Admittedly, it does sound simple enough. Four grand per week is peanuts to a company like Susanne. If Braden were here, he’d tell me to jump on that wagon and never look back.
But Braden’s not here.
Eugenie is giving me a shot—a shot I should welcome. I may fail, but it’s not set in stone. It’s only a given if I don’t try.
“Skye? You still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“You have to know we took this into consideration before we offered you the deal. Braden Black has never been in a serious relationship that anyone’s aware of, so of course your breakup was a possibility that we considered.”
“And still you chose to work with me?” Damn. That inflection again.
“We did. You’re the ideal face for this new line. You’re beautiful, but you’re also approachable. You’re the perfect Susie Girl. Plus, your photos are wonderful. You’re quite a talent, Skye.”
I warm all over. Ha! Who needs Braden Black?
I scoff silently. I do. I need him. I need my puppy. I need…
Another silent scoff. Such self-indulgence. He’s gone, and I still have a contract. Eugenie is giving me a chance, and I need to take it and run.
“You still want me to come to New York, then?” Damn! Stop it with the inflection already!
“Of course. Shaylie is already putting together a presentation, and our design team is fleshing out the color. I’ll get you booked on a flight tonight. Will that work for you?”
“Yeah, that will be great. Thank you, Eugenie.”
“You’re very welcome. I’ll take care of your flights and I’ll email you the details as soon as we get everything scheduled.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
After ending the call, I walk to the bathroom and gaze at my reflection. Bedhead. Such bedhead. And still, Susanne wants me. Is it because they’re stuck with me for four months under the contract? Or is it because they truly want me?
And a light shines in me.
Because it doesn’t matter. The answer to that question doesn’t matter, because the result is the same.
I have four months to prove myself. Four months to become the best influencer out there. To take photographs. To show the world my art. To show the world who I am.
I’ll do it, damn it.
And while I’m doing it, maybe I’ll show myself.
…
No private jet this time, but Eugenie booked me in first class. The larger seats are nice, and the flight attendants are obsequious. I actually get offered a drink before we even take off. Seems silly, as I’ll have all of ten minutes to drink it before I have to give it back, so I decline.
After the short flight, I grab my luggage at baggage claim and spy a driver dressed in black, holding a sign that says Manning.
I approach him. “I’m Skye Manning.”
“Good evening, Ms. Manning. I’ll be driving you to your hotel.”
My hotel. The Marriott Marquis in Times Square. Funny. I’ve been to New York twice now, and I haven’t done any of the tourist things. No Empire State Building. No Ground Zero. No Statue of Liberty. No Met. No buying a hot dog from a street vendor.
I won’t have time for any of that this time around, either, as I’ll be meeting with Eugenie tomorrow and then flying home to Kansas the next day, which is Sunday.
Oh, well.
My driver drops me off and hands my bag to me. Do I tip him? I have no idea. I don’t have any cash on me anyway, so it’s a moot point. I simply thank him profusely, hope Eugenie’s assistant added a generous tip, and then I make a mental note never to travel without stopping at the ATM first.
It’s already dark outside, and I’m tired. One good thing about this spur of the moment trip to New York, I haven’t had a lot of time to ruminate on Braden and how things went so terribly wrong.
Once I’m in my room, though, the thoughts come roaring in like a tidal wave. He invades me, and I know I’ll never be free of him.
Why?
Because I don’t want to be free of him.
I love him.
What’s more? He loves me. He admits it. How do you give up someone you love who loves you back?
Clearly, it’s easier for him than it is for me.
But is it?
I sigh.
I don’t know. He hides so many of his emotions. I honestly don’t know what he’s feeling about our breakup.
What I do know, though, is that Braden is a doer. He translates thoughts into action, so maybe that’s what I need to do as well.
Tomorrow, I’ll wow Eugenie and her team, make them realize they’re right to take a chance on me.
Then, on Sunday, I’ll go home. Back to where it all began for me.
And somehow, I’ll find the answer to Braden’s question.
Chapter Six
The same driver who picked me up from the airport drives me to Susanne Corporate. I’m dressed to the nines—in clothes I purchased myself this time. As I packed yesterday, I yearned for Tessa’s input. I couldn’t wear the same thing I wore at the last meeting with Eugenie and her staff, so I had to make do. I finally decided on simple black pants and pumps with a burgundy silk top that shows a tiny amount of cleavage. My makeup is pure Susie Girl of course, including the mood lip plumper I considered using for a previous post.