Chapter 2

The too-small office was suffocating.The old government building's heating system couldn't adjust to significant temperature variations. In the wide-open spaces, it was cold, and in an office, you roasted.

"Your work has been exemplary, Sage," Carolyn McFadden said with an insincere smile. "Unfortunately, with budget cuts and the fact that most information is now accessed online, we're going to have to let you go."

I'd been preparing for this moment for the last six months. Employees started doing the math when the department's projected funding was cut by twenty percent for the new year. Fewer and fewer people were coming in, requesting to see the land deeds. In October, five of the eight people under my supervision had been encouraged to look for positions elsewhere.

My silence must have gone on too long because Carolyn spoke again. "The City Council has approved a good compensation package. Really…considering everything…it's good." If only her brown gaze had warmed, I would have believed her.

A cold sweat broke out under my blouse. I was caught off guard at how surprised I felt. No matter how much you prepared for bad news, it always knocked you down. "How long?" My voice sounded strange, gravelly.

"What?"

"When will my last day be?" I was pragmatic. I needed to absorb this news in small bits. Otherwise, I wasted time being inefficient.

My mother had always claimed that I was born with an "old soul." She had been an artist controlled by her flights of fancy. One of us had to be practical, or we would never have had food on the table or a roof over our heads.

"Your situation is a little different." Carolyn glanced down at the stack of papers in front of her. "You have amassed a substantial amount of leave."

I narrowed my eyes as I considered what she would say next. I had memorized the employee handbook section regarding separation and how leave time was compensated.

"We can only offer pay for two weeks of vacation."

I'd saved my time by only taking days off when I had a terrible flu and couldn't get better for ten days. I had planned to take six weeks off and go on a trip. I hadn't picked a location. I had several in mind. I only knew that I wanted it to be an adventure.

"Really?" That was not how I remembered the rule.

"You could leave today and be done with us while we continue to pay your salary for six weeks." Carolyn leaned forward in her seat, waiting for my response.

"That sounds like a perfect plan if you increase it to eight weeks." I glanced at my watch. It was my only piece of "good" jewelry—a splurge when the first collection I'd curated had sold out even though the artist had been relatively unknown. The collection had only included ten paintings. That felt like eons ago.

"Seriously?" She fell back into her chair. "You're leaving today?"

"Carolyn, if you can find the boxes, I'll be gone by lunch." I did not hang around where I wasn't welcome. I'd made that rule very early in life. My mother had never picked up on our hosts' small cues or veiled comments when we had overstayed our welcome. However, I had noticed. We would pack our things and arrange a ride. I now did the same with relationships and friendships.

I dropped off the two boxes containing the items from my cubicle at my apartment. I walked the four blocks to the small café that Roman and Julieanne preferred. They were the closest thing I had to family. I'd known them my entire life. My mother had always used their apartment as a place where we would crash when her luck had run out. It was best that I get this over with as soon as possible. That way, Julieanne could have her hysterics, and Roman could damn the "idiots who don't recognize your worth" and get on with life.

Although our neighborhood was not lakeside, the wind blowing off Lake Michigan was bitter. I pulled my coat tighter and hurried my steps.

"There she is," Roman's voice rang out as I made my way to the back of the restaurant.

"It feels good in here." I pulled my knit beanie from my head and then removed my gloves.

"This is a surprise." Julieanne was studying me closely. "You're never available for lunch on a weekday."

"I have news." I tried to smile as I unzipped my coat.

"There is plenty of time. Sit, get a drink, order your lunch, then news," Roman decreed with a dramatic wave of his hands.

Julieanne's pinched mouth told me she wasn't happy that her husband had decided to dictate the show today.

Orders were placed, and drinks were delivered when I cleared my throat. "I lost my job today." I tore open the packet and added sugar to my iced tea.

"You quit your job?" Julieanne cried.

"I was let go." I shrugged one shoulder. "It wasn't a surprise."

"I don't understand," Roman began, "you were a model employee."

"I think the term is redundant. Most people use the internet to search for records. There's no longer a need for a supervisor to manage the records clerks."

"What about your plans?" Julieanne continued in a higher-than-usual voice.

"I'll have to put them on hold."

"But you've worked so hard. You were sick as a dog; that was the only time you took time off. I found you crawling to the bathroom." Her eyes were shining, and soon the tears would fall.

"I'll need to tighten the budget while I look around for a new job."

"Sweetheart." Roman rested his warm palm over my hand. "I'm getting one of my feelings."

Do not roll your eyes.

"Roman, you are being silly," his wife snapped.

"I'm not." He released my hand. "I feel like this change will be good for you." He nodded once. "You have a great eye and are brilliant. You were wasted in the government office."

"I wish we had enough so you could work with us," Julieanne added while frowning. "But the taxes keep going up, and we had to fix the plumbing…"

"You two have always helped me. Being here with me now is what is important." I blinked quickly because I didn't want them to see me cry. "You have always looked out for me."

"Not to speak poorly of your mother, but Judith lived in her own world," Roman said.

"He always worried that she would forget and leave you when she decided to change locations," Julieanne said.

"She did a few times," I shared.

"She could barely take care of herself when you were little. We had to pitch in," Roman said.

"I liked it when I could stay with you." I was back in control of my emotions. "You taught me how to put together a show. How to speak to agents and the artists themselves."

"You have a rare talent, my darling." Julieanne used her napkin to dab at her eyes. "Not only do you have the eye, but you also have brains."

"Smythe was an idiot to lose you," Roman added.

"He was losing money. I was low on the ladder, so I had to go." There were no guarantees in the land of art sales. The market was tumultuous.

"You've always been too understanding. I blame Judith. You loved her and forgave her too often," Roman complained. "You think you must solve every problem."

Our food arrived, and luckily, that conversation ended.

After a few moments, Julieanne brightened. "You should come with us tonight. We're going to the north shore to see a photographer's show."

"Who?" I tried to keep up with the art world.

"Talia Belle. Do you know her work?" Roman asked.

"No. Where is she showing?"

Julieanne gave a dramatic flip of her dyed, bright, red hair. "We're unfamiliar with her work, but we liked what we saw in the catalog, even though the pages had a gloss finish."

I giggled. Julieann would deny it to her last breath, but she was a snob. She considered many who opened galleries to be imposters. She'd told me that many times. "Those society types, they don't know art. They only like to serve wine and canapes while they go on and on about shadow and light."

"You know those galleries in the northern suburbs. Pretty things to be acquired by pretty people." Roman used his fork to add to his words.

"Working with interior designers is a necessary evil," I reminded them. "If the clients want art for their homes, who are you to quibble? The uneducated's money spends as easily as the knowledgable's."

"I'd prefer the buyers have some degree of knowledge rather than the green matches the duvet cover," he complained.

I shrugged. "As long as the money is good, does it matter?"

"It's that attitude that will keep you from living on the street," Julieanne said proudly.

"I don't want to live on the street," I told her quickly, "especially during a Chicago winter." I faked a shiver. "I'd like to go with you tonight, as long as her work isn't freaky." I paused to narrow my eyes. "You know, those headless dolls still haunt me."

She didn't even blink.

"We'll pick you up at seven. That will allow the traffic to clear." Roman grinned. "We'll have an outing. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this artist's work."

"Sounds good."