Chapter 5

FIVE

SOPHIE

The soggy ground squished beneath Sophie’s feet, the moss and mud feeling like pebble-filled putty under her heels. Damp, green air filled the surrounding space. Her lungs were heavy, her airway cut off, the breath constricted in her throat. “I… can’t… breathe.”

A slap on the arm met those words. “Dude. We’ve been hiking for like ten minutes.” Maya rolled her eyes. “You are the most dramatic human alive.”

Sophie grunted and followed Maya up the trail. Easy for Maya to say. She was an avid runner, ate like a nutritionist, and always got a proper eight hours of sleep. Sophie ate Goldfish crackers, if anything, for breakfast, hadn’t worked out for months, and often fell asleep with a laptop on her chest.

It wasn’t always this way. Sophie loved hiking. The burning lungs, dry mouth, and sweat mixing with mist were a small price for the elation of reaching the top. For years, she’d done this on the weekends—Cougar Mountain, Tiger Mountain, Mount Si, Snoqualmie Falls, even Mount Rainier. Okay, fine, not the entire mountain as that was reserved for the hard-core, uber-fit, and ultra-prepared, but she had done a Paradise trail multiple times, reaching high enough to touch snow in June.

But since the promotion to project manager, physical activity had taken a nosedive. Walking to the bus stop or forcing herself to take the stairs at work was about the gist of her weekly cardio.

Ten more minutes and the burn subsided. The fern-filled air turned refreshing, even rejuvenating. She concentrated on stepping over the rocks and fallen tree trunks lining the path, inhaling the cedar and Douglas fir scent, her backpack slapping against her body with each stride. The mist cooled her face, and she tugged off her knit hat to let the moisture touch her buzzed scalp.

No words were spoken, per their rule going up, unless it was “passing on your left” or “excuse me” as slower hikers shifted to the side. This was meditation time, and Sophie took that as seriously as Maya. While ascending, she didn’t need to think about work or project plans or deadlines. Nor would she noodle on the fact that she was wasting her prime mate-finding years by marrying herself to Mahogany and Moon. Right now, her work was her love, her life, her mistress. She couldn’t tear herself away.

Just because she didn’t need to think about work, didn’t mean her mind listened. Her thoughts drifted to Ella and the first week they’d completed. Was it as terrible as Sophie had expected? No. Was it still terrible? Yes. Much to her surprise, and a bit of annoyance, Ella worked hard. She drafted memos, took detailed notes, hung on every word. She’d tuck her dark hair behind her ear, revealing a cute, petite earlobe with a small hoop earring, and lean forward to bang against her laptop.

But Sophie hated that when she finally got the chance to train someone, be a real mentor, even a leader, Ella was the trainee. When Sophie looked at Ella, the humiliation of their first meeting boomed front and center and smacked the patience from her. The look she got that first day was the same from the popular girls in school, the ones who ganged up outside of Sophie’s bathroom stall, snickering at her clothes, saying no matter how often she washed it, the secondhand store smell was imbedded into the fabric.

Her foot skidded on a rock and she’d never been more grateful for her well-worn Timberlands than right now.

“You good?” Maya asked.

“Yep.” Sophie rolled her ankle and kept moving.

Higher and higher, the air turned thinner, the light fog like a smoke machine. The top was within sight. Hundred feet, fifty… twenty.

“My God. Look at that.” Maya threw her hands on her hips and stared out.

Sophie unzipped her nylon raincoat, flopped down on the earth, and guzzled one of two water bottles. Her heartbeat pounded so hard she could feel her neck skin stretch against the vein. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins.

From up here, she could see the world. She swore if she could stretch just the tiniest bit, she could touch the clouds. Mountains surrounded her, evergreen trees touched the sky. The lake below was an oasis, so peaceful it looked as if it wasn’t moving.

Sophie had never been a believer. Agnostic, maybe, but she never put too much thought into spirituality. But up here was God’s country.

“Here.” Maya passed over a protein shake. “Got to keep those blood sugars regulated.”

Sophie downed the chalky chocolate, feeling the mucky substance slide down her throat. Ick . “Your obsession with blood sugars is truly remarkable.” Maya would know she was kidding. Maya’s younger sister, Harper, was a type 1 diabetic, and Maya was almost a year into her master’s focusing on diabetes. Besides her family, friends, and Remi, Sophie swore Maya’s true love was plasma and platelets. “Well, catch me up on the latest. How are things with you and Remi? Ben? I feel like I’m so behind on everything.”

“You are.” Maya wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand. She leaned back against her palms and her gaze followed the outline of the trees. “Remi. God, I love that woman. So much. I know we U-Hauled pretty quick?—”

“It wasn’t that quick. I mean, you were together, what, like, six months before you all officially moved in together.”

Maya crossed her legs and leaned on her elbows. “I’m going to ask her to marry me?—”

“What! Maya, that’s amazing. I’m so?—”

“Whoa. Slow down, tiger. Someday. Someday I’m going to ask her to marry me.” Maya laughed. “She’s my everything.”

