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“Sally!”
“What, darlin’?” he retorts on a wicked grin. “We gotta know.”
Oh boy. I really don’t want to be here for this.
Dr. Samson starts to open his mouth, but I quickly cut him off.
“Uh…you know what? I’m going to walk out of the exam room while you guys have this conversation.”
“Of course,” Dr. Samson responds with a smile, his expression a mix of understanding and amusement.
“Don’t be silly, Carly,” my mother tries to refute. “Sex is a normal—”
I shake my head on an exasperated laugh. “Mom, I’ll be waiting out there for you.”
Two seconds later, I’m clicking the exam room door shut behind me, and my mind instantly focuses on trying to find Ryan.
Everything feels a bit messy and weird and uncomfortable and confusing right now, but I just really want to talk to him. Be near him. I don’t know. I guess I just wish we could try to figure this whole crazy thing out.
I find him in the waiting room, his phone pressed to his ear, his gaze looking out the front windows, and his back facing toward me and the inside of the office.
Quietly, so I don’t disturb him, I close the distance between us.
But my progress is instantly halted when I get within hearing distance of his phone conversation.
“Yeah, I need a one-way flight back to New York.”
My heart feels like it drops inside my shoes.
We just found out that our parents no longer need our assistance, and not even ten minutes later, he’s already booking a flight back to New York?
Maybe he’s just trying to make sure he has all his ducks in a row?
Ryan is a very type A, organized kind of person. Surely he’s just making sure he can get a flight on whatever future date he’s wanting…
“No, I have to get out of here ASAP,” he says into the receiver. “Tomorrow, actually. And the earlier, the better.”
I have to get out of here ASAP.
Tomorrow.
The earlier, the better.
Those don’t sound like the words someone who’s just trying to get organized would say. They sound like the words of someone who’s trying to get the hell out of Dodge.
I was hoping we were going to have an actual conversation about everything.
About us.
But apparently, I’m the only one hoping anything about us.
Ryan, on the other hand, is thinking about getting the hell away from us.
To say it hurts like a motherfucker would be an understatement.
And it makes me certain of my next move. I’d planned on asking Brody to hold down the fort for a few more days, but it’s safe to say I should head back to Vail…ASAP.
Obviously, I’m going to have to be back here in a damn month, but I’m choosing not to think about that right now.
All avoidance coping mechanisms climb aboard! It’s full steam ahead!
Ryan
Once I get off the phone with Delta Airlines, I call Thomas, my boss, back.
He answers on the first ring, completely avoiding pleasantries.
“Tell me you got a flight tomorrow.”
Twenty minutes ago, when I was standing inside the exam room with Sal and Stella and Carly, listening to Dr. Samson give us the lowdown on the fact that he’s clearing them of all activity restrictions and feels they no longer need the additional help Carly and I have been providing, I received an unexpected call from my boss.
Normally, I keep my ringer on vibrate, but it’s probably for the best this time I had forgotten because he was real fucking worked up over one of our most important accounts.
“I did,” I answer and run a hand through my hair. “But the earliest flight I could get was ten a.m.”
“Shit,” he mutters. “The Dolan team wanted an earlier meeting.”
“I’ll get Kelly to give them a call and explain the situation. I’m sure they’ll be willing to meet a little later tomorrow.”
“I hope you’re right,” he mutters.
Apparently, one of our biggest competitors is trying to snag the Dolan account, and since we were in the process of renegotiating their contract, it’s left us in a bit of a sticky situation.
This account is important, it’s one we’ve had for years, and there’s no fucking way I’m going to lose them. They generate too much money for us.
“It’ll all work out.” I try to reassure him, even though I’m not certain. “I’ll make sure we don’t lose the Dolan account.”
“You willing to bet your job on it?” he asks, and I know Thomas well enough to understand this is just his way of coping with stress. He tries to volley it other people’s ways like it will somehow bring him relief.
“You couldn’t afford to lose me,” I retort, and he chuckles. “But if it will make you feel better, we can move forward under the guise that you have the option to fire me if we lose them.”
“Don’t tempt me, Miller,” he snaps back, but his voice is laced with more amusement than stress. “I’m sure I can find another VP to take your place.”
