Page 8 of No Such Thing as Serendipity

Yesterday, it’d been a blow losing Nancy, but today, I was more determined than ever. The tiny setback wouldn’t defeat or define me. It was my catalyst. My catapult into something better.

I’d received messages from colleagues, hinting of the rampant speculation concerning me, but I had no intention of confirming anything. They weren’t my friends. They were my competition, so the less they knew, the better.

With renewed determination, I’d expanded my search.

Who said I had to stay in New York? I could go to Boston, LA, or Chicago.

If I landed in Chicago, maybe I could convince Nancy to rejoin me.

I’d even found a couple of possibilities in San Francisco.

To make the deal, Terrence must have been working with MetaForce for a while.

If he’d only told me, I could have moved with Marta.

Nah, in this case, he’d done me a favor.

She’d shown how little she regarded me. So good riddance.

I should order something to eat. Sleep and nutrition were important to keep my mind sharp. As I reached for the phone, it rang. It didn’t just ring, but the familiar ringtone filled the air. A ringtone I hadn’t heard in months.

Marta. What were the odds? Was this Emma’s serendipity? I’d looked at companies in San Francisco, and now Marta was calling. Hmm.

I finally answered. “Hello?” I said, pretending not to know who was calling.

“Blake.” Marta’s perky voice filled my ears. “It’s Marta. Long time no talk.” She let out a nervous giggle.

“Ten months” spilled out of my mouth before I thought through my response.

Marta chuckled. “You always were so precise. I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing, how you’re holding up.”

Holding up? That was a peculiar greeting from someone I’d not talked to in months. How should I respond?

“I mean...” Marta never liked silence, so she couldn’t help but fill the void. “I heard.”

And there it was. My humiliation had already spread across the country. No, that wasn’t possible. I needed to play this cool. “Heard what?”

“That Terrence is selling Fortitude and you’re out.” Leave it to Marta to get straight to the point. “Did I hear wrong?” she asked when I didn’t respond right away.

“No.”

“No, it’s not true, or no, I didn’t hear wrong.”

“Your source is correct.” My tone was formal, but until I knew her angle, I wouldn’t say much. “May I ask who your source is?”

“Umm, a friend...uh, one I met out here. She works for Titan.”

Shit. Titan was a company in San Francisco I’d earmarked.

Coincidence? Emma would say no. Was this what was supposed to happen?

As soon as I was unemployed, poof Marta called.

Was she sniffing after me, wanting me back?

This wasn’t anything I’d considered for my future, but I supposed I could do worse.

“She’s the CEO,” Marta added.

Hmm. Even better. “How ironic,” I said. “I’ve been creating a shortlist of companies I might pursue, and Titan was on it.”

“Oh, you’d move to San Francisco?” Her voice rose an octave.

Excitement? Were her wheels spinning like mine? “Yeah, a change of pace might be welcome.” I didn’t want to push it too fast. Let her broach the topic. Let her beg me for another chance.

“Wow. I never thought I’d hear that come out of your mouth. You rejected every one of my suggestions.” And there it was, the unfiltered Marta.

I pursed my lips when I realized her wheels didn’t seem to be turning in the same direction as mine. Was she dating someone else? No. She couldn’t be over me this soon. “Well—”

“I mean, you said you’d never, uh, leave New York. And…”

My exact words were the only way I’d leave New York City was in the back of a hearse. A little excessive, but I’d spewed it during the heat of one of our many arguments.

Ah, she must be shocked. I just needed to give her a couple of minutes to digest the information.

If Emma was right, Marta calling to rekindle our relationship must qualify as a serendipitous event.

Or maybe not since Marta knew I was without a job.

Was this her manipulative calculation of how to draw me back in? I could do worse.

Channeling Emma, I said, “Sometimes things happen for a reason. Now I just need to determine why.” It gave her a perfect segue.

I waited for her to say, perhaps I’m the reason. In my mind, I tossed around my response. Should I keep it simple and just say, perhaps? Or should I say something romantic? Not that it was my style, but surely, I could pull some greeting card phrase out of my ass.

“…in October. I’d love for you to attend.”

Wait. What? “Attend what?”

“My wedding, doofus. Were you listening?”

“Uh, yeah, your wedding.” When the hell had she started dating?

“You probably think it’s kinda sudden since we’ve only been dating for nine months, but when you know, you know.”

What the hell? Nine fucking months. A month after our breakup, she began dating. How low was that?

“You’re welcome to bring a date.”

