Julia spent the drive home alternating between patting herself on the back for walking away from Luke and kicking herself in the ass for not listening to what he had to say. Kat had earned bonus friend points for putting up with Julia’s ranting the entire ride to Chicago. To make up for it, Julia insisted that Kat let her buy dinner, promising not to utter the words Luke or rom-com the rest of the night.
By the time Kat dropped Julia off at her apartment, it was after eight, and Julia was exhausted. She fumbled to get her key in the lock, grateful to be home. Dumping her suitcase in the corner, she collapsed face-first onto her miniature bed. She hated traveling. This trip had been only an hour or so by car, and she’d been miserable. How was she supposed to do this for a living?
But she was doing this. If she wanted to save her job and to continue be able to afford healthcare, if she wanted to avoid telling her parents they’d been right all along, then she had to do this. Which meant, she needed to start writing that review.
She flopped onto her back, gaze tracing the ductwork snaking through the rafters of her loft ceiling. The familiar view was comforting, but it did nothing to ease the ache inside her chest. Julia closed her eyes and visualized the acres of mattress she’d had at Notting Hill. She didn’t miss the bed. She missed the man she’d shared that bed with.
Her phone chimed and Julia scrambled to check it, heart swelling with hope.
But it was a text from Andie. A quick note to let Julia and Kat know she’d made it home fine. Curt hadn’t decapitated her and buried her in his mother’s basement.
Her phone chimed again with another message and an image came through. A picture from the wedding. Curt appeared surprisingly dapper in the more traditional groomsman wear of a three-piece suit, and Andie looked adorable tucked against his side, a flower crown on her head and laughter in her eyes.
Julia grinned at the picture, happy for her friend. At least somebody got the rom-com ending they were hoping for. With a sigh, she dug out her notepad and got started.
On Monday morning, Julia showed up for work at her usual time. She’d hit Send on the “Take Me!” assignment late last night—or rather, early this morning. Sometime during the beastly hour of three a.m.
She’d been tempted to call in sick. Not just because she needed the sleep. She legitimately felt ill, terrified to hear what Cleo thought of her article. The problem was—regardless of whether her boss loved it or hated it—Julia feared either outcome.
At half past nine, Cleo summoned Julia into her office. Julia’s stomach churned. On one hand, she was relieved she wouldn’t have to wait all day to find out the fate of her future. But at the same time, she felt like a defendant in a trial, where the jury’s ruling had come back so quickly that everyone wondered whether the fast decision meant really good news or really bad news.
“Julia!” Cleo waved her inside and gestured at a chair. Julia hoped the giant smile on Cleo’s face meant good news. If not, her boss was a closet sadist.
Julia took the seat indicated before Cleo changed her mind and had her doing more stretching exercises. Come to think of it, maybe her boss was a sadist after all.
“Julia,” Cleo said, giving her name enough weight to make it feel like it should be a whole sentence.
“Yes?” Julia asked, breath sticking in her chest.
Her boss rested her clasped hands on the desk and stared at her, giant smile still in place.
Julia continued to hold her breath. If Cleo didn’t say something soon, she was going to pass out. We’ll see if you’re still smiling then, Julia thought crossly.
Cleo leaned forward the tiniest bit. “I love it,” she declared, slapping the top of her desk with both palms.
“You do?” Julia exhaled, refilling her lungs with big gulps of air.
“I do.” Cleo nodded. “It was such a damn delight. Warm and witty. Informative but playful. The spotlight interviews you did with some of the guests might have been my favorite part.”
Julia grinned, glad she’d thought to include that angle. “Most of the names I used are the fake ones the guests were given to role-play, but I still made sure to get signatures of consent from everyone I included in the story.”
“Excellent.” Cleo leaned back in her chair. “Reading about Harry and Sally, the empty nester couple, reminded me how much I love rom-coms. As soon as I finished your article, do you know what I did?”
“Um, called me into your office?”
“No. First, I contacted that Mrs. Widowpork—”
“Weatherfork,” Julia corrected automatically. Figures she’d finally get it down only after she’d left.
“That’s the one. I called her up and booked a stay.” Cleo drifted over to her shelf of photos. “My thirtieth wedding anniversary is coming up, and this is exactly what I need to rekindle the spark with Mr. Chen.” She pulled a frame down and showed it to Julia. “This is our wedding photo.”
“Your dress is lovely,” Julia said, admiring the image of a younger version of her boss exchanging vows.
“I still have it, you know. I’m hoping one of my grandbabies will wear it one day.” Her boss set the picture back on the shelf and returned to her desk. “Your story on the resort did exactly what TrendList hopes every “Take Me!” review will do. Inspire the reader to visit!” Cleo clapped her hands. “Julia, I’m delighted to officially offer you a position on the ‘Take Me!’ staff. Congratulations.”
“Ah, thanks.” Julia swallowed.
“Are you ready to get started?”
She dug her notepad out of her purse. “I’m ready.”
“I hope so.” Cleo chuckled. “Now that you’ve dipped your toes in the pool, we’re going to toss you into the deep end.” Her boss booted up her laptop. “But not too deep. For this first round of assignments I think it’s best we schedule you for a few quickies.”
