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“Alright, crazy girl. Come back here, you need to finish your homework before dinner is ready.”
She jump-hops across the living room and into the dining room to sit back in her chair.
“Mommy, how many days is it until Saturday?”
Here we go.
“Five days.”
The look of horror that crosses her face makes me smile.
“It is going to go by quicker than you think, baby girl. You are going to be too busy having fun at school to notice the time passing. Now, is there anything that I need to do for you for school?”
We go over all of the first day paperwork that we both have to fill out and get her binder set up. It’s odd to me that I am able to do everyday tasks and obviously have the knowledge needed to function, but I have no memory of learning any of it. I can’t remember my time in school or if I liked it like Sophia does or not.
Once the timer for dinner goes off, Sophia puts her school things away and I take the casserole out of the oven. I’m distracted through dinner as Sophia talks about what kind of dress she wants to wear to the charity gala. I had to explain to her what it was and that we needed to dress up for it. It might have been a mistake to do so because it just amped up her excitement. I’m happy that she is excited for it, but I’m not looking forward to going to this event.
Sophia crawls into her bed, and as I sit on the edge to tuck her in, she looks up at me with her unique eyes and says, “I can’t wait for Saturday.”
I laugh and kiss her head, picking up a book to read to her. She’s asleep before I can finish it, and as I climb into bed with my body aching from being up all day, I can’t shake the feeling that something big is about to happen.
2
CHANDLER
“Have the marketing team come up with a plan for this idea and tell them that I want them to have something to present by Monday afternoon.”
I hand my assistant the paper with the mockup advertisement for the company and wait for her to finish taking notes on her tablet.
“Is there anything specific you want them to do with it?”
I take a moment to think about how I want them to do the ad, but I’m too distracted today to come up with anything.
“No, just tell them to go with their guts on this one, and we can figure it out after they present it to me.”
Jillian nods and, after collecting all of her things, turns to leave my office.
I sit back in my chair and run a hand over my face. The stubble on my chin scratches against my palm, and I realize that I don’t know when I last shaved, which is unlike me. I take a lot of pride in my appearance. I thought staying fit and looking put together was enough, but Jillian once told me that it was the bare minimum. I stand from my desk and walk into the bathroom that is connected to my office. I keep extra things in here for the times when things are busy and I don’t have time to go home. Picking up the shaving cream I shake the can and spray some out onto my hand before spreading it over my jaw.
I look over myself while I shave, my dirty blonde hair is longer than I usually let it get. The sides are starting to grow out, and the top is falling into my eyes. My black dress pants and dark blue button up shirt that I spent a lot of money to have fit my tall built form perfectly are wrinkled and twisted around my body. I stand at six feet tall exactly and work hard to keep my body in shape; I like my clothes to show it off. There are dark circles under my sea blue eyes, emphasizing the golden ring around the pupil, but they are only noticeable if someone is looking close enough.
Once done, I wash my face off and check my watch. It’s only eleven in the morning and it feels like I’ve been here a full day.
Sighing, I turn out the light of the bathroom and make my way back to my desk to drown myself in work some more.
I don’t want to think about what today is. I don’t want to think about how I will be going home tonight to an empty penthouse apartment once again.
It’s been nine years, Chandler.
I minimize the emails I have open on my desktop and click on the folder labeled DON’T OPEN at the top right corner of the screen. I labeled it that to try and keep myself from staring at the pictures I stored in there all day. The cursor hovers over the folder while I debate with myself to open it or not. If there is a time that would be okay to open it, it would be today. I lift my finger, just about to double click on the folder when a knock sounds at my door.
“Come in.”
I’m relieved at the interruption. It keeps me from making a mistake and looking at the pictures in the folder.
Jillian opens the door and peeks around it at me.
“Marketing has a few questions for you about the presentation. Do you want me to transfer them to you or do you want to go down to see them?”
