Page 75 of Meet Me in a Mile


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He’d failed her, and then he’d lost her.

It was no wonder he was having trouble clearing his head.

As a distraction, he’d throw himself into revising and researching a new model for his business plan. Something that would allow him to keep offering youth programming without the bank worrying that he’d have trouble making his loan payments.

But as he sat at his kitchen table, his laptop open to a dozen different tabs, his thoughts kept drifting back to Lydia. He wondered what she was doing with her time now that they weren’t training. He wondered if any part of her missed running. If he’d done any part of his job right, maybe she’d still find enjoyment in it.

Mostly he wondered if he’d ever talk to her again.

As far as he knew, Ashley still went to yoga, so maybe he’d see Lydia on occasion as she dropped her sister off in the morning. Or maybe she’d avoid the gym and him entirely now.

What Luke should have done was keep his feelings to himself. He rubbed at his forehead. Without adding that weight to her shoulders, he might have been able to talk her into coming back to finish her training. Now he couldn’t help thinking that he’d only chased her further away. Further away from her goal, from that finish line.

He thought about his own finish line. About what would happen if he couldn’t figure this out. He’d still be a personal trainer, he’d still have Fitness Forum and his role at the youth center. He thought of the kids. Thought about how it was kismet that Lydia’s firm had entered the proposal competition, that she’d been running for a charity that supported the youth center, that she’d entered his world at all.

Luke sat up straighter, thinking about the charity. Poletti’s was raising money and in return, the charity had sponsored Lydia’s place in the marathon. What if... He snatched a piece of paper, then scribbled down his thoughts.

What if he based his business model on something similar? He wanted to offer youth classes but the bank was worried about him funding the programming. So why not a sponsorship? What if he adjusted his pricing model so that each adult membership sponsored a youth membership? That could be a unique hook to attract clients to his gym. And uniqueness would set him apart from everyone else when he presented the market research. People loved donating to a good cause. This way they could do that monthly just by working out.

His plan fell together in his mind so quickly that Luke jumped up from his chair and paced back and forth. This was the breakthrough he’d been hoping for, something concrete. Something that he’d be proud to take back to Mrs. Amisfield.

He nearly reached for his phone, giddy with adrenaline, to text Lydia about his big idea, but he left it on the table where it sat, remembering the line that had been drawn.

He’d told her how he felt and she hadn’t felt the same.

That was a hard boundary line. One he couldn’t cross.

So, he sat back down, opened a new document and started typing up his sponsorship plan.

Lydia

As Lydia rode the elevator up to Poletti’s on Thursday morning following her short run, she willed the elevator to spit her out on any other floor. A sort of melancholy had settled over her at work in the days since confronting Jack and asking him to pull their proposal. Kirsten had done her best to cheer her up once Lydia had explained what happened; she’d kept up a running commentary at lunch and left overly sugary coffee and pastries on her desk, but the truth was, Lydia didn’t really want to be there.

The worst of it wasn’t even awkwardly trying to avoid Jack in the break room or pretending to feign interest in projects she had no desire to be working on, but realizing that Kirsten had been right about what she said that day when the office went running. Lydia could draw a thousand blueprints, work on hundreds of projects, but she was never going to get a fair shot at Poletti’s. Not with the current leadership team in place. She slumped back in her chair, letting it twist toward her slim window, staring out at the LEGO-stacked buildings.

Was she always going to feel this way coming into work now? Unimpassioned. Indifferent.Bored. What did that mean for her place here at Poletti’s? Her role on Erik’s team? The idea of considering other options flitted through her mind, but what options, and where? Poletti’s was home. This was where she wanted to be. Right?

Lydia turned on her laptop and checked her email, hoping Erik had something to take her mind off her current train of thought.A thousand blueprints. If she really got around to drawing up a thousand blueprints before the leadership team took notice, then she’d be a fool.

She deleted spam emails.A thousand blueprints. Blueprints...

She suddenly remembered the very amateur sketches Luke had done of his gym. The ones she’d found that day in his office that he hoped to incorporate into his business plan. They’d joked about how bad those drawings were, but maybe that’s how she could make this up to him—apologize for dragging him into her confusion, thank him for his support, tell him he was right and that her feelings were just as strong. This could be the olive branch she’d been looking for, and with any luck, it would help him get his loan approved.

Lydia might not know what to do about her work situation, but at least she could do something to try to fill the hole in her chest that had been created by Luke’s sudden absence from her life. Spurred on by the idea, Lydia opened and closed drawers in her desk, looking for a clean roll of drafting paper. She didn’t know how much time she had before he’d be submitting his business plan again, so the quicker she got it done, the better. She cleared off her desk and unfurled a length of paper across the surface. As the paper settled, out fell a small, rectangular card.

Lydia picked it up and flipped it over. It was the business card she’d gotten from Angela Reeves at the mixer—the architect from Coleman & Associates. Lydia hadn’t thought much of the interaction at the time. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d told Angela she was happy at Poletti’s, scrounging around for meaningful work. What a lie that had turned out to be. Lydia flicked the card against her palm. Angela had said to call her if she was interested in talking about what her firm had to offer. Lydia had only looked at their website for a brief minute that day, but she’d been intrigued by what she saw.

Her eyes danced across the desk, landing on her phone. Was this a foolish idea? Was she being reckless with her career? Jumping ship would mean starting from scratch somewhere new. Lydia would be the odd person out. She’d have to make new work friends. Learn the structure of a new firm. Figure out which rung of the ladder she was on. That sounded daunting and terrifying, but what was the alternative? Stay and let things carry on exactly as they were?

Lydia picked up her phone. What was the harm in a call? She could just see what Angela had to say. It didn’t mean she was committing to anything. Lydia dialed before she could second-guess herself anymore. A surprising bout of nerves flared in her chest, drumming against her ribs. Angela had said the offer didn’t expire, but would she even remember who Lydia was? Or had she handed out a dozen business cards at that mixer?

Oh God, maybe she was about to make a fool of herself.

“This is Angela Reeves.”

“Yes, hello,” Lydia stammered. She’d sort of been hoping the call would go to voicemail. “I, uh, don’t know if you’ll remember me, but my name’s Lydia McKenzie. We met at the—”

“Future Architects of New York mixer,” Angela said. “Of course, how are you?”

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