“Is that why you got on a plane at four thirty in the morning? So you could tell me that?”
I took a beat before I responded.
“The thing with that guy. Is it serious?”
I could tell she was trying not to smile. My stomach sank all the way to the floor. “It’s new,” she responded shortly.
It was new. All the hairs on my body suddenly stood on end. I wanted to tell her that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. That she was the first woman in a long time who had made me feel alive.
“But we aren’t,” I said, getting up and walking to the door. I wanted her to confirm that my feelings weren’t one-sided, that this wasn’t all in my head. But I couldn’t sit there while I waited.
I noticed the article I had sent sitting on a small table by the door that housed a stack of mail. I wondered what it meant that she hadn’t responded.
“Parker…” she started. I turned, ashamed of how expectant I must have looked. She smiled and shrugged.
I picked up a copy of Southern Coast that was in her mail pile and held it up, attempting to cover my pain with a joke. “No non-McCann publications allowed, young lady.”
She smiled. “If you want me to quit reading non-McCann magazines, then you’re going to have to buy Southern Coast.”
Greer always used to say that, too. Greer and Amelia. Two very different women. One a product of the luxury, pomp, and circumstance of Palm Beach and New York, the other raised by the simplicity of a small slice of Southern shore. But they both loved Southern Coast. And, as was becoming clearer by the minute, I loved both of them.
Amelia
GOSPEL TRUTH
I HAD NEVER REALLY SEEN Parker in his element. Well, I mean, I had seen him in his element surfing or fishing or hunting or making good grades. But I hadn’t seen grown-up Parker in his custom suit, standing before an entire magazine staff—editors and all—announcing that a big change was about to come their way. To be honest, he wowed me. In fact, I could barely focus on what he was saying, just that he seemed so powerful in front of this room, so commanding, so effortless, delivering what—let’s be honest—wasn’t going to be good news for everyone. And, weirdly, his accent was incredibly neutral, professional, like he could have been from anywhere in the country. I actually kind of hated that part.
My new coworker Lucia, who was quickly becoming my work friend, leaned over and said, “New boss is a hottie. Wonder what his policy on workplace relationships is?” She winked at me from underneath her curtain of luscious eyelashes, and a jealous heat rose through me. I knew she was kidding, but I sounded entirely too stern when I said, “They’re frowned upon.”
I snapped back to Parker as he was saying, “One of McCann’s fortes is seamlessly interlinking print and online presence. So I’d love to hear your ideas about how we could do that. This is your magazine, after all.” He paused. “And if those ideas increase revenue, well, then so much the better for all of us.” A light chuckle wafted through the room, and my hand went up.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, pointing at me, his Southern drawl finally shining back through in the most adorable way. I guessed he couldn’t say my name because it would intimate that we had a relationship, which would immediately put him—and me—at odds with the rest of the staff.
“I’ve been assigned the monthly home features,” I started. So, no, it wasn’t investigative, but I did get to do interviews with some of the most famous designers in the country—and their A-list clients—that were interesting and fun. Creating a compulsively readable story that combined the feel of the family, the expertise of the designer, and actual factual information about the decor fulfilled me in a way that surprised me. It was a new challenge, and rising to it was thrilling. “I was thinking that when I write the monthly home features, we could make the images shoppable online, so that people can actually buy the pieces in the room, and we could make an affiliate commission.”
He smiled at me. And it wasn’t a new-boss smile. It was a Parker-and-Amelia smile, one that warmed me to the tips of my toes. “Genius. I love it. Anyone else?” He glanced at the other end of the table, pointed to Dan from marketing. While Dan was talking, Parker smiled at me.
I leaned back in my chair, satisfied by the praise, happy that I had looked competent in front of my new-ish coworkers. Parker and I were in this together. And I couldn’t help but notice that we made a terrific team.
* * *
“I do not understand,” I was saying to Martin, two days after Parker’s impromptu visit, “why my mother insists that I come home every year for this fishing tournament. I don’t even like to fish.”
He spread himself dramatically across my bed. “Well, your daddy likes to fish, and he likes for you to be there, so maybe it’s more about that.”
I zipped four sundresses into a hanging bag, knowing that I absolutely loved the Summer Splash. I was just in a mood.
“You said, like, a million times that you weren’t going to this thing this year. What made you change your mind?”
I shrugged noncommittally. So, yes, maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that I hadn’t been able to get Parker out of my mind since he showed up on my doorstep two days ago and shone in that board room, damn it. I saw him in a brand-new way, one that combined the charm of our history with fresh feelings for a real man at the top of his game, one who could command a room but also listen, who could make rules but also take criticism. I had known Parker was cute and smart and all that. But it had eluded me that the man was a catch.
But Parker meant baggage. He meant backstories. He meant mothers who were best friends. Most of all, he meant living in the shadow of a dead woman, because Parker would never get over her. And I wasn’t willing to put myself through that.
Fortunately, Martin either didn’t notice my pause or simply decided not to press me on it. “Traveling with a hanging bag seems like a nightmare,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “It is. It totally is, but Mom will be mad if I’m wrinkled.” I sprayed the perfume that Harris got me in the air and walked through it, feeling my annoyance dissipate. “I owe you big-time,” I said, turning back to look at my friend.
He nodded. “I know. And don’t screw this up. If you throw him out like last week’s garbage, it will not do great things for my career.”
I smiled. “I won’t” I said. And I meant it. I couldn’t count the number of times over the months since Thad and I had split that I had said I wasn’t going to move on, that I wasn’t going to get serious with anyone. And, while Harris and I weren’t serious per se, we were heading in the direction of serious at a rapid clip. “I think I’ll probably stay at his place tonight,” I said. “That okay?”
Martin groaned. “Is it okay not to have to sleep with my noise-canceling headphones on? Yeah. I’d say that’s okay.”
I gasped, flushing, and put my hand to my mouth.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Martin said, even though he wasn’t.
I bit my lip and said, “Well, let’s just say if I had slept with Harris a little bit earlier, I would have realized a lot of things about my marriage sooner.”