CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Violet
I drop Daisy’s suitcase in her entryway with a sigh of relief. Home, sweet home. Or home, sweet Daisy’s couch in my case. Traveling sucks. Traveling while feeling sorry for yourself sucks even more.
So that’s over.
The trip.
And Jennings.
I want to hate him, but I don’t. I want to be angry at him for showing me something wonderful and then taking it away.
Fine. I’m a little angry. I kick off my shoes and grab a diet soda from the fridge before slumping onto the couch.
It was all a big fat lie anyway.
Because I’m a liar and I got what I deserved, didn’t I? Still, I did my best to tell him the truth. As much as I could.
My feelings were real.
Daisy’s apartment is so quiet I can hear her wall clock ticking. Tick, tick, tick.
He left without so much as a goodbye. I’m sorta numb about that. Like how in the hell does that happen to a girl twice? At least with Mark I was able to call him an asshole to his face. I had to leave Jennings a note, since I couldn’t find him. I asked at the front desk if he’d checked out. They don’t normally share information like that but they knew me as the tour guide. I played it off like I was worried about him getting to the airport and wondered if he’d checked out yet.
Nope. He extended his stay. His and his nan’s.
So on my way to the airport I left a note for him at the front desk. Who even knows if he got it, but I felt good writing it.
Yet as I sit here I’m conflicted. I so badly want to make excuses for him. Understand what happened. Maybe something came up? An emergency? Maybe I misunderstood and I was supposed to meet him somewhere and I’m the one who didn’t show up?
These crazy thoughts are swiftly followed by rational ones. The ones that point out none of that is likely. That he knew which room I was staying in. That he didn’t leave a note for me at the desk. That he never picked up his phone. That he owed me nothing.
I’ve got no right to be upset.
I asked for a one-night stand and I got it. I cringe, remembering that I told him I was counting him as my one-night stand. I’m such an asshole.
I pop open the soda and wiggle the can tab back and forth until it pops off. I’m not sure why I do this. I don’t like drinking out of the can if the tab is missing. It feels weird against my lips, unfamiliar. It shouldn’t make the soda taste any different but it ruins the experience.
That’s me. I’m an experience-ruiner.
Maybe he was lying too? Maybe he doesn’t have a job either and lives on his nan’s couch? He said he had his own place but hell, I said I was a tour guide. Maybe he’s wanted by the law or has a terminal disease and didn’t want to put me through the pain of losing him slowly.
Okay, fine. That’s unlikely.
He wouldn’t have made it through customs if he was a wanted felon and no one with a terminal disease has that kind of stamina.
Was it just an escape for him this week? From the real world? That’s what he was supposed to be for me, when it started. One night where I pretended to be someone I’m not. Someone more like my sister. Outgoing and spontaneous and, well, easy.
Perhaps I was merely a convenient booty call, like Daisy was for George, and I’m an idiot for thinking it was something it’s not.
Except… whatever it was we had became real for me, real fast. I thought it did for him too. I know it did. So he’s either one hell of an actor or a coward.
Gah! That’s probably it. He’s a commitment-phobe. A thirty-six-year-old man with a job and his own place who looks like he does would not be alone if there wasn’t something wrong with him.
I bet he’s not even thirty-six. I bet he’s almost thirty-seven. Ha.
Wow. I’m not good at throwing shade. Also, I’m not sure it counts as shade if I’m not saying it out loud. I suck.
As an added slap in the face to all of this, I have a job interview.
Next week.
In London.
We were in the middle of the walking tour in Philadelphia when the call came. I slipped outside to take it while the group toured Independence Hall, standing outside with the phone pressed to my ear and a huge grin on my face. It’s a dream job for me. A dream bigger than I’d have ever dared dream if Jennings hadn’t suggested it. Pushed me, even.
It’s with Sutton International—the parent company of the tour company Daisy works for—in their London offices. I applied for it earlier in the week when Jennings suggested moving up in the company. Of course I applied as an external applicant since I don’t actually work for the company. But he’d gotten me thinking with the suggestion and I figured why not? There was no reason I couldn’t apply as myself, as Violet. So I did. And I got the call.
When I answered and realized the call was from Sutton International asking for Violet I almost thought I was caught. As if they would call me on my cell phone to ask if I was impersonating Daisy. Silly.
The position is with their design and development department. I’d be working with the team that refurbishes and redesigns the hotels they acquire—for the European market. Historic properties in some cases. Visions of charm and period details danced in my head. I almost clicked my heels together as I spoke with the human resources representative.
I spent the rest of the day feeling like I had the best secret in the world. One I couldn’t wait to share with Jennings, but there were too many people around. After dinner, I thought. I’d tell him after dinner. He’d be excited. I’d be in London—next week! I could see him again—next week! And if I get the job, I’d be able to see him all the time!
But I never got the chance to tell him any of that.
It’s funny how feelings can go from solid to cracked in the matter of an instant. I was in. All in. Totally in on the idea of picking up and moving to London. For Jennings, but for me too. It’s something I’ve always dreamed about, living overseas.
The interview is scheduled for Monday. If I even bother to go, that is. I should go. They’re paying for my flight and two nights in a hotel. It’d be my first trip to London. Not much time to do more than interview, try fish and chips and purchase a souvenir magnet at the airport. But the idea of it is sort of tainted now. Not quite how I’d imagined it. Would going be wasting their time? I’m not a time-waster. And I’m not a hundred percent certain I could take the job if it was offered.
Also, I have another option. I have an interview on Friday with a local company. It’s a good fit for me. A great commute. Well, since I don’t have a home at the moment I suppose the commute is irrelevant. But the job is about a half hour from Daisy’s place. The pay is great—about ten percent more than I was making before, plus a bonus structure. I could be back on my feet pretty quickly with this job—and back in my own place.
Two weeks ago I’d have been jumping for joy about the possibility of this job. It’s a good fit. Everything I was looking for. A good move, career-wise. A safe choice.
But now? Now I want more. I want an adventure. I want to push myself, take a chance. Spread my wings further than a thirty-mile radius of where I was born. But can I? Without love as an added incentive?
Do I have the guts to move overseas by myself? It’s insane. A totally insane idea. It’s a Daisy kind of idea, I think with a smile. I pick up my phone to call her, but as I’m thumbing through my contacts to dial, the phone rings. It’s her.
“I was just about to call you,” I say by way of hello.
“Twin win!” she replies. “Beat you to it.”
“You did. By about three seconds.”
“Are you home yet?”
“Yup. Sitting on your couch and drinking your soda.”
“Good. Rest of the tour go okay? You survived? You don’t hate me for making you go?”
“I survived. It was possibly even good for me.”
“Was that hard for you to admit?”
“A little bit. What about you? What’s going on with your frenemy?”
“Why, what did you hear?”
“What would I have heard?” I make a face even though she’s not there to see it. “Was Mom supposed to update me on your sex life?”
“Haha. No, I guess not. What about your British lover? Did you elope? I won’t be mad if you did. Just throwing that out there. Random FYI.”
“Err, no. We definitely did not elope.” I try to sound breezy when I say it, but I fail. Miserably.
“That sounds foreboding. What happened?”
I take a deep breath and bring her up to speed.