I met this guy and he was telling me about a fantastic opportunity.
His list of seemingly unrelated professional pursuits was long—ad man, radio disc jockey, plumber. It drove Mom nuts, and understandably so, but she never even tried to exercise some patience. Never. That created tension, which only fed the feeling in our house that things were unsettled. Everything wasn’t fine, even when they insisted it was. On some level, it made us feel like we couldn’t truly count on either of them. Yes, there had always been food on the table and clothes on our backs, but kids see grown-ups as the barometer of familial peace. When there’s open dissension, that means there’s a storm brewing. In our case, Amy and I were in the calm of the eye.
Thankfully, Amy and I were nothing like Dad when it came to our careers. We'd both managed to find our calling. She was a natural lawyer, able to argue for hours, running on nothing more than a Coke Zero and a handful of almonds. For me, I couldn't imagine doing anything other than being a color analyst, a job I was quite literally born to do.
“Hey, Katherine, can I get your help?” My boss, Summer Kimble, called out as I walked past her office, a few doors down from mine. It was after six, and everyone else had gone home for the day.
“Two secs.”
Much of my day was popping into other people's offices and meetings to put out fires. I was known as the secret weapon. An art teacher discovered my quirky eyesight in high school, and with the help of her geneticist father, they reached the conclusion that I was a tetrachromat. It wasn't easy to explain, I only knew one way of seeing, but it helped me find the perfect career. During my first few weeks at NACI, it'd been a little embarrassing to be singled out for my vision, but over time, I came to appreciate how special it made me feel. Before I landed the job, I'd never felt singled out in a good way, aside from the few months I'd spent in Ireland—the only time I'd thought that maybe my parents' history had given me the wrong ideas about love.
Summer waved me into her office. “I just got the print samples for the Anthem Apparel catalog.” She pushed her thick glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. “These don't look right. I don't know what happened.”
I took survey of the trim, stylish women dressed in astronomically priced clothing. The catalog covers were indeed ghastly. These would not sell clothes—they'd end up straight in the recycling bin. “This isn't the paper stock they normally use.” I flipped one of the samples to the blank side. “It has an ivory cast to it.”
She held the paper up to the light. “Looks pure white to me.”
Of course it did. She saw it as a solid field. I saw it as a mosaic of shades, and as anyone who's been to a paint store can attest, there are countless ways to convey colors. “It isn't. I’ll call the printer in the morning to double-check. I can go down there if necessary.”
“Thank you so much. Now I'll be able to sleep tonight.” Summer sat back in her chair. She was a great boss. She never failed to express her appreciation. “Well, a little. Miles Ashby arrives tomorrow. Lord knows how that will go.”
Miles Ashby was a hotshot from our UK office. He was coming to work out of the New York office for an unspecified amount of time. It was supposed to mean bigger clients and bigger accounts, but it was hard not to feel as though he was being sent to whip us all into shape. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’ll be blown away by how awesome we all are.” I was sure of nothing of the sort.
“That’s the spirit.” Summer collected the papers on her desk. “Headed home?”
“Meeting my sister, actually. She has some big surprise planned.” I'd been suspecting that tonight was a pity date, that Amy had noticed the way I got anxious every time she brought up the wedding. The truth was that things were happening very quickly. I'd assumed they'd tie the knot in a year, like normal people, but they wanted to do it in December. That was in two months. It was like they were dying to get married.
Plus, she kept dismissing my opinion of the bridesmaids' dresses, when all I'd done was point out that it wasn't fair she wanted to squash my already limited bust line into a strapless gown.
“Big surprise on a Wednesday?” Summer asked.
“There's some new Spanish place she's been raving about. Hopefully that's where we're going. I'm starving.”
“Have fun.”
I grabbed my purse and coat from my office, and ducked into the ladies room for a make-up refresh. There was no telling if I was dressed correctly. Amy had said to wear something cute, but as to what that meant, I wasn't sure, so I'd gone with a black turtleneck and pencil skirt, hair back in a ponytail, and my favorite knee-high boots. I'd describe it as ‘quirky professor cute’.
I met Amy in front of the diner, our usual meeting spot since it was equidistant between our offices. “What's the plan?”
“You are going to love me after tonight.” She clapped her hands together and grinned like she was up to no good. It was weird. It wasn't like Amy to be coy.
“I already love you.”This must be some pretty amazing paella.“And was I supposed to wear heels? Is that what you meant by cute?”
“Remember how I told you that my firm was expanding our entertainment division to include music law?”
What exactly did this have to do with eating? Or with what she was wearing? “Can we talk about this over dinner?”
“No. Shut up. I'm trying to tell you the surprise. I'm taking you to see someone you know. Someone famous.”
“I don’t know anyone famous.”
“Yes, you do. Eamon MacWard.” She then said something about one of the attorneys in her office and tickets, but I was stuck on his name. "The show is sold out. People are scalping tickets for ridiculous amounts of money." She took my hand and led me to the street corner like I was a kid in need of a chaperone. “We're in the VIP section. Fifth row. And we have backstage passes.”
The light changed. The walk signal turned. Everyone around us proceeded to cross, including Amy. My feet, however, were stuck to the pavement.
She yanked my arm, then rounded back. “Katherine, come on.”
A man bumped into us. “Watch where you're standing.”
