Chapter Seventeen

Charlie stared at the street sign ahead to orient herself as a sea of yellow cabs flew through the intersection, one of the cabbies leaning on their horn for reasons she was unclear on. Across the street, a line of people in business attire had formed in front of an Indian food cart that made her remember she hadn't exactly had lunch. She double-checked the address to make sure she'd located the right building in Midtown East and, with her heart in her throat, headed for the elevator bank.

She'd received a text from Monica reminding her to ask questions, be specific about her goals, and not to be shy about showing off what she was capable of. While there wasn't a ton of affection in their occasional communication, she was grateful for Monica's support, and it was clear she did still care. Their relationship would come back around. She knew it. Charlie was willing to be patient.

"Charlie?"

She looked up from her spot in the lobby to find the one and only June DiCarlo smiling at her in a sleek skirt and jacket combo. She had blond hair that fell just past her chin and smart-looking black glasses. Literary glasses. Simply being between the walls of Broadland Rhodes made Charlie want to stop everything and write.

"Hi, June. It's so nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Why don't you come on back." She followed June into her office, which was comfortable, yet stylish. The picture window behind her desk looked out onto Lexington Avenue from the twelfth floor. A lovely view.

June settled in behind the desk and smiled. "Monica is a good friend, and she says you're like a daughter to her."

"My mother passed some years back, and the two of them were very close."

"Well, she speaks very highly of you, and you know how the world feels about Monica McHenry." June spoke at a very fast pace and had the most direct eye contact Charlie had ever seen.

"She's a force," Charlie said. Not a lie.

"Here's the thing. Your résumé and your commitment to education tell me you're serious. Are you a hard worker?"

"I am."

"And if I set you up with a developmental editor, in addition to your potential position with the company, are you going to be able to take their notes?"

"Revising is my favorite part of the process."

"Good to know." June sat back. "This is a fast-paced environment. The work isn't glamorous. Sometimes I need someone to act as a liaison between departments. At other points, I might need someone to stand in for me at meetings. I also might desperately need a cappuccino from downstairs."

Charlie smiled. "I can liaise, stand in, and fetch coffee with the best of them. I want to learn, grow, and form a solid foundation for my career."

June nodded. "Good answer." A flashed smile. "I go with my gut and don't feel the need to waste time with a lot of introspective get-to-know-you questions. In fact, I hate them. Let's give it a shot and see how it goes. If you're awful, you're fired." She flashed a smile that said she was only half kidding.

That was it? She'd been in the office for all of five minutes. "I would love that."

"The hours aren't easy, but you could learn a lot here, Charlie. I'll have my staff send over the paperwork to get you a start date shortly after your graduation, which I have written down here somewhere." She glanced down at her notes and then abandoned the mission. "Give Monica my best. She owes me an extra dirty martini because I bought the last three."

"I'll tell her."

After the whirlwind meeting that felt more like a drive-by than anything, Charlie was back outside with her phone to her ear. Taryn was easily her first call, and she answered on the second ring.

"Is it over? How did it go?"

Charlie gulped air, too excited to drag out the news. "She's bringing me on board. I'm officially working for Broadland Rhodes in less than three months. June's setting me up with a developmental editor for my manuscript. It's happening, Tare."

"I would kiss your face off," Taryn said. "This is the most amazing news, and now I can sit down because I've been walking in circles waiting to hear. Congratulations, Charlie. We're going to have to celebrate the second you're home. Hurry."

"Taryn?"

"Yes?"

Charlie placed a hand on her head and grinned, feeling brave, vulnerable, and—above all else—truthful. "I love you. I just wanted to say that."

The line was quiet for a moment and then, "I love you, too, Charlie. With all I have. Get home already."

* * *

It was a big night. The photography department was holding its annual reception celebrating the work of their most promising students, a Hillspoint tradition every spring semester. While Taryn hadn't expected to be included, she was over the moon to learn she'd have two of her photographs featured alongside those of her classmates. While she wished more than anything that Charlie could be there with her to experience the exciting evening, which was turning out to be a much bigger deal than she'd realized, unfortunately, she wasn't yet back from New York. Instead, Taryn planned to memorize every detail, just as Charlie had instructed her to, and share it with her later, maybe over coffee at the Bump and Grind. In the meantime, she stood near her photographs, as instructed, answering questions and smiling brightly at donors who came by.

"I love the protest photo," Ashley said as she passed. "You're doing great things."

"Thank you," Taryn said, appreciative of the guidance Ashley had provided. She'd miss her around the department once she graduated.

During a small lull, Taryn snuck away to secure a cup of the fruit punch in the corner of the reception space. When she turned, she found herself face-to-face with a woman who seemed familiar for a reason Taryn couldn't pinpoint. She smiled at her as she turned to go, figuring she was likely an instructor she'd seen around.

Before she could get very far, the woman held up a hand. "Taryn. Good to see you. Enjoying your evening?"

"I am. Thank you." She was surprised the woman knew her name and now wondered more than ever where she recognized her from.

"Do you remember me? I'm Monica McHenry."

"Oh." Danny's mother. Fuck. The one from Charlie's apartment. "Hello." This was unexpected.

"I've heard a lot about you," Monica said. Taryn wasn't sure what to say, so she didn't. "Your work is striking. You show great potential."

Butterflies swarmed, and Taryn blinked, trying to orient herself to the moment, to officially meeting Monica, an important person in Charlie's life. While out of the blue, she welcomed the opportunity to make a good impression. Maybe Monica was one of the department's VIP donors. Roger had mentioned that there would be a few in attendance.

