Page 3 of Accidental Getaway

The next morning, I settle at my desk with a cozy blanket and power up my computer, just in time to join our weekly staff meeting.

Amber started Aspen Sky Marketing three years ago as a start-up agency with a focus on independent boutique hotels, resorts, and small visitors’ bureaus like the one in Telluride.

Though she started as a one-woman show, she has hired four associates, including Piper, and then me as her full-time assistant.

My job consists of proofreading, admin work, taking meeting notes, setting up new clients, billing, and helping out when a project is more than an associate can handle on their own. But right now, my biggest duty is making sure everything is set for Amber’s maternity leave next month.

To start the meeting, Amber announces that she has a few scheduling conflicts to discuss with the team.

“As some of you know, I’ve been in communication with a hotel in Greece I am very excited about. But we haven’t signed on the dotted line yet because the board of investors have decided they want to hear all proposals at a board meeting before the general manager can sign a contract.”

Greece. Wouldn’t that just be a dream. Too bad for Amber that all of our client meetings are held virtually these days. I’m sure this will involve joining the board meeting via webcam.

Amber continues to discuss the needs of the hotel, which is being rebranded after a change in ownership.

I think one of the hardest things about this job is holding my tongue; I’m just supposed to be taking notes.

When I was at Prewitt Luxury, I worked on quite a few hotel rebrands.

They were all big chains, rather than independent properties, but there can be a lot of overlap, particularly in target audiences and performance metrics.

On a particularly challenging project I worked on with a resort in Mexico that had experienced a few unfortunate incidents involving spring breakers, they were trying to reposition themselves as a family hotel.

When travelers were not biting, we ended up procuring a commercial spot during a nationally televised sporting event showcasing families having the time of their life.

Bookings skyrocketed. We celebrated at Chicago’s nicest steak house after that one.

“I am looking for someone who would be able to take this on next week,” Amber goes on.

I jump, ready to take notes again. I need to pay attention to who gets this assignment so I can make the necessary scheduling allocations.

“The board convenes quarterly, and the next meeting is on the fifteenth. You’ll being working closely with the general manager to plan the proposal. He wants to be heavily involved in preparations.”

No one on the call says anything. Most are looking down, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Does anyone have the availability? It would really help me out. ”

Still, silence. What is going on? Did I miss something? This is a big deal assignment. I would kill for it.

Wait. Could I … Maybe this is what I’ve been waiting for.

If no one will hire me because of my lack of experience, maybe getting experience here at Aspen Sky is what I need.

A simple presentation over video. I can handle that.

I could even rent a co-working space to make it more official-looking than my bedroom or the library.

If I nail this, Amber will have no choice but to hire me as an associate, right?

And once I put that on my résumé, I could finally get a new job and get out of my parents’ house after a year or two.

My knee starts bouncing. In a moment of pure adrenaline and little bit of recklessness, I slam down the spacebar to unmute.

“I could do it!” I spit the words out before I can stop myself, speaking over Amber, who is, at the exact same time, saying, “I would do it if I could, but of course, the pregnancy.”

She shrugs and what she said registers in my brain. What does being pregnant have to do with negotiating a contract? Her maternity leave isn’t scheduled to start until after the meeting.

“Jenni? Was that you? You can do what?”

I frantically scan the other faces on my screen for a hint at what Amber might have meant. I come up empty.

“Um, I could take over preparing the proposal? I know I’m just an assistant, but I have experience. Only if no one else can do it, of course … just trying to be helpful.” I clench my jaw to keep myself from continuing to backpedal before Amber responds.

Amber’s face lights up and I can practically see the wheels turning in her mind.

“That’s not a bad idea,” she comments, and then mutters to herself for a moment. “Are you sure? It’s kind of a lot to take on for a first timer. ”

Am I sure? Absolutely not. The only thing I’m sure about is that it feels like every single person on the meeting is now staring at me. They’re all expecting me to say yes, so I do.

“Absolutely,” I reply. I can’t back out now, even though my surge of confidence is waning at a rapid pace. “I’ll get to work right away.”

Amber seems to be considering me. I don’t know if it’s because she can tell I’m desperate or if she’s trying to decide whether I can actually pull it off.

“That’s fantastic, Jenni.” She smiles. “I’m sure the GM won’t mind if you go to Greece in my place. I’ll touch base with him after our meeting and get the ball rolling.” Then, after a beat, she says, “Great initiative! Everyone, take note. I love to support people who ask for opportunities.”

I’m frozen. Stiff as a board. In fact, I might be DOA.

Go.

To.

Greece.

That ’s what pregnancy had to do with it? She couldn’t travel to Greece for the board meeting because she’s too far along in her pregnancy?

All the adrenaline and courage that was just coursing through my veins sinks to my feet and turns into lead, anchoring me to the floor. I want to crawl back into bed.

