Chapter 18

I t even started raining. City was telling me to fuck off.

I crashed hard as soon as I got home, lying in bed and staring out the window, silently pleading the hopeless, anxious weight in my chest to go away just long enough I could sleep. I wasn't sure when I actually made it, just that I'd seen the clock saying three fifty-something, so… somewhere after that. I woke up to my alarm, and I was halfway through getting up before the weight of it hit me—I didn't have a damn job to get up for.

So I turned off the alarm, and I fell back into bed, and I pulled the blankets up higher again, willing myself to get just a little more sleep—get away from all of this for just a bit longer.

I only woke up again once Earl was pawing me, little princeling desperate for his food. I groaned, rolling out of bed, but quietly grateful for the distraction—just focusing on the cat. I could handle that. Pouring his food, shaking the bowl around a little so he couldn't see the bottom, scratching him behind the ears as he ate. Put my own food on. A mindless ritual carried me through the morning tasks, giving me some blessed relief, until I found myself pitifully at the end of them—dressed for work, my shoes on and everything. Where the hell did I think I was going?

I had to keep moving forwards. That was all I knew. If I sat in this for too long, it would eat me alive. So… I found something to do. I sat down at my computer, searched cities, job listings, apartments. The whole thing made me sick. One reason after another why it wouldn't work floated through my head like dark clouds, but I just focused on one thing at a time, one step at a time.

And frustratingly, it was her name that kept breaking through those clouds, prickling at the back of my mind.

What would she do? Was she going to be okay?

I couldn't get my mind off the question—whether she'd stick with Leon, whether she'd buy the sixty-million place. Whether she'd regret it.

Whether she'd be able to stop and ask herself if she liked herself. Whether she'd be happy.

But it wasn't my business. We'd had an agreement, and then like the universe had heard it and stepped in, I was removed from her case. Despite everything, we'd only ever been an agent and a client. And now that was over.

I'd been through this so many times, one would be forgiven for thinking I'd be used to it. There was no getting used to this uneasy quiet. That was the worst part of it all—the quiet, the emptiness, nothing to do but to sit with the noise of my own thoughts.

And noisy they were. I couldn't hear anything over the rattle of them all, and I couldn't get anything done amidst the commotion. So I ended up lying in bed at the end of the day with that churning in my stomach worse, my phone lying by my side, all the texts from Ruth ignored.

The worst part about it all was that this hell was of my own making.

It was right in the middle of it that I got a text from Cameron, plain and simple, and it made my stomach lurch.

Call me.

If she'd said anything else, I'd have denied it, talked myself around it, waffled on it until it was too late to respond. But the directness left no room for anything else. My hands shaking more than I wanted to admit, I picked up the phone, hitting call. I sat at the edge of my bed as it rang once and clicked through.

"They put me with an absolutely unbearable agent," Cameron said, before I could even get in a word. "He's just talking about how great this feature is, how great that feature is. A tacky salesperson. I'd much prefer someone who understands all of… a salesperson's work."

I was some kind of sap, because just hearing her voice felt like a balm on the burn that was everything in my head. I felt myself smiling—thin and weak, but there. "Not even a hello? "

"I'm a busy woman." She dropped the playful tone, though, her voice more serious as she went on. "Tell me they didn't dissolve the business without even the common decency to get you transferred over to the new business with my case."

"María… told me to try. Said they'd be happy to take me on. I doubt it, though."

"They will after I told the agent earlier today—in no uncertain terms—that I'd rather see London again."

I paused, my train of thought derailed. I tried to speak, but something felt hot in my throat—something I didn't recognize. I took a second to form words. "You did?"

"I told you I wasn't satisfied with his performance."

"But…"

"But what?"

I swallowed. Why my eyes were burning all of a sudden—hell if I knew. I blinked it away. "But… nothing, I guess. I just… didn't expect you to do that."

She sighed. "Have you been paying attention? I care about you, London. More than I'm supposed to, I know. So even with our… agreement… I don't intend to stand aside and just watch this happen to you."