"Thank you so much. It's really wonderful to meet you. Charlie speaks so highly of you and your family."

Monica touched her chest. "That girl is a love, isn't she?"

"She's amazing."

"I'm glad you agree. I want us to have a conversation that I'm hopeful will prove beneficial to all of us."

"All right. Sure. We can do that." Taryn, fruit punch in hand, looked around for a quiet spot, but Monica was already leading the way to a lounge off the reception hall. She clearly knew her way around.

Once they settled at a table and chairs, Monica regarded her with soft eyes. "Charlie has a bright future ahead of her. I'm sure you do, too."

Taryn wasn't sure where this was going, but she hoped it was Monica's way of bridging the gap that had sprung up between her and Charlie. She knew they were still in contact, but according to Charlie, it hadn't been the same, which was unfortunate. "I think we're still waiting to find out about me, but she definitely does. She had a great meeting with your contact in New York and will be back tomorrow."

"You said we're waiting to find out? Does that mean you and Charlotte? We?"

"I think I just meant the collective."

Monica flashed a smile that appeared way too fast to be sincere. "But you two are a we, correct? That's what I've heard anyway."

She had no reason to lead with anything except the truth. "Yes. We're together."

Monica winced. "It's a bad idea for her, don't you think?"

"I think when two people are happy together, it's never a bad idea." Taryn felt like she'd waded into shark-infested waters but wasn't quite sure why.

"Unless it destroys someone's entire life." Monica leaned forward. "Charlie was on a very favorable path, headed toward an engagement, a future family, and a promising career as a novelist. Then you appeared."

"I don't want to take anything away from Charlie, but I think—"

"Don't, though. Fix it instead."

"I don't know what you mean." Taryn hated that she was allowing this woman to intimidate her, and she was. It was all she could do not to crumple. Where was all that strength she'd been working on when she needed it?

"From what I hear, Charlotte's presented herself in a very impressive manner in New York. She's excited for the opportunity, a door that will lead to so many great things in the literary community. Broadland Rhodes is a fortress to someone on the ground floor, but I escorted her in. I can just as easily escort her right out again."

Taryn frowned, attempting to follow the thread. Surely she'd misunderstood. She remained still. "Are you saying you would do that?"

"I'm asking you to step away and I won't have to. It's time for Charlie to get back to her life. Playtime is over." She touched Taryn's wrist. "I say that with respect. This is nothing personal, but I won't have my family disrupted. You're treading on a lot of history, my dear."

"What if Charlie doesn't want me to go anywhere?" Her voice sounded small and meek.

"She's lost right now. She's a woman about to step into the real world for the first time, and she's panicking. I think we've all been there. Do her the biggest favor of your life and get out of the way so she can remember who she is again." Monica lifted a shoulder. "Or don't, and I'll rescind my recommendation. Broadland Rhodes is hoping to sign me for another three-book deal and is willing to do just about whatever I ask."

Taryn couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. It was ludicrous and awful all at the same time.

"Do the right thing, Tina."

"My name is Taryn."

"An easy mistake." It wasn't. It was meant to show her how replaceable she was. Monica gestured to the reception hall behind them. "Your professors speak highly of you. You have a promising future if you play your cards right. Give me a call someday if you'd like me to make a connection for you."

"No. That won't be necessary," she said evenly. Never in a million years would she want help from this woman, who professed to love and care about others, when in fact, she used her power to manipulate and get what she wanted.

"Suit yourself." She turned to go and paused. "But I implore you to think about what I said and do the best possible thing for Charlie. If you feel for her what you seem to, you'll want her to have everything she's dreaming of right now. Don't take it all away from her."

And then she was gone, taking with her Taryn's sense of stability, clarity, and trust that the world was a good place. She went through the rest of the reception like an automaton. She smiled in the right spots and complimented the work on display. She nodded and feigned gratitude when many told her how much they enjoyed her photographs. But underneath it all, Taryn was numb.

She didn't walk straight home but instead took a circuitous path through campus. She passed through the grouping of trees where she and Charlie had once watched the copper glow. She found a bench near the foreign language building where she could still see them kissing against a nearby tree beneath the cover of darkness. Everything in her screamed to go straight to Charlie and tell her everything Monica had threatened. But to what end? Charlie would run angry to Monica, only to have the arrangement pulled out from beneath her. Or worse, she'd get the fire in her eyes she often did, and let the opportunity go. Or would she choose the job over Taryn? The fact of the matter was she didn't like any of those options, making this whole thing wildly unfair. Yet here it sat on her shoulders.

So, she walked and walked, hands in her pockets, heart aching and mind racing, a wreck. Maybe the best solution was a temporary evil. Maybe she stepped away long enough for Charlie to find her footing in New York, establish herself in that world. If Taryn was patient, and Charlie was forgiving, they would find their way back to each other, right? They were meant to be together. Taryn was more sure of that than the sun coming up, but maybe timing was key and the only way around Charlie not losing everything she'd been working toward.

With several miles under her belt, and her feet aching, her heart had gone from counting the moments until Charlie was home to dreading the interaction ahead, whatever that might be. Her plan was to sleep on it and see if the morning brought any clarity.

Love did conquer all, right? She had to believe that she and Charlie would be okay, no matter what happened in the short term. The alternative was too impossible to consider.