Her voice turned soft, and sincere, and Sophie’s heart pinched. Yes, of course she was happy for her friend. Maya deserved love and companionship more than any other human on earth. But a tiny part of Sophie couldn’t help but wonder… Will that ever be me?

“And this is super on the DL right now, but Ben is talking more and more about settling down with someone or a couple. Remi said she’s never seen him like this before.”

“Oh yeah?” She’d gotten to know Ben over the last year a bit, and had liked him immediately. Quick with his bright smile, funny, loyal to his core. But admittedly, the stories he told made it seem like he loved living in single-land.

“Yep. We’re keeping our fingers crossed for him that he just finds some happiness, whatever that looks like.” Maya readjusted her ponytail. “So… how’s it going training the newbie?”

Sophie flicked her tongue against her lip ring. “Shitty.”

Maya lifted a brow. “Really? Have you still not let go whatever it is you have to let go?”

No . “I’m over it.” Of course that was a lie, and yes, Sophie knew she needed to move on. But feeling disrespected was a poison that burrowed deep and infected everything. Once you knew someone didn’t respect you, the urge to change their mind felt all-consuming. “I really hate that the boss’s daughter got a shot that took me four million years to get, just because she’s the boss’s daughter, you know? It’s not fair. I’ve given up so much. Time with you and Harper, friends, relationships…”

“Sex.” Maya released a puff through her nose.

She wasn’t wrong.

“When was the last time you got laid?” Maya asked.

“You already know.” Sophie picked up a stick and drew circles into the ground. “You love to grind my dry spell into me, huh?”

“Well, I do like grinding.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I don’t have the time like you to get tongue blasted every day by my hot girlfriend.”

“Oooh, Remi will love that you said that.” Maya unwrapped a peanut butter sandwich and bit into a chunk. “And you’re not wrong. The stamina with that one. Last night?—”

“Nope.” Sophie shuddered. She loved her bestie. But she had absolutely no desire to know her bedroom details. “Not another word.”

Sophie’s gaze followed a bald eagle soaring through the clouds, its wings flapping so effortlessly, yet with so much power, moving the majestic creature through the air. Deep breaths pulled through, and the silence of nature allowed her mind to drift. Maya might have been teasing, but Sophie knew she needed to make some changes.

Maybe after they landed the campaign, and after the cruise, she’d start dating. Her last serious relationship was in her teens. Her teens . Very few, one-to-two-month scattered relationships followed—which amounted into nothing more than the standard handful of dates, every-other-day texting, and both realizing it would never go further. And even that was at least two years ago. A onetime hookup last year with a woman she met around the block during happy hour was the last physical contact she’d had that was more than a hug.

The crisp air pulled through Sophie’s nose and filled her lungs, and she exhaled slowly. She had already exceeded her first five-year plan, and was full swing into her second. If she kept going, kept this pace, kept showing up and killing it every day, she could move to senior PM and then manager within three years. Then senior manager, director, then vice president—her North Star. They’d feature her in “40 Under 40” articles, people would ask how she became so successful so young, how she rose through the ranks without a degree, how she managed to become vice president by hustle alone . The Times might pick up the article, Forbes would get in on the action, maybe KING 5 would request an exclusive. She could go on a speaking tour, or write a book on how to break into the corporate world with nothing but grit and resilience.

She deserved this. And it wasn’t fair that Ella got the chance of a lifetime that Sophie busted her ass for. It wasn’t fair that some kids wore designer clothes and vacationed in Hawaii, where the most she ever did was pop a tent at Deception Pass. She felt like she was losing the control, the power she gained, and wasted the shit sandwich she ate that first year in laughing at dumb old white man jokes, and running to get dry cleaning even though that was never on the job description.

“You ready?” Maya asked, cutting through her thoughts. “Might be time to head back.”

Sophie shook out a breath, not nearly as relaxed as she hoped. “I think I need another minute.”

6:30 a.m. was for punks. But yet, here Sophie was, seeking out caffeine to drag her through week two with Ella. Ugh. Yes, she was being ridiculous. But she couldn’t help it. Her deep dislike for rich people had imbedded into her at a young age. It was irrational— of course it was irrational—but she swore rich people didn’t feel. They couldn’t feel, at least not to the depths that working-class or food-insecure people felt. If they were sad, they could just go buy something. A handbag, a Lambo, a designer-bred dog, to pull them out of their funk.

Rich people didn’t need to prove their worth. Simply by status, they had the luxury to demand respect wherever they went. They could just get things. They never needed to work for things.

But beautiful rich people? Pfffft. People like Ella, with her apple cheekbones and thick, straight hair, and full, round hips that swayed when she walked. Not that Sophie was looking. She just noticed it once, maybe twice. This odd, probably indecent fascination in watching Ella move was simply Sophie’s hormones acting haywire that fresh feminine energy had invaded her space.

Sophie loved women, of course, but she really loved women. Wanted to lift, validate, and support women, always. Matriarchy was next to godliness. But did Ella deserve her admiration? The way she made Sophie squirm, and not in the good way, indicated Sophie shouldn’t be admiring her looks at all.