Now she was gloating. I’d dated no one since she’d left. Not that it had anything to do with her. I’d been too busy, but still.

“It’ll depend on where I’m working,” I said, regaining my footing.

“Patti could put in a good word for you with Titan.”

She was giving me whiplash. “Who’s Patti?”

“Uh, I just told you. My fiancée, Patti. She’s the CEO of Titan.”

Fucking shoot me now. I would never let Marta’s fiancée set me up in a job. That would complete my fall from grace. “Oh, did you say Titan? I thought you said Titus.” I let out my derisive snort. “I’d never work for Titan.”

“Oh, well, she seems to like it. Anyhow, I’d love for you to meet her. She loves spreadsheets as much as you do.” Marta let out her carefree laugh.

It crystallized. She’d gone out and found a replica of me.

“But that’s where the similarity ends,” Marta said. “She’s a stickler for a work-life balance, and she’s instilled it in the culture.”

“And that’s why I’d never work for them,” I snapped. “No way anyone gets ahead with that laissez-faire attitude.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Marta’s pleasant tone turned harsh. “Titan was featured in Forbes as one of the top new companies with a female CEO.”

I knew it since I’d been researching the stupid company. “Hmm, that’s surprising,” I said, hoping it came out unimpressed.

“It didn’t surprise me.” Her defensiveness was evident. “Patti is brilliant.”

Ouch. Shove the knife in a little farther and twist it. We’d set a new record. Ten minutes into our conversation, and we were at each other’s throats.

Regardless, I needed to save this conversation for Marta’s sake. Besides, I didn’t need the CEO of Titan blackballing me.

“I bet she’s wonderful.” I nearly choked on my words. “And I was remiss in not congratulating you.” Barf.

“Aw, thanks.” Her tone was no longer defensive. “I know you have to be stressed beyond belief.”

“Ha. Me. Never. Ice water in my veins.” I sat up straighter as I spoke, as if it would make the words true.

Marta chuckled. “Sure you do. Well, I just called to check on you. I wanted to let you know I’m here if you need to talk.”

Typical Marta. After my jackass moves, she was right there offering her help.

“Thanks, but I’m good. Real good. In fact, I’m thinking of taking some time off—an extended vacation.”

“Really? That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, Emma’s been after me, but I’m still trying to figure it all out.”

“How fun.” I imagined her clapping her hands like she did when she was excited. “I miss Emma. But I love seeing her posts on Instagram. Her and the family. I hesitated commenting, unsure if it was okay.”

Marta still followed Emma? Instead, I said, “You should comment. Emma would love that.”

“Ya think?”

And just like that, Marta shifted the conversation away from my struggles to Emma.

I’d paced around my apartment for an hour after ending my call with Marta, but no epiphany came. In my dark mood, the view of Central Park didn’t inspire me. Today, it just looked like a sad spot of green surrounded by buildings.

Damn it. I needed to end this pity party. Big deal if my ex-girlfriend was getting married. It wasn’t like we were compatible, anyway.

It was all Terrence’s fault. This thing with Fortitude had me messed up, but I’d show them. I stomped into my office and grabbed the bag I’d abandoned. For a second, I considered drop kicking it across the room. Mature. Instead, I carried it to my desk and tossed it on top.

It hadn’t escaped me I’d not unpacked it. Since it contained only two items, it wouldn’t have taken me long. Still, it sat in the corner untouched. Before opening it, I took a deep breath. I could do this.

I pulled out the picture and set it to the left of my computer.

It wasn’t centered, so I pushed it a few centimeters.

Nope. With the tip of my finger, I nudged it.

Perfect. The picture was from our trip to Disney World when I was eleven.

It was taken before my world turned upside down.

Emma and I wore Mickey Mouse ears and sported huge smiles.

Mom and Auntie Bess had on Goofy ears, and their smiles were even bigger than ours.

I turned away from the picture and took out my cherished notebook. I hesitated to open it, not wanting to be taunted by the empty checkbox next to Become CEO of a multimillion-dollar company.

My heart raced. What if I’d checked the box, and then I hadn’t gotten the job? Seriously? Doubtful that the notebook police would arrest me for improper checking. No, maybe it would be the ambition militia, citing me for falsifying accomplishments.

Now on top of losing my job, I was losing my mind.

I slammed the notebook on my desk and glared at it.

After several seconds of it innocently staring back at me, I flipped it open.

I grabbed a pen, clicked the ballpoint out, and held it over the offensive item.

The pen dug into my fingertips as I gripped it tighter. I’d cross the son of a bitch out.