Page 1 of The Dangers of Daydreaming (Love Connections #2)

Reality Sucks

Lucy

An office chair was not a comfortable place to read a book.

I tried to pull my legs up, and the armrests dug into my thighs.

When I attempted to recline, I almost tipped the whole thing backwards.

Which had to be similar to how it felt right before you belayed down a cliff, except I’d know I wasn’t going to fall.

Mom and I were supposed to go rappelling in Mexico a few years ago, but I’d broken my wrist the day before, so all activities were canceled, and we’d gone home early.

It was too bad, I’d really been looking forward to it.

The lush jungle around me, the breeze in my hair, and the feeling of freedom…

For a moment, lost in a daydream, I actually forgot the pain in my thighs.

Which was unfortunate because then my foot fell asleep from lack of blood flow.

I shook it out, but it just started to tingle.

I scowled. This never would have happened in my extra-deep reading chair at home.

Why, oh why, had fear of being late made me forty-five minutes early today?

Someone tapped on my office door, and my heart jumped into my throat.

Instinct took over, and I quickly tucked away my battered copy of Anne of Green Gables and shook my mouse to wake up my computer, still wiggling my foot under the desk.

Not waiting for an invitation, the knocker pushed the door open.

The very pervasive smell of a very particular cologne filled my nostrils, and I knew at once who it was .

Inwardly, I groaned. Outwardly, I greeted the newcomer. “Gary.” I nodded but didn’t look away from the screen. Instead, I pulled up a spreadsheet detailing a client’s travel itinerary and pretended to peruse it.

“Morning, Lucy. Early for the meeting?” he asked.

I couldn’t help but glance at him. How did he know about my promotion meeting?

Regardless, I didn’t want to talk about it with him; my stomach was twisting enough just thinking about it. “Coming early gives me more time to help Ellie learn the ropes,” I said, eyes back on the computer.

“I need an intern myself,” Gary said, chuckling and pushing back his thinning hair. “It would be nice to pass off some of the load. You’re lucky.”

I liked Ellie, but I wouldn’t consider her as taking away from my workload. If I said that, though, it would just prolong the conversation. “Did you need help with something?” I kept my voice neutral. I wasn’t trying to be rude; I just couldn’t help it with Gary sometimes.

He glanced at my elbow, where Anne was sticking out of a drawer. I avoided the urge to push her further in. I shouldn’t feel bad about reading on the job… I wasn’t even on the clock yet.

“Nope, just wanted to tell you good luck.”

My brows pulled together, and I actually looked him full in the face. Gary was mostly harmless. Always tried to take over my clients, occasionally made uninformed jokes, and could use a wardrobe refresh. But he was harmless.

So why did I feel a ridiculous surge of competitiveness—of a drive to prove myself to the middle-aged man—anytime we interacted?

Probably because he treated me like he’d been there for decades, and I was a new recruit, when I happened to know he’d started just one month before I did .

I was about to ask him what he meant by that when my phone started buzzing on the table.

“Ope,” he said, pointing, “Better take that. Or not, you are at work, after all.” And he slipped out the door, leaving it ajar.

My lips twisted to the side. Even with Gary’s subtle reprimand about taking personal calls at work—which, again, it wasn’t actually work hours yet—I grabbed the phone anyway. Except it was my mom.

Feeling like the scum on a doctor’s office fish tank, I tossed my phone into my purse. I almost felt worse when the buzzing stopped and had to refrain from grabbing it to call her back. For years, Mom had been one of my best friends—right up there with my five cousins—but then she’d met Brian.

And now she was marrying him.

I cleared my throat, even though there was no one to talk to, and buried myself in work until my alarm went off, telling me it was time for my meeting with Shannon. Before leaving, I turned off my computer and checked my reflection in the darkened screen.

I didn’t usually dress so fancy for work, but promotion day called for an elevation in the standard clothing, so I’d raided my cousin Poppy’s closet.

The mid-calf skirt, heels, and flowery blouse felt like the right move for the occasion.

I’d even borrowed a bracelet, though she’d tried to get me to switch to one with better meaning.

I just liked the pretty purples, I didn’t particularly care if they didn’t grant luck.

