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As I look into her eyes in the photograph, I wonder what changes the years have wrought in her. I wonder who she is today, compared to who she was back then. I hope life hasn't beaten that fire and spirit out of her. I hope she's every bit as fierce today as she was back then. The fact that Lara came away from her as impressed as she is gives me some measure of hope.
I have to wonder what happened to her though, and why she's trying to land what really is a menial job. I eventually learned that yeah, she did come from a little bit of money, but she was by no means in the same tax brackets as most of Rodham's student body. She wasn't the spoiled rich girl most of the girls at Rodham were.
But something must have happened to have stripped her of even that small cushion of wealth she had. Something terrible, given the fact that the woman who once dreamed of being a lawyer is trying to land a job as a personal assistant – a secretary, essentially.
Knowing that she didn't achieve her goal and fulfill her dream saddens me. And it makes me all the more curious. I have to wonder if her sudden disappearance from school is why she's here now, trying to land a menial secretarial gig.
I'm determined to get the answers to those questions as well as see for myself, what changes the years have brought for Emily Hall. I don't even need to read through the vitals of the two candidates or review Lara's carefully prepared notes on them both. My mind is already made up.
I open up my email program on the tablet and fire off a quick note to Lara, instructing her to hire Emily.
Chapter Seven
Emily
The music is playing loud and I'm dancing around the kitchen, feeling good. The air is redolent with the aroma of garlic and seasonings as I cook up a storm. I haven't cooked in a while, so breaking everything out and whipping together a homemade dinner feels nice. I'm feeling so good, I'm even able to put that creepy, stalking asshole out of my head for a while.
I throw the cooked pasta into the pan, then pour the sauce over it and stir it all together as I sing along with Adele. After dishing some salad out into bowls and pouring the wine, I carry it all over and set it down on the dining room table.
The front door opens, and my best friend Olivia Lopez comes in, giving me a wide smile. Closing the door behind her, she crosses the room and pulls me into a tight hug.
“Sit, sit,” I say. “Have some wine.”
Olivia drapes her sweater over the back of the chair and sits down as I dance back into the kitchen and serve up the pasta. Pulling a couple of pieces of garlic bread out of the oven, I set them on the plates, then dance back out to the dining room. She laughs as I set her plate down in front of her, then spin back over to my chair and take a seat.
“This smells delicious,” she grins.
“Let's hope it tastes good. It's been a while since I've done any serious cooking.”
She laughs and we both dig into our meals. I have to admit, it's pretty good – kudos to me. I've always enjoyed cooking. It's kind of meditative to me. Plus, I've always enjoyed making people happy, and food is a universal way to do just that.
Olivia tells me about her day as we eat and drink, sharing a lot of laughs. She's a doctor at one of LA's biggest hospitals and always has fascinating – and cringe-worthy – stories to share. She and I were fast friends back in grade school. We were inseparable throughout our younger years and remain best friends to this day.
I was worried about the toll it would take on our friendship when I left for New York to go to school. She didn't understand why I wanted to go all the way to the east coast for school when California has plenty of great schools.
I went to New York because I'd never been out of California before. At least, not for any extended period of time. I was born and grew up in LA – all in the same house. And because of that, I saw all the same people for my entire life. I lived near them, went to high school with them, and nothing ever changed. For years, I felt like I was stagnating, and I really needed some new surroundings. I need to be exposed to new people, new ideas, and a new way of life.
Part of me expected that I'd never come back to LA, that I'd carve out a life for myself out in New York and wind up living there. I had it all set up. I graduated from college, even took a couple years off to travel, and was attending law school with the intent to follow in my father’s footsteps as an attorney. But when he committed suicide and I had to deal with the shitstorm that followed it, I had no choice but to come back. Going back to New York and finishing out my schooling wasn't an option. I just couldn't afford it.
After realizing I was stuck here with no money and very little to my name, I did the only thing I could do – I found a job. I'm grateful that I still have this condo. I don't have to pay rent on it and I'm working to pay my bills. Unfortunately, the jobs I've found haven't paid much more than I need to get by. Things are tighter for me than they've ever been. Before, I never had to worry about living hand to mouth or having to juggle this bill to pay that bill. Now, that’s just how I live.
But at least I have a place to lay my head at night, I make enough to fill my belly and keep the lights on. That's something.
Despite the fact that I left for New York and am living in vastly different circumstances now than I grew up in, my friendship with Olivia hasn't changed one bit. That's the thing I'm most grateful for. She's my rock, and the one whose shoulder I cry on when things get too frustrating or overwhelming.
Olivia's love for me has never wavered. We're as close now as we were as kids. Maybe even closer, and I'm forever thankful to her for not walking away from me when I left.
She's married now and has a young son, so her time isn't as bountiful as it used to be. When we were younger, we'd been attached at the hip. You’d never see me without her and vice versa. But she's got grown-up responsibilities now and a family of her own, so we don't get to see each other as often as I'd like. But we make the time we do get together count. And she's the first person I want to share the news I've been holding in all night with.
“So, what are we celebrating tonight anyway?” she asks.
I finish clearing the table and putting all of the dishes in the sink and return to the table, sitting down and pouring us both another glass of wine.
“I need to cut myself off after this,” she laughs. “I have to drive home after this.”
I take a drink and sit back in my seat. I know that my news isn't anything compared to what she does – I'm not out there saving lives like her. But still, I'm pretty excited by my news, since it can potentially put me back on the path I want to be on.
“So?” she prompts me. “Not that I need a reason to come enjoy a fantastic meal with my best friend on the planet, but you sounded pretty excited about something.”
