She leans back in her chair and regards me with speculation in her eyes. “Where do you see yourself in say, ten years? Here at Gilt? Doing what?”
“I’d want to be an editor at the Gilt Review,” I reply. “Maybe editor in chief.”
She smiles. “I thought you might say that. The thing is Rachel. By the time you get to editor in chief, it won’t matter which magazine you’re working at. You want to work at a literary magazine now, so you’re leaving Travel, but soon, you’ll be in a managerial position and the only thing that will matter will be to put out content, sell more magazines and make a profit, whether you’re here or at the Review.”
I’m not entirely sure she’s right, and even if she is, I’ve wanted this for too long to give it up because of what she thinks. My eyes slip to the pile of magazines on her desk. “When you joined Gilt, which magazine did you want?”
Jessica laughs. “I would have killed to work at Gilt Style. I came in for an interview with my hair perfect, my nails freshly manicured, and somehow they thought I was more suited to making coffee for Tim Bly, he was editor here at the time.” She pauses. “You know Gertrude Weyland is taking over at Review, do you?”
I shrug. “I heard.”
“I would ask you to wait and see how well she does before throwing in your lot with her, but of course, we know she’ll probably do great.” She purses her lips. “Mark is leaving soon. You could be a senior editor here before the year runs out. Would you choose that over Review?”
I think about it, and in my mind, I see myself editing travel articles from celebrity writers, thinking up filler pieces and sending features writers off to write promotional articles. I don’t want that, but I haven’t even gotten the offer from Review yet, and I feel a moment of panic. What if I tell Jessica I don’t want Mark’s job, and the offer from Gilt Review never materializes?
I shake my head, deciding to trust my heart.
“Very well,” Jessica says, putting her glasses back on. “You can go.”
I wonder what she’ll do. I don’t want to underestimate her power within the Gilt family. Could she make it impossible for me to move from Gilt Travel and somehow take away my chance to go to the Review? I have no idea what to expect.
I get up, about to leave, then I stop and face her. “Did you know why Landon Court wanted me to go to San Francisco with him?”
She looks at me from above her glasses, her expression placid. “He never said he wanted you, particularly.”
“Of course not,” I reply. What had I been thinking? That I would point out that she’d knowingly thrown me into Landon’s arms, and she would feel some remorse, and maybe not stand in the way of the job I wanted really badly? She probably thought she’d done me a favor.
I start to walk away, but her voice stops me. “He did seem very interested in you,” she says. “I knew his parents, and met him when he was a boy. Apart from a few words at social events, we’d never actually spoken. Suddenly he was offering me an exclusive, and talking about how he’d read your articles. So yes, I could read him from a mile away. There were no conditions, but I was interested. I may be old, but I’m not blind.”
“So you decided to send me…to satisfy your curiosity?”
She snorts. “You’re overthinking it. I sent you on an official assignment, where you were allowed to conduct yourself in your free time, any way you pleased. So what if Landon Court was attracted to you? That shouldn’t have stopped you from being professional, and then if you decided to go the other way and have an adventure. It doesn’t make you less of who you are.” She frowns at me. “Is that why you want to leave? Because you think I put you in a bad position?
I shake my head. “That’s not why I’m leaving.”
She sighs. “Because that would be ridiculous. Everyone sometimes has to work with people who find them attractive. It’s how you handle it that matters.”
How had I handled it? I think of Landon, this morning, his hands on my body, his mouth… I sigh, making an effort to come back to the present.
Jessica is still looking at me, her eyes speculating. She adjusts her glasses. “I hope you’ll like it over at Review. I hope you can take advantage of the many opportunities for a young woman like yourself to rise to the top at Gilt.” She looks down at the open page on her desk. “You can leave now.”
BACK in my office, the first email I read on my computer is the offer from the Gilt Review. It’s slightly more generous than my current arrangement at Gilt Travel and I quickly call Liz Buckley to accept. Just as we finish the phone call, my door opens and Chelsea comes into my office.
“You won’t believe what I just heard,” she exclaims. “Jack Weyland is leaving Gilt.”
So he was really leaving. I’m surprised and pleased by how little the knowledge affects me. “Yeah, I know.”
Chelsea gives me a look. “How come? Everyone else is just finding out.”
“He told me last week,” I say. “Stalked me on my way to lunch.”
“Awww.” She pauses. “I saw him hurrying out after you that night at Insomnia. What happened?”
“He was being a total asshole about Landon,” I grimace. “He said he loves me,” I roll my eyes. “Imagine that.”
“I thought it might be something like that,” she mutters. “Men are crazy. First they want you, then they don’t, then as soon as it seems like they can’t get you, they just can’t let you go.”
I arch a brow at her. “Wanna tell me about it? Is it the hot neighbor?”