With an outfit like this, it was easy to imagine shaking Shannon’s hand and thanking her for the new position—and pay raise—then gliding triumphantly down the hall (that was why I wore the skirt, it would billow behind me like Snape’s cloak on Harry Potter ) to my new office.

With two windows. And room to turn around without knocking something off the wall or desk.

I grabbed my purse—I may need it for the pen and notebook inside, in case there were details to my new position I’d need to write down.

It was also something to hold in my hands to stop their shaking.

I couldn’t explain where the all-over tremors were coming from.

Shannon had practically promised me this promotion during our quarterly meeting last week—she’d called me a shoo-in for a position she was creating.

When I’d first joined the company three years ago, I expected to be able to move up the ladder.

Apex Travels had agents of varying levels, as well as managers and board members.

Yet, despite top performance numbers since I started, no movement had happened until now.

And while I didn’t dislike my job at all, the paycheck was pitiful.

I needed a much less pitiful paycheck.

I forced my feet to walk at a normal pace, even though I wanted to run down the wood-paneled walls to the conference room, if only to shake off some of this excess energy.

Then, almost like a toddler hiding mischief, I tucked away my excited smile and opened the doors.

But any words of greeting died on my lips when I saw it wasn’t just Shannon waiting for me.

Gary.

Of course, Gary was there, grinning at me as he spun his chair back and forth at the table. And next to him sat another colleague of ours. One so new I hadn’t even learned her name… but she always smiled when I saw her.

Why were they here in my promotion meeting?

Maybe they were part of the new program I would be in charge of?

I didn’t know a ton about it, only that it had to do with a new service our travel company would be offering.

I lowered my confused self into a chair.

A buzz indicated my phone was going off in my purse.

Cheeks heating, I reached in and silenced the call.

Shannon ignored the interruption, sitting back in her seat at the head of the conference table and smiling at us from behind red, horn-rimmed glasses. “Now that you’re here, we can get started. ”

My face went hot again, probably starting to match my hair. Had they been waiting? I wasn’t late. I was probably even a few minutes early still.

“Some of you may have heard that we’ll be expanding our company, but I wanted to give you a general idea of what that will entail before I get into the rest.” She pulled out a paper, holding it in front of her, a little closer to her face than was normal due to her aging eyes. I sat a little straighter.

“Apex Travels has decided to offer literary tours. Tours where avid readers can truly immerse themselves in the world of their favorite books. We’re thinking England tours specific to Jane Austen or Sherlock Holmes, Pennsylvania tours for Louisa May Alcott.

Any and all of the greats: Edgar Allen Poe, Ernest Hemingway, Shakespeare—you get the idea.

Tours of where they lived and the places that inspired their stories. ”

My mind spun into action at the same moment my heart picked up pace. Planning these kinds of tours would be a dream. Tours to locations like Prince Edward Island for Anne of Green Gables .

I pressed my lips together to hold back my smile at the thought.

She wasn’t kidding. This wasn’t just a promotion.

This was the promotion. I was made for this.

Years of reading, being raised on the classics…

who said your hobbies couldn’t make you money?

This was absolutely perfect. I couldn’t keep the fantasies at bay—of researching every little detail and planning every perfect excursion for my fellow book lovers—as Shannon continued explaining that, while this wasn’t a new concept, none of our competitors in Salt Lake were offering an option like it.

With the resurgence of brick-and-mortar bookstores and the growth of BookTok and Bookstagram, it was only a matter of time until someone else decided to dip their toes in this possibility.

“Which is why,” Shannon continued, her gray bob swinging as she surveyed us, “we want to get going as soon as possible.” The creases around her lips became more pronounced as she beamed at each of us .

Now it made sense that my coworkers were here.

If she wanted us to start immediately, I wouldn’t have time to build an entire team on my own.

Better to get a few in now and then prep me with a hiring budget to grow the rest of the team.

Gary might not have been my first choice, but he did know what he was doing.

My mind wouldn’t quiet down—it was bursting with possibilities.

Did I have to plan tours in a specific order, or could I do as I pleased?

How soon was soon? Frankly, I wouldn’t mind working a little overtime to get a project like this off the ground.

I forced myself to focus.