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“I’ll see what I can do.”
“What does that mean? I need to tell everyone when you’re going to be back here. Things are in a very precarious—”
“When I’ve got plane tickets, I’ll let you know when to expect me back in the office. Right now, I need to go into my job and be the asshole who’s going to leave them in the lurch.”
I end the call. Fernwood would prefer I invent a time machine and get myself there yesterday, and I acted all nonchalant about getting there when I get there, but I’m actually antsy about losing this opportunity. Obviously, I should have just stayed in New York.
Then I wouldn’t be in the position of letting down my new boss, Gloria, my sisters, and the man I love.
I drop my head back against the headrest. Shit, when did that happen? When did I fall in love with Noah?
I’m supposed to have a firm grip on my emotions. I walked into this deal with him knowing exactly how it would end. How the hell have I been stupid enough to let my heart get involved? And how in the world am I going to walk away from him?
I shove open my car door and head inside to face up to my wrongs.
Joy looks up as soon as I knock on her open door. There are bags under her eyes and a weariness to her I haven’t seen before. “Yes?” she says curtly.
“Rough day?” I’m assuming she’s pissed at me about Cynthia, but I’m hoping I’m wrong.
“Rough night,” she says, sighing. “A fourteen-year-old who thought she was going to sneak out to a party on a school night.”
“Ooof. I’m sorry.”
She waves a hand. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I spent half the night trying to explain to her why she can’t go to a party on a school night and the other half up worrying about her and what I’m going to do to keep her safe.”
“I can’t imagine. But I meant I’m sorry because I’m going to make your day worse.”
Her eyes snap open wider. “You’re quitting?”
I nod. “I got an opportunity I can’t pass on.”
“Wait, you’re serious? You’re quitting?”
“Tenth Avenue Books wants me back. They’re giving me the promotion I wanted. It’s my dream. I really wanted to be here for you until you find someone to fill my position, but I can’t miss this opportunity.”
She slumps in her seat. “I get it. I don’t like it, but I understand. You have to follow your dreams.”
My eyes burn with unexpected tears, and my throat tightens. “You understand? You don’t want to yell at me for trying to steal one of your authors and then quitting after you were kind enough not to fire me?”
“No. I know a thing or two about following a dream.” She grabs a tissue from the box on her desk and holds it out to me. “If you’re getting your dream, why are you crying?”
I take the tissue and press it to my damp cheeks. “They want me back in New York today. I can’t even give you two weeks’ notice.”
“And the hits just keep coming,” she mutters. “It’s not ideal, but you have to do what you have to do.”
I bow my head, and the sobs overwhelm me. “I’m sorry,” I sputter. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Sit down.” She’s suddenly by my side, one arm around my shoulders and guiding me to a chair. “Will it make you feel better if I yell at you and tell you to get out and never come back?”
For some reason, that makes me cry harder. I’m a total freaking mess.
She rubs my back in comforting circles, and I eventually get a hold of myself.
I blow my nose and dry my eyes. “I’m really sorry.”
She sits back down behind her desk. “I accept your apology. Now, why are you crying when you’re getting everything you ever wanted?”
“Because I’m not sure I want it anymore?” It sounds like a question, but it feels like the truest thing I’ve said in a very long time. “I love working here and everyone’s so nice. I’m just really going to miss you.”