The special smells of body odor, perfume, and someone eating an egg sandwich engulfed the metro to downtown. Sophie breathed through her mouth as she scrolled through her podcast backlog and started an episode on brand messaging. Closing her eyes, she pushed away thoughts of Ella, and tried to absorb the content.

It was useless. All the way to her stop, Sophie’s mind flashed images of Ella, with her irritating heart-shaped face, and those deep, warm brown eyes that reminded Sophie of fall, with leaves changing colors, burning wood scent, the feel of pulling on your favorite hoodie when the air turned crisp.

Gripping a coffee cup in hand, Sophie strolled the sidewalk. Traffic, honks, and the zip of cyclists passing on the bike lane surrounded her. She flicked at the mist on her face. The brassy scent of moist pavement and brick reached her nose, and she leaned into the smell. She loved spring, the mist turning warmer than the winter mist, the sweetness of the cherry blossoms, the promise of needed sunshine.

She had so much work to do and tonight looked to be another late night. A pile of meetings, emails, and reviews sat heavy on her chest. She ran her palm against the prickles in her hair and inhaled. She could do this. She would do this. That cruise was hers, and nothing would stop her. She’d sleep at the office if needed to execute this campaign.

Growing up, she never went anywhere that wasn’t within driving distance. Sure, she’d seen the ocean. Ocean Shores was only a few hours away. Oregon a few more hours. But this cruise meant she’d be with the ocean. Whale watching, saltwater, and coffee on the balcony.

Sophie stepped into the nearly vacant building. Five days until another Ella-free weekend. She rolled her shoulders like a fighter stepping into the ring and mentally prepared for her first meeting. Soon, a grin reached her lips. Ella may have been handed this job on a platter, but she’d never have Sophie’s edge.

Being scrappy her entire life, she picked up on things that others may miss. Details mattered. The VP liked her coffee with sugar-free vanilla, and her love language was fancy, fine-point gel pens. The creative director had two kids, nine and eleven, who were obsessed with the Hunger Games. The senior director of accounting was an avid Seahawks fan, and never got over Russell Wilson leaving the team for the Broncos. Even with Ella unfairly getting this job, it would take years to learn these things. Sophie would inherently be better. She exhaled. Maybe she should cut Ella some slack.

Cut Ella and her perfect mouth some slack.

Dammit. Not again.

The elevator dinged and Sophie crossed onto the floor. Joan Jett blasted through her headphones, and she tried to pull the energy into her soul. She rounded the corner and saw Ella at the desk, with King George hovering over her. It was barely after 7:00 a.m., but they looked like they’d been here all day.

She lowered her headphones and inched forward but halted at their expressions. George’s normal pompous-y, arrogant-y, salesman-y face carried a look that could only be described as fatherly—a frown, knotted eyebrows, a gentle hand on a shoulder. One that she’d seen many times over the years from her own dad accompanied with some variation of “I’m worried about you.”

“Shh.” Ella snapped the word quick and harsh, like a whip.

George stopped mid-sentence and morphed his face into a toothy grin. “Sophie Black. Just checking in to see if my daughter shared any embarrassing family stories.”

Ella’s nostrils flared, and she pulled her lips into a straight line.

Sophie unraveled her backpack from her shoulders as she approached. “Nope, not yet. Looking forward to them, though.”

George stepped back and waved Sophie to her desk. “Sophie, did I ever tell you how I got my start? Delivering newspapers…”

Rain or shine. Snow or hail. Then worked his way up to answering phones in the classified section. Then moved to cutting and taping the ads, old-school-style, to see how they’d fit on the 12 x 22 page, to working in a small agency.

She waited for him to finish telling the story she heard at least once a year during the annual summer picnic. But at the end, she grinned—she always did. She could respect someone who started at the bottom and worked their way up.

“Point is,” George said, “I see the good work you’re doing, and it reminds me of me.”

A bit of Sophie swelled with pride. She glanced at Ella to see if she caught what he said about her. Goober or not, getting a compliment from the boss always felt good. And it felt doubly good that Ella heard it.

Ella cleared her throat. “Thanks for stopping by. I, uh, think we’re good now.”

George glanced between Ella and Sophie. Sophie swore she could see his wheels spinning, probably in the common father-adult daughter dance, weighing what he should and should not say. “Well, a guy can take a hint, am I right?”

Ella remained silent and thumbed her frames back up to the top of her nose, a low blush sweeping her neck. She tugged on her fitted button-down shirt, a surprising change from last week. Although the moment itself was tense, Ella looked more relaxed. Skinny jeans and a long cream-colored shirt that somehow made her skin look, well, creamier.

Sophie set up her station and vowed to keep her eyes on the prize. They were inching towards thirty working days left to complete the Devil’s Doughnuts campaign, then… the cruise. A vacation. Saltwater. She, they, could do this.

“Ready to get back at it?” She had absolutely zero time to waste, and like it or not, she needed Ella’s help to execute on time.

Ella nodded, flashed a fiery, quick side-glance. “You have no idea how ready I am.”