Page 30 of February (New Orleans #2)

M onica woke up with a piece of hotel stationery attached to her cheek. She also woke up sore because she had fallen asleep at the desk in her hotel room, with her laptop still open in front of her. She hadn’t done that since business school. Her alarm was blaring at her right, so she picked up her phone to silence it. She’d spent hours yesterday, first on the phone with her father and then in virtual meetings with both him and her mother, who had an opinion of her own to share. It hadn’t been a particularly kind one, but Monica had spoken her mind and hadn’t given in.

Her dad had told her that when he had someone else call Dale with the offer, the family had turned it down, saying they were giving the business to their daughter to run. They’d even been offered to go a little higher, and they’d still declined. Her father had been furious because the Musgraves had been the ones to reach out to Arnette about selling, and now, they suddenly weren’t interested. He’d wanted to know what had happened during her time there. Monica had given him only the high-level overview because she didn’t want him to think that she’d only decided against Southern Hospitality selling to Arnette because her girlfriend was the daughter of the two owners.

Her mother had been upset that Monica didn’t want to return home for the emergency board meeting. Monica had explained that she’d been promised this time off, and if her father was retiring sooner than she had expected, she would only get busier if she became CEO, so she needed to take the vacation time now. Her mother had caught on to Monica’s use of the word ‘if’ and wanted to know why she’d said that instead of ‘when,’ so Monica had had to play it off by saying that nothing was a guarantee. The board might not want her installed and might bring in someone else. Her mother had seemed to quiet then, and her father had continued on and on about how Good Day would be in trouble now, so Monica told him she’d review their numbers and see what she could do.

She’d continued arguing more than talking with them and then had also had two meetings with the president and the vice president of Good Day before she’d called her dad back to tell him that they had a way out. They’d gone over her rushed plan for the next hour or so before she’d finally disconnected from the meeting. By then, it had been well after eleven at night, and she hadn’t even eaten or showered. Still needing to think through that plan a bit more, the only thing Monica wanted to do had been to call Bridgette and tell her that she’d negotiated a little more time for them, but before she got the chance to do that, she had received two emails about Good Day that she needed to address first. So, she’d replied to them both and ended up falling asleep at her desk.

Her eyes just barely open, Monica picked up her phone to call Bridgette now, but a phone call came through for her instead.

“Aaron, can I call you back, honey? I’m in the middle of some work, and–”

“Work? It’s super early,” he replied.

“I know. But it’s important,” she said.

“I just wanted to warn you.”

“Warn me?” she asked as she stood, choosing to pace to prepare for whatever he was about to say.

“Mom is on the warpath. She’ll probably call you soon.”

“Why is that, Aaron?”

“Because I applied to Tulane, and she’s still stuck on me going to school in New York. She even tried to negotiate with me and said she could deal with NYU, but I don’t want to go to school here.”

“Okay. Well, if she calls, I’ll handle it, okay? I’m proud of you for going after what you want, though.”

“Thanks, Mom. Sorry, she’s blaming you for this. I told her that this is what I want, but she’s decided that you had something to do with this.”

“It’s not your fault. I’ll handle it, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“I’ve got to go now, Aaron. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he replied. “Oh, and how’s Bridgette?”

“ Goodbye , Aaron,” she said on a laugh and hung up.

◆◆◆

Monica had decided that it would be better to talk to Bridgette in person, so after getting ready, she’d walked to the office and let herself in.

“Morning,” Dan said with a smile.

“Morning,” she replied.

Bridgette’s desk was empty, so Monica headed to the conference room. Finding no one in there, she walked to the break room and found that empty, too.

“Have you seen Bridgette? Is she in the bathroom?” she asked Dan.

“She hasn’t been in yet. Dale’s in the office, though.” He nodded to the closed office door.

“Okay. Thanks.”

She headed that way and knocked.

“Come in,” Dale said.

Monica opened the door and said, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he replied.

“Have you seen Bridgette this morning?” she asked.

“No. You haven’t?” he asked back.

“Me? No. Why would I? I just got–”

“Bridgette told us about you two yesterday,” he said as he closed his laptop. “After you left.”

“She did?” Monica said, surprised. “Oh. I didn’t think she’d do that until the dust settled.”

She walked farther into the office and closed the door behind her.

“Well, I think the circumstances warranted it.”

“Circumstances?”

“You’re leaving soon.”

“Oh,” she said. “The company is in the midst of a transition I was not prepared for when I came here.”

“She mentioned something about that. Congratulations, by the way,” Dale said. “Do you want to sit?”

“I don’t want to interrupt. And it’s not a guarantee yet. Just because my father wants me for the role, doesn’t mean everyone does. There are two other candidates I can easily see the board picking over me. One of them is more qualified, so he’s got a good chance. If I were the board, I’d pick him.”

“You would? You wouldn’t pick yourself?” he asked.

“Oh. I was just saying that he’s got better qualifications. I grew up in Arnette, but he’s actually run two Fortune 500 companies before. He’d probably bring a fresh perspective,” she said.

“Sounds like you’re trying to talk yourself out of something,” Dale noted.

“No, just trying to think logically.”

“And are you thinking logically where my daughter is concerned?” he asked.

“No,” Monica answered honestly. “I promise you that I was not expecting this.” She laughed a little. “Bridgette sort of came out of nowhere.”

“But you care for her?”

“I do,” replied said with a nod. “A lot. She’s special.”

“She is,” Dale said. “But I’m her dad, so…” He smiled at Monica. “Have you not spoken to her?”

“Not since yesterday. I was trying to figure this out, and I’d planned on calling her last night, but I spent so much time working on this, I just fell asleep. I thought I’d talk to her in person instead, but she’s not here yet. Do you think she’s at the café? I can meet her there.”