I took a long, shaky breath. It was embarrassing, frankly, that I was reacting like this. I just… well. I wasn't used to it.

And I'd never have expected Cameron Mercier to be the one I would get it from.

"Thank you," I said, softly, just barely a breath. "I… it means a lot. But I don't think I can, anyway."

Cameron paused. "Why not?" she said, her voice stern, or—trying to. I knew her well enough by now. I knew that subtle shift in her pitch, her cadence. That subtle, quiet pleading. It broke my heart.

"Because I… it's…" I sighed, hard, frustrated, running my hand through my hair as Earl jumped up onto my lap. Absently, I pet him, just happy for something to do with my free hand. "Cameron, I am sorry. I don't want to do it either. But I really have to leave this city."

Cameron let out a short, sad little breath, and there was aching quiet down the line before she spoke in a small voice, a sad smile permeating it. "Rain finally did you in, did it?"

"Mm… I think maybe I could have learned to like it."

She laughed, short and bitter. "Dammit. Saying something that romantic, now?"

Putting the word romance to it suddenly felt so heavy, so… big. So real. And I couldn't handle it. I shook my head. "I've accumulated too much failure in this place. Nobody's going to want me after my record. I'm just… just bad luck, and everyone knows it. I need a fresh start."

"Bad luck? That's what it is? You're going to leave this city out of superstition."

"I know it's a lot. But…" I sank backwards in the bed, lying down as Earl hopped off my lap and curled up next to me. "But I don't know what else I can do."

Cameron sighed, and the weight of it felt like it would overwhelm me, drag me down, crush me. Finally, she spoke in a low voice. "You have your heart set, don't you."

A statement, not a question. It felt accusatory, damning, but what was I supposed to do, lie? "My heart doesn't want it. My good sense does."

Cameron didn't say anything. I shifted uncomfortably before I spoke.

"Are you… going to be okay? I don't want you buying something you'll regret just because they're trying to sell you on something."

She laughed lightly, but it wasn't really all there. "If I make the wrong decision, there's nothing stopping me from selling and moving somewhere else."

"I'm not worried about your financial situation. I'm worried about what's going to make you… you know, happiest."

"Ah. We're into the harder questions now."

"And everything with… er, Kevin?"

The name was a tension on an already-taut string, and I felt it hang in the air before Cameron spoke airily. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"I…" I really hope you'll be okay. I hope you'll be happy. I've been falling too fast in our time together. I'm going to miss you. "I hope it goes all right."

I could have said it all. But what would be the point? I only knew how to talk, how to connect, how to drive a conversation, when I was trying to lead it somewhere.

Without any sense of direction, I just drifted, alone, lost.

∞∞∞

The jagged, visceral pain of it all had eased up into a dull sensation on the back of my awareness the next day, and I was able to pull myself together a little and leave my apartment. It wasn't like I had anywhere to go, but I was going to lose my mind if I had to stay closed inside with just the sensation of my own failure and Earl pawing me looking for more food all the time, so I went out.

I took my laptop to a café and sat down with a bagel and a cappuccino by the window, the sky blissfully sunny as if yesterday had never happened, and I got to scroll job listings there instead. It was at least a little less overwhelming, less like it was going to swallow me up whole, but it still felt like every city I could have found, every place I could have moved to, was an empty, soulless void.

I looked up when the chair creaked opposite me, caught off-guard when it was Adam Garcia sinking down across from me, a breakfast sandwich with egg and cheese in hand, and he grinned.

"How's it going? Been a minute."

"Hey… it has." I relaxed, sitting up straighter, closing my laptop. A smile found me naturally. "It's been an exciting couple of weeks."

"I'll say." His smile disappeared. "Heard about Queen Pearl. It's a damn shame."

I glanced out the window, a heavy weight settling in my gut. "Word travels fast, huh?"

"Your friend Miguel took me out to the bar, invited me a beer. He's pretty roughed up."

I put on a smile. "I guess he had some emotional attachment after all. He's just fine with Leon, isn't he?"

He shrugged, taking a big bite out of his sandwich. "Think the guy blames himself to some extent."

"Huh." I chewed my cheek. "I guess we all do."

