Chapter 1
Jolie Park sighed when she looked up over her book and saw a group of four twenty-somethings hurling themselves into the swimming pool. They made a loud splash with each awkward cannonball and the rest of them cheered, laughed and clapped their hands. They were beginning to test her patience
Jolie was a twenty-something herself; 25 to be precise, but she looked down at the group, from her sharp nose and clucked her tongue. This was supposed to be a peaceful resort, this was supposed to be her vacation; and now she had splashes of water dampening the edge of her book.
Gritting her teeth with annoyance, Jolie slapped her book shut and dropped it to her side. When she reached her hand for the glass of frozen margarita, which she had long since forgotten about; she realized that the drink had melted and now it wouldn’t taste the same.
She took a sip anyway, and allowed the drink to travel down her throat. It settled somewhere in the bottom of her stomach and cooled the back of her neck. The Florida weather didn’t suit her, she thought. Tans and bright sunshine were over-rated. She couldn’t wait to go back to New York. Anywhere on the East Coast in fact, where people layered their clothes and didn’t do cartwheels in the sand for fun.
But she couldn’t return, not yet. Her boss had made it very clear to her that this forced vacation was a matter of life and death.
“When was the last time you took a day off, Jolie?” Margaret had asked, slipping her custom made Chopard glasses off the bridge of her nose. Jolie had shrugged her shoulders and looked away. She didn’t need a vacation, what good had one ever done to anybody? Instead, there was the latest issue of Dot that they needed to get to the printers in less than seven days and they hadn’t even decided on the middle page’s layout yet.
“I don’t need a vacation, Margaret. I need you to approve the photograph for the front cover,” she had replied, folding her arms over her chest.
Margaret had sighed and made a few clicks on her computer, before turning her own tired eyes towards Jolie.
“I’m booking you tickets to the Florida Keys. One week, fully paid and you’re getting on the flight tonight,” she said and Jolie crossed her brows and shook her head.
One week! Seven days? She hadn’t spent more than a few waking hours away from her office desk in the past three years. It’s how she had made it this far at this age. The magazine was the start and end of her entire life’s work and worth.
“We haven’t worked on the middle page’s…” Jolie began to say and Margaret had cut her short.
“Layout…I know. And, even though you’re the best at it, and your invaluable opinion will be greatly missed, Jolie, I think you seriously need this vacation,” she replied, fixing a stern gaze on her assistant editor.
Jolie gulped, feeling at a loss. She was good at following orders, and very good at executing them. It was the very reason why Margaret Aston, one of the most feared and respected fashion editors in the country had handpicked Jolie from the slush pile. She stuck her chin up in the air and tried to assert herself.
“I promise to take it easy,” she said, but she couldn’t even convince herself with that quivering voice. For the first time in three years, she felt like she was losing control.
“You fell asleep at your desk last night, Jolie. The cleaners had to come and wake you up this morning,” Margaret steepled her fingers and Jolie felt the color in her cheeks rising.
“I just lost track of time,” she tried but Margaret wasn’t having any of that.
“At least eight interns have made formal complaints about your attitude towards them. And don’t get me wrong, Jolie, you know I like a good set of choice words thrown at these incompetent sparrows,” Margaret said and sucked in a lungful of air. This was exactly why Jolie admired Margaret, they were on the same page.
“Then what is the problem?” Jolie was quick to ask and Margaret sighed again.
“You sent two of them home for the day, because their shoes were from a few seasons ago. We needed the foot soldiers for the day, Jo, that was a little extreme,” Margaret said and a more sympathetic gaze entered her eyes.
“So, you’re reprimanding me for making sure that our representatives do their job well? We are a fashion magazine, Margaret…” Jolie was on the defensive quickly and now her boss smiled at her and shook her head.
“Of course, I’m not,” she said and the two women stared at each other in silence for a few moments.
“You know, Jo, you remind me of me and I can’t help but want to grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake and some life advice. Advice I wish someone had given me when I was starting out in this business,” Margaret said and Jolie was surprised by the softness in the older lady’s voice. She couldn’t remember an instance before this that Margaret had spoken to anyone in this tone. Jolie almost felt like her heart was breaking in two.
“You need to build a life for yourself outside the magazine, outside this industry…before it is too late for you,” she said, holding Jolie’s gaze firmly. Neither of them wanted to be the first one to look away.
“You’re going and that’s final. If you refuse, you can pack your bags and clear your desk and look for a new job. And don’t expect a letter of recommendation from me,” Margaret said and perched her glasses back on her nose and turned her face away from Jolie.
Jolie gulped, licked her lips and decided that she was going to go to Florida. She was going to make this a part of her job. And maybe, there was some truth in what Margaret was saying, and seven days wasn’t a very long time at all. It would pass her by in the blink of an eye.