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“There’s still—”
“Leave, Alicia. I mean it.”
“I’ll be gone by four thirty,” she tells me.
I smile. “Okay. Have a good weekend.”
“You too, Mr. Kensington.” No matter how many times I tell Alicia to dispatch with the formalities, she still insists on calling me Mr. Kensington.
The final passengers are finally boarding the plane. The overhead loudspeaker crackles to life, starting the pre-flight announcements. Marie shifts back into her seat, flashing me a bright smile.
I begin to wonder how much I’ll regret going on this trip.
CHAPTERFOUR
HANNAH
Ishut my laptop and lean back. Rosie arranged for us to get manicures while I was visiting her in Chicago. My pink-tipped fingers run across the smooth surface of the laptop, the shiny silver a sharp contrast to the dark wood of the hotel desk and the rose nail polish.
An exhale leaves me in a disbelieving huff.
Honestly, I never thought I would do it.
For months—years—I’ve been telling myself I would.
But it’s not until this exact second, when Idid, that I realize I truly believed I wouldn’t.
That realization chips away at some of the excitement and anxiety. I feel hollow, knowing I’ve sent this dream out into the world and it will probably get rejected.
I had the possibility; the Icoulddo this.
Now, it’ll be Icando this. Or more likely, Ican’tdo this.
I blame Vegas for this impulsive decision. After returning from my meeting with Robert Damon, I felt restless. I was more optimistic with Rachel on the phone than my true mood was.
Being at my father’s beck and call wouldn’t bother me as much, if this was the job I really wanted. But there’s nothing worse than working toward something you’re indifferent to. And maybe I’ll feel differently, after knowing whether or not this alternate path is a possibility. At least I’ll have tried, and that’s more than I’ve been able to say before.
My plan for the evening was to lounge around my hotel room, order room service, and possibly break into the overpriced minibar. But there’s a new thrill humming beneath my skin. The energy of new possibilities, which my life has been lacking lately.
Architecture school has been an abstract dream of mine since undergrad. For months, I’ve had the forms filled out and ready, but I’ve never clickedSubmit. Until tonight. And the woman who finally took that step wouldn’t be spending a night in Vegas lounging in her hotel room.
I stand and stretch, glancing down at my phone next to my laptop. I have this giddy urge to tell someone what I just did.
But there’s no one to call—not really. Rachel would be supportive but shocked. She, like everyone else in my life, thinks architecture was a passing phase in college. That I studied it because I always knew I’d have a place waiting for me at Garner Sports Agency no matter what I majored in. I know Rosie is going to a play with her boyfriend Jude tonight. I don’t want to put my mom in the position of keeping this from my dad, and I don’t want him to know yet. Maybe ever.
Beyond those three people, I come up blank.
I have lots of friends.
They just aren’t the ones you call with life-altering news.
I abandon my phone and sort through the contents of my suitcase, deciding I’ll at least go down to the hotel bar for a drink. Celebrate myself. If this is as far as this possibility ever goes, I’ll know I did something.
None of what I packed is what I would have chosen to bring to Vegas, because I didn’t know Iwascoming to Vegas.
Rosie warned me Chicago would be cold, and she was downplaying it, honestly. A bulky sweater and jeans were great for walking around Millennium Park. Not so great for a fancy hotel.
I end up slipping into the one dress I brought—a navy, sheath style that clings to my curves but isn’t impossible to breathe in. After accessorizing the outfit with heels and a swipe of lipstick I grab my phone and room key, then take an elevator downstairs.
