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Back in Holiday Cove, things between Holly and me had been so easy and effortless, and it made it easy for us to get to know each other. It had felt like there weren’t enough hours in the day to say all the things we had to say to one another. I hated to think that now that we were an ocean and thousands of miles apart, those easy, free-flowing conversations had come to an end. Especially since what was left in their place were stilted, awkward, and forced moments that put an even darker shadow over an already dark situation.
“Listen, I gotta get going. I have a briefing to get to. I’ll try to call again later tonight.” I paused, hating the silence on the other end, knowing that I was hurting her by leaving so abruptly. “Okay, Holly?”
“Yeah. Okay. I—uh—take care, okay?”
“I will.”
I clicked out of the call, closed the program, and shut down the computer in a hasty sequence. My worries and doubts flooded over me and swirled around the empty room that was suddenly too quiet. I’d never been one to believe in fate or fairy tales or perfect love stories. I’d always thought romantic movies were just make believe. But after meeting Holly, my thinking had changed.
The last night we’d spent together could have been ripped right out of a chick flick. For a time, I’d been thinking that maybe we were on the brink of finding that once-in-a-lifetime, forever love that would lead to our own happily ever after. My doubts and trust issues had never reared their heads even when Holly’s had.
I’d been the strong and confident anchor. Unchanging. Stabilizing. But as I sat in the aftermath of our call, I realized that we appeared to have switched roles. Holly was the one trying to put on a brave face and I was just trying to keep my shit together.
All I knew, as I left the stateroom to go to my briefing, was that if I didn’t figure it out soon—I was going to lose her—forever.
25
Holly
By Saturday afternoon, my lack of focus at work had finally caught up with me to the point where I was forced to spend the whole weekend locked inside my office. Hunter had come with me and was snoozing on the couch in the corner.
Unfortunately, my mind was still with Jack and the incredibly awkward conversation from the day before. Although I’d run through the conversation in my mind at least a dozen times, I still couldn’t figure out where things had gone wrong. What had started as a flirtatious erotic conversation had so quickly plummeted into what felt like the beginning of the end—my head was still spinning.
My escape into work had been the last resort to get my mind off of it, but as I stared at the computer screen loaded with spreadsheets and numbers, nothing was absorbing into my brain.
I put in my headphones, cranked up some music, and attempted to get back into a productive zone, but the figures in front of me began to melt into a blur as my eyes glazed over. Hunter stirred, his paws raking across the cushions, as he stretched out, and I smiled as I watched him settle back into sleep, mesmerized by the rise and fall of his little puppy belly. I wondered if I should wake him and go for a short walk around the block. On the surface, it appeared to be a logical thought, but I knew myself well enough to know that it was just a stalling tactic.
“Come on Holly, you’re not in high school anymore. This is the big leagues,” I reminded myself, forcing my attention back to my computer.
One of my biggest fears, when I’d opened my accounting business, was that I wouldn’t be able to handle all the pressure that would rest solely on my shoulders. I no longer had a team of coworkers and other CPAs that would be able to jump in to help if things got crazy. Instead, I’d traded structure and a guaranteed paycheck for the freedom of owning my own business.
So far, it had been one of the best decisions I’d ever made. But, as I struggled to get into the groove, I realized the one downfall I hadn’t thought about was what would happen during a personal crisis.
I didn’t have anyone who’d be able to throw me a lifeline. If I didn’t get through the workload, instead of an angry boss, and maybe a slap on the wrist to deal with, I’d have a horde of angry clients demanding money back for the services they’d paid me to do.
I just had to pull up my big girl panties and get the job done.
After a much needed pep talk, I managed to get through half of my inbox and the printer was humming away to spit out an assortment of pages that needed to be signed and sent over to a client in regards to a 401(k).