I know it’s not the reaction one would expect when someone’s boss wants to send them to a freaking Greek island. I should be elated. I should be jumping up and down. But the prospect of having to be in a room with the board of the hotel makes me feel like I’m going to throw up.

E-mail is one thing. Phone calls and video calls are even digestible.

But my stomach flips and turns as I picture standing in front of a room of businessmen, desperately seeking their approval and knowing that I’ll never get it.

Knowing that one wrong word could have them turning on me just like what happened in Chicago. The helplessness fills me with terror.

Amber moves on to the next topic of discussion, but all I can focus on is determining how badly I have screwed up. This is bad. So, so bad. Thankfully my laptop camera is the epitome of low-def, and no one on the call can see the panic I’m sure is written all over my face. At least I hope not.

My computer pings and a chat box flashes open.

Piper: O. M. G. JENNI!!!!! Holy cow! That was gutsy AF. You are going to GREECE! I bet you could extend your stay a bit. Island hop. You are going to be a total GODDESS!

My fingertips hover over the keyboard. My mind and body aren’t connecting. I wouldn’t be able to make my hands type out a message even if I knew what to say.

Why did I think this was a good idea? I can’t do this. I should have recognized the risks. The last time I was in a meeting flashes to the surface—the heart palpitations and nausea as the client ripped me apart in front of my superior, my boyfriend.

Finally, I manage to connect the synapses in my brain and slowly type out a response.

Jenni: Yeah. I did not realize it was a trip. I was distracted. I can’t go. Do you think Amber is going to hate me?

Piper: What?!? Why can’t you go??

Piper: Amber isn’t going to hate you. Because unless there’s a wedding or a funeral, you are going to rearrange your schedule and go to Greece.

A wedding or a funeral … there’s an idea. I can fabricate a co usin. A cousin who is more like a sister and she’s getting married in California. But no, that will never work. Piper knows I don’t have a cousin. She’s the only person remotely close to being a sister to me.

I grab my water bottle just to have something to keep my hands from shaking.

But instead, I knock it over with my fumbling, nervous energy.

Water floods my notebook and gets dangerously close to my laptop.

I toss the computer onto the couch and use the blanket in my lap to sop up the spill.

So much for people not witnessing me freak out.

Piper: Hello?! Where’d you go? Does this have anything to do with that stupid ex? You have to stop giving a crap about that guy and what he may or may not have thought about you.

I throw the wet blanket on the floor and pull my computer back onto my desk. I read Piper’s message, and my stomach lurches at the mention of Malcolm. I can practically feel his cold eyes on me.

Jenni: Ew. No. Of course not. I just can’t go. It doesn’t matter why. I’ll talk to Amber. I’m sure it will be fine. Someone else would be way better for the job anyway.

I watch the chat, hoping she doesn’t see right through me. The words Piper is typing … appear and disappear while I debate saying more.

I try not to think about Malcolm, but the way he looked at me when I spoke out of turn and pissed off that client has burned such a deep hole that it’s impossible not to.

Malcolm somehow manages to creep his way into every decision I make, even still.

I can’t get him out of my head. It feels like he’s waiting around every corner and mocking my every move.

Last week, I got a card in the mail with no return address. I opened it and Malcolm’s smug face smiled up at me from an engagement announcement. It was even personalized, letting me know that he’s officially off the market—barely six months after we split.

It was like he knew I was having a particularly good week and wanted to pop that bubble before it could get too big.

I never intended to get back together with him, ever , so how dare he act as if I would need this information? And while it made me furious, it also freaked me out. He remembered where my parents lived. He was still keeping tabs on me.

Finally, the chat pings.

Piper: Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t say anything to anyone. Especially not Amber. I’ll call you as soon as this meeting is over.

Then ten seconds later…

Piper: You deserve this, Jenni. Don’t throw it away. This is your chance.

I minimize the chat, grab a new notepad, and intend to pay attention to the rest of the meeting.

But then the engagement announcement pokes at my brain, urging me to pull it out of my desk drawer.

I double-check that his new fiancée still looks just like me but better—smaller curves, longer dark wavy hair, and a prettier round face. It’s unsettling.

Honestly, seeing him this way, all I feel is regret.

I wonder if I would have even dated him if I hadn’t been so desperate for approval in college.

I was a brand-new intern and the dreamy, charismatic son of the head partner of my firm was interested in me.

How could I say no to that? I thought it meant I was special—that I had what it takes to make it in that world.

But looking back, it’s clear he only saw someone desperate enough to let him walk all over them.

He practically said as much when we broke up the third or fourth time. I lost count .

“You were so easy. You practically begged me to take you out. It was pathetic.”

What if I hadn’t ever said yes? What if I had never let him into my life to turn it upside down and rip it apart at the seams?