"That's human nature, isn't it? The self is bigger than the universe, and everything else is measured through its lens."

The guy's random turns into mysticism were always charming. "How's the new office looking?"

He hung his head. "Moving a whole office isn't easy. Still, I've been working with some staff in the new building, moving things around like you suggested. You've got a keen eye. It's good for the spirit. Think maybe we should hire you on as a consultant for these things, huh?"

I flickered a smile at him. "It sounds like a lot of fun, but… I'm heading out of the city."

"Oh, yeah? What for?"

"Work. Life."

"Oh." He set down his sandwich. "Heading out permanently."

"Mm." I sipped lightly at my drink, turning back to the window, the street out front busy with people. "It's been nice here, and I've met a lot of lovely people, but… my career's kind of ground to a halt."

"Ground to a halt? Weren't you headlining a conference two days ago? I saw you all over social media."

I put my laptop away with a sigh, leaning over the table. "Headlining it as the representative for a company that closed its doors while I was on stage. That's been all over social media. They made me into the fall girl, the face to attach to the collapse of the company. Getting the heat off themselves. Just… guess it's just my bad luck streak again."

"Dios mio. Doesn't everyone think they have bad luck? It's human nature to notice the bad more than the good and feel like you're drowning in it."

I gave him a thin smile. "Yeah. You're probably not wrong. But… it's too much to dismiss as coincidence, especially since it's not usually happening to me. It happens to people around me. It just screws me over when it's something like… María having her company go under while I'm working there."

He laughed. I felt my face burn.

"Is it that funny?" I said. "When my livelihood is falling apart?"

"Oh—sorry." He waved the laughter off. "I guess it's serious right now. Lo siento. Just… you know something? I noticed it when we had the meditation session together."

"Noticed what?"

"A little black cloud around you. I'd thought maybe I was imagining it. You had me questioning everything I thought I knew—should have been no way I was that wrong about you. But now it's obvious."

My stomach churned, but I just arched my eyebrows lightly. "A little black cloud, huh? Sounds… flattering."

"You're not yourself, London. That's what it is."

I hesitated, tension drawing taut in my throat. I wanted to ask what he was talking about, but… I knew what he was talking about. Cameron had been telling me the same thing. Adam went on without a care.

"You're so at odds with yourself. It's a profound disharmony."

"I… don't see how that brings people bad luck."

"Isn't it obvious? What is bad luck itself, if not disharmony in the first place? The lack of coordination between what you want and what happens."

I pursed my lips. "I think we're veering a bit far into the mystical."

He gave me a sly smile, reaching into his back pocket. "Something a bit more tangible, then," he said, pulling out his wallet. He fished around inside and pulled out a quarter, and he held it up between us, tails side towards me. "Say you flipped a million coins over and over. Statistically speaking, one of them is going to come up tails twenty times in a row. What if I told you this is that coin?"

" Were you flipping a million coins?"

He smiled. "This coin has only seen tails. It doesn't know anything about heads—doesn't even know it's capable of landing on heads. If I flip this coin right now, what are the odds of it landing on heads?"

I frowned. "Well… fifty-fifty."

"How much would you bet?"

I hesitated. Didn't matter. He flipped the coin, straight up into the air, and he caught it in one hand. He kept it in his palm, not showing it.

"Well?" I said, not knowing what this tension was in my chest.

"You said fifty-fifty. Does the coin think it's fifty-fifty?"

"A… a coin isn't a person. It's not an analogy."

He pocketed the coin, standing back up, picking up his sandwich. "Well, I'd better go. I have to meet with someone in fifteen."

"I—wait. The coin?"

He grinned, finishing his sandwich and balling up the wrapper. "You tell me what it landed on."

"I don't know. " And I didn't know why I was so agitated—why I felt like my life would fall apart if I didn't know which way the coin landed.

"Take care, now, you hear?" He turned away, holding a hand up in a lazy wave over his shoulder, and I found myself straining at the table as he left, watching him go—watching the door swing shut behind him, waiting for him to come back, waiting for someone, something, anything.