“Pardon?”
Cleo glanced up. “Quickies are day trips.” She slipped on a pair of reading glasses and peered closely at the screen. “It looks like we’ve got leads on locations in Dayton, Ohio; Duluth, Minnesota; and Davenport, Indiana.”
“All in one week?” Julia flinched, staring at the list of cities she’d scribbled down. “That’s a lot of travel.”
“Comes with the territory.” Cleo shifted her gaze from the laptop to Julia. “The segment is called ‘Take Me!’ As in Take me there! or Take me on vacation!”
“I get it,” Julia said. “But what about stuff closer to home? Shouldn’t we have a segment dedicated to cool places to go in the city?”
Cleo frowned. “Doesn’t Chicago already do something like this? I’ve seen a feature similar to what you’re describing on the news.”
“It is similar,” Julia agreed. “But this would be different. Better.”
“How so?” Cleo’s voice was full of challenge, but Julia caught the spark of interest in her boss’s eye.
“The bit you mentioned on the news is … well, like the news. It’s dry. The concept I’m proposing would be more engaging. Have the energy and freshness TrendList is known for.”
“What about the ‘Take Me!’ position?” Cleo wondered.
“I was so desperate to avoid getting fired I thought I was willing to do anything. Take any job you offered. I was thrilled when you suggested I pitch a story idea, and I’m so grateful to you for the opportunity.”
“But…” Cleo prodded.
Julia inhaled. “But, I’m starting to realize I’m not the best person for this job … Or maybe this job isn’t a good fit for me.” She bit her lip. She was taking a huge risk, but in her gut she knew this was the right move for her. “It’s a great job. So many cool opportunities. I feel like an idiot for not wanting it. Especially after you were generous enough to give me a chance.”
“Then why the change of heart?”
“One reason is my terrible motion sickness,” Julia admitted.
“Yikes.” Cleo laughed. “Sorry.” She sobered. “That’s not funny.”
“You can laugh,” Julia assured her boss. “It is kind of funny. Another example of my warped luck. I needed a job and the only position available requires doing something that makes me violently ill.”
A wry smile ghosted her lips. “Another reason is I hate traveling. And not just because I get sick. As a kid, I never felt like I had a place I could claim as my own. A place I belonged to. But ever since I moved here, that’s changed. Chicago is my adopted hometown. I want to explore every nook and cranny. Discover all the things that make the place I call home special.”
“I have to admit, that does sound enticing,” Cleo mused. “One problem. I’m not sure ‘Take Me Home!’ has quite the same ring.” Her boss tapped her fingers thoughtfully. “Let’s say you were in charge of this feature. What would you call it?”
“Good question.” Again, Julia found herself struggling to breathe, afraid to hope. She flipped through her notepad, frantically searching for ideas she’d jotted down in the past, skimming scraps of brainstorming sessions and daydreams. “My mission would be to cover more than what’s trendy. Go beyond what’s popular with tourists. The news can do that stuff. I want to reveal the hidden treasures of the city to the people who live here and might not realize all there is to enjoy right under their noses.”
“Get the word out about all the local places people love,” Cleo summarized.
“That’s it,” Julia exhaled, inspiration striking like lightning. She grinned, face splitting into a smile that felt as big and bright as the sun after a storm. “I’d call it ‘Local Love.’”
On Friday afternoon, Julia texted her friends to make plans. It had been a hell of a week and she needed their holy trinity of comedy, carbs, and cocktails to be her salvation tonight. She also wanted to celebrate. The past few days had been long and stressful, but rewarding, too. “Local Love” would make its official debut on the TrendList website this weekend.
Only one meal was up to the challenge. Sushi.
She ordered two of all their favorites from the tiny but awesome sushi bar around the corner from Andie’s apartment. While Julia spread everything out on the table in front of the couch, Andie opened a large bottle of Sapporo and Kat started the movie. It had been her turn to pick this time.
“After everything that happened, I can’t believe you went with Dirty Dancing,” Julia declared, working her way through her second rainbow roll. “It’s not even a romantic comedy.”
“Excuse me, but that classification is up for debate,” Kat argued. “And it’s because of what happened that I picked it. I need to reclaim one of my favorite movies as my own.”
By the time Johnny delivered the “Baby in a corner” line—looking infinitely sexier than Zach, they all agreed—Julia felt like a stuffed turkey. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this full in my life,” she groaned, rubbing her swollen belly.
“You say that every time we have sushi,” Kat reminded her, finishing off the last piece of her shrimp tempura roll.
“This time I mean it.”
“Uh-huh,” Kat and Andie said together, their tone indicating that neither of them was buying it.
“I’m serious. I don’t think I can move. You’ll have to roll me out the door like Violet Beauregarde.”
Andie poked her with a chopstick.
“Stop,” Julia warned, shoving the chopstick away. “You’re going to pop me like a big blueberry balloon.”
“Have you started taking walks like we discussed?” Andie asked.
“You discussed,” Julia grumbled.
“Hey, you’re the one who told me you wanted to improve your fitness,” Andie reminded her.
