Page 89 of The Game Plan

“I’m going to assume that’s rhetorical.”

Well, it is, and it isn’t. Because I cannot believe what I’m looking at. “I made thirty thousand dollars on a dining set?”

Jackson gives me a bored look. “Honey, this is Manhattan.You create furniture like that and sell it to the right people, you’d better be making thirty large. At the very least.”

My lips feel numb. “I had no idea. I mean, I know how much we pay for our clients’ furniture, but I didn’t expect I’d makethis much. I’m hardly a known name.”

“Not yet. ButIam, and I know how to sell. As for you, this is only the beginning, Fi-da-lee.” Jackson’s expression goes serious. “Honey,I’m never going to have kids, so you’ll have to humor me as my surrogate.”

Smiling, I kiss his cheek. “Papa Jackson. Can I fill out my Christmas list now?”

He gives my shoulder a nudge. “I wasn’t finished, cheeky. Come work with us, Fiona. Make your furniture, and we’ll sell it.When you’re established, you can go it on your own.”

For a second, I can only stare at him. “You’re serious.”

“As a personal trainer on New Year’s Day.” His smile is soft. “Be your own boss and forge your own path.”

Just beyond Jackson’s shoulder, the lights of New York glitter. It’s as familiar a sight as my own face, and yet it neverfails to fascinate me. But I want more.

“Do I have to be here in New York?”

“Setting up camp elsewhere makes it trickier, but honey, we’ll make it work.” Jackson’s smile grows sly. “And there’s a certainsouthern city that’s ripe for the picking, especially when one has contacts in the area.”

Thirty-One

Fiona

Sitting alone in the office, I let the quiet ground me. All is still, the sounds of Manhattan a distant hum. I glance outthe window toward that gray light. I love this city. Love it with all my heart. But I’ve been happy other places as well.

And I’m no longer happy here. Was it Elena’s fault? Yes and no. Yes, she made my life misery. But it wouldn’t have matteredif I truly loved my job.

I know the world is full of Elenas. I’ll meet her type time and again, unfortunately. The question is: What do I want to fightfor? Felix’s approval? No. I have