that you aren’t clearly suited for managing editor. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted all the pressure right away.”
She visibly relaxed, and I moved my hand, feeling sorry as I did.
“So I don’t need to get ready because you’re my new boss.”
I shrugged. “No. Not really. But also yeah. I won’t be in the office day in and day out or anything, but I wanted you to hear it from me this time.”
She nodded resolutely. “Well, thank you. I appreciate that. And I’m excited to be working for a McCann company. Despite firing me, I think you guys make some really responsible, positive changes in your acquisitions.”
She was so robotic toward me now. The smiling, flirtatious Amelia of my past seemed to have been replaced by this other woman, whose hair was falling seductively out of her messy bun but who refused to reveal her real inner power.