“It was a lapse in judgment. I’ve recovered my senses,” Julia said, though at this point she was teasing Andie. She’d asked her friend for help and had meant it. When she’d said her week at Notting Hill had been the most exercise she’d had in a long time, it wasn’t an exaggeration.
Memories of commiserating with Luke about being out of shape flooded Julia’s mind. A silly grin tickled her lips as she thought of how endearingly self-deprecating he could be. How much he’d made her laugh. She imagined what it might be like to work on improving their fitness together. Julia could think of plenty of fun activities that would get their heart rates up.
“Hey.” Now Kat was poking her with a chopstick. “Knock it off.”
“Why are you both attacking me?” Julia jerked away from the wooden utensil of torture. “I’m literally just existing.”
“You were thinking about him.”
“I was not.”
“Yes, you were.” Andie shook her head. “I know the look. You were totally mooning over him just now.”
Julia blew out her lips dismissively. “What are you talking about?”
“Daydreaming. Woolgathering.” Kat set her plate and chopsticks aside and stared at Julia. “Mooning.”
Julia snorted. “In my day, that word meant waving your bare ass around in public.”
“Your day was the same as my day,” Kat scoffed. “And I’ve mooned more than my fair share of people from the window of an L train.”
“I remember.” Julia giggled. “We had some good times in college.”
“We did,” Kat agreed, grinning.
“Do you ever want to go back?” Julia wondered.
“To college?” Kat’s smile turned into a grimace. “Hell no.”
“Why?” Andie cocked her head, studying Julia. “Do you?”
“Not really, no.” Julia sighed. “I do miss it sometimes, though. Everything seemed easier then. To still have your future in front of you.”
“My babcia is eighty-seven and she’d tell you she still has a future. You’re twenty-six. Trust me, your future is still in front of you.” Kat nudged her shoulder against Julia’s. “Where is this coming from, anyway? I thought things were going well.”
“They are,” Julia agreed.
“Aren’t we celebrating your new job tonight?”
“We are. We did.” Julia groaned and rubbed her sushi-stuffed belly. “I’m excited about this job. Frankly, I can’t believe it’s happening. But I also keep having doubts. Maybe it’s the echo of years of my parents asking me these questions, but I can’t help wondering if my life is headed in the right direction. Did I choose the right career path. Am I going to meet the right person … Your standard, garden-variety esoteric shit.”
“Hm.” Andie reached for the bottle of Sapporo and poured some into her glass. “You know what happens when you take enough right turns?”
“What?”
“You end up back where you started.” Andie handed the beer to Julia.
Julia stared down at the bottle, considering her friend’s words as she traced a finger over the star on the label. “Interesting point.” She refilled her glass and passed what was left in the bottle to Kat. “Do you think that’s my problem?”
“What?” Andie studied Julia. “That you’re going in circles?”
“That I’m back where I started.”
“Why do you say that?” Kat wondered.
“It’s hard to explain.” Julia puckered her brow in thought as she searched for the right words. “It’s like there’s this hole inside me, an empty space that I can’t seem to fill.” She rubbed a hand over her chest. “I can ignore it for a little while, get lost in my work, but I can’t forget about it.” She dropped her hand and sighed. “I can’t stop wondering if I made a mistake. Took the wrong turn.”
“You need to pivot,” Andie surmised.
Julia looked at Andie over the rim of her glass. “Meaning?”
“When I have my players do pivot drills, I make them keep one foot stationary and use the other to shift direction. This way, they can see every option available to them before committing.” She stood, demonstrating by turning in a circle, stockinged foot of her stationary leg spinning slowly on the hardwood floor. “The goal is to stay grounded and maintain your current position while finding the best way forward.” Andie pivoted again. “Sometimes all it takes is a small change in direction to change your perspective.”
“Listen, Andie, if you ever get tired of coaching soccer you might want to consider becoming a life coach. I’m completely serious.” Kat blinked. “Do you happen to have any sage advice for me?”
“I’m sorry.” Julia squeezed Kat’s hand. “You’ve had a pretty crappy time of it too, and I’m making everything about me.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Kat ordered, squeezing back. “Tonight, everything should be about you. You need us. We’re here. There’ve been times when we’ve done the same for Andie, and plenty of times you’ve both done the same for me.”
“Exactly,” Andie declared. “We’re going to help you figure out how to pivot.” She sat down next to Julia. “If you could change anything in your life right now, what would it be?”
“If I could change one thing?” That was an excellent question. Julia contemplated possible answers, thoughts drawn to the hole in her heart, probing the weight and shape and depth of it. “The truth? I’d keep everything exactly the same as it is right now, except Luke would be here.”
“In my apartment?” Andie’s nose crinkled.
“How can you be so smart and still have a brain full of dandelion fluff?” Kat tsked, shaking her head. “She means here with her. In this city. Chicago.” Kat turned back to Julia. “Are you sure? Sometimes what you think you want turns out to be all wrong.”
Kat’s voice held a faint dash of bitterness, and Julia ached for her friend. “I hear what you’re saying, but I just want to talk to him.” The hole in her heart burned with the sting of regret. “I wish I’d stayed and listened to what he had to say when I had the chance.”