“She’s probably not coming in today.”

“Why not?”

“She called her mother this morning and told her that she didn’t sleep very well.” Dale leaned forward. “Her mother and I assumed that was due to you two… making up, so we decided to let it go.”

“Oh, no. We didn’t–” Monica cleared her throat. “So, she’s at home?”

“I assume so. For what it’s worth, her mom and I both told her not to avoid this.”

“She’s waiting on me, I think,” Monica said. “She was probably expecting me to call last night, and I didn’t, so I need to get over there. You don’t need me for anything here, do you?”

“No, we’re all good here.”

“Okay. Well, I’m going to head over there and try to get her to forgive me for not calling last night.”

“I’ll wish you luck, then,” he said. “And, Monica?”

“Yes?” she asked as she pulled open the door.

“You be good to my little girl,” he added. “I know she’s an adult now, and she’s capable of taking care of herself, but I’m still her dad, and she’ll always be my little girl.”

Monica smiled and replied, “I have an eighteen-year-old son. I know exactly what you mean.”

He nodded at her, and Monica left the office, ordering a car as she exited the building. Then, her phone rang again. Monica rolled her eyes at the screen and thought about not answering the call, but she was waiting on her car, and the sooner she handled this, the better.

“What, Lily?”

“I’m going to fill out his application for NYU,” Lily stated without a greeting. “It’s a long shot since it’s so late, but I don’t want him to regret applying to Tulane and have nowhere else to go since he’s adamant about not going to Columbia. I know someone at Rutgers and another person at Princeton, so I’m just going to apply there, too. Not as close, but at least it’s a drive instead of a flight.”

“When will you give up?” Monica asked.

“He’s making the wrong choice.”

“It’s his choice to make. He’s an adult,” she said. “And you know what else? I find it interesting that you’ve spent years telling me – reminding me, really – that I’m not Aaron’s mother, that he already has two moms, but I’m the one you call about this stuff. I don’t hear about you calling his other mother. It’s always me.”

“You know she doesn’t want–”

“Yes. And that’s her mistake,” Monica interrupted. “But I’m tired of this, Lily. He’s applied to Tulane. You know he’s going to get in. It’s time to let this go. If he doesn’t like it, he can transfer after his freshman year. This isn’t that big of a deal. And stop blaming me . I had nothing to do with this. My dad and Aaron are close, so if he had something to do with convincing Aaron, feel free to call and yell at him . I am done, though. Oh, and don’t apply to those other schools for him. He’s only going to get mad when he finds out. If he wanted to apply there, he would’ve done it himself. You weren’t involved much in his life when he was a kid, and now, you’re clinging to what you can, trying to keep him around a little longer because you regret it, but it’s too late. You want a better relationship with him? Try showing the fuck up. Try supporting his college decision, paying for the damn university, helping him move in, visiting from time to time, and not being an asshole who thinks they rule the world. You don’t. Get the hell over it already.”

Monica hung up the phone without waiting for a reply, and when her car arrived, she climbed inside without waiting for the driver to get out and open the door for her. Once in the car, she let out a deep breath. Then, she laughed. She’d wanted to say all of that for a long time, and damn, it felt good, getting it all out at once like that. A few seconds later, the car took off, driving toward Bridgette’s apartment, and as it did, she took in the sights and smiled because she liked it down here. She knew Aaron would, too. The city had won her heart, and so had the beautiful redhead she was on her way to see.

When the car pulled up at Bridgette’s building, Monica climbed out; again, not waiting for the driver. She did thank him, though, and laughed to herself when she pictured Bridgette’s reaction to yet another town car dropping Monica off somewhere. Then, she took a deep breath and headed inside. She wished she’d thought to buy flowers or bring coffee or something because showing up empty-handed after yesterday didn’t feel right, but it was too late for that.

When she arrived at the door, she took another breath because this was a huge deal. Monica knew she was in love. Even though they’d only known each other since she’d arrived in New Orleans, she understood that she felt more for Bridgette now than she’d ever felt for Lily, whom she’d dated for a while before getting engaged and, later, married to. The butterflies she’d heard people always talk about hadn’t ever made sense to her before. There had been none with her previous girlfriends and none with Lily. There were feelings, yes – she hadn’t married a woman whom she didn’t love – but thinking about her feelings for Bridgette in comparison, she knew what those butterflies felt like now. Monica had them because she was in love. She also had them, though, because there was a chance Bridgette would tell her to leave, that she would say that she didn’t want a long-distance relationship, or that she wouldn’t hear Monica out at all.

Yet, she still knocked. As much as it would hurt – and, God, would it hurt if Bridgette didn’t want to give them a real chance – she had to at least try.

When Monica heard no sounds coming from inside the apartment, she knocked again. She hoped that Bridgette was actually home and hadn’t just lied to her mother. She also wished the woman had a doorbell because if Bridgette was finally asleep in her bedroom, she might not hear her knock. Finally, Monica heard the sound of someone walking toward the door. Then, nothing. The door didn’t open. She looked at the peephole as if she could see Bridgette standing on the other side of the door, looking through it back at her.

“Babe?” Monica said. “Can we please talk?”

“I don’t know that I want to,” Bridgette replied.

“So, you won’t even open the door for me?” she asked with a shy smile. “I fell asleep, Bridge. I was going to call you, but–” She paused. “I’d rather tell you this with the door open.”

“I didn’t call you, either,” Bridgette said.

“I know. I assumed you were waiting for me to figure this thing out with my dad.”

“I was. But I still should’ve called you.”

“Can you please open the door so that I can come in and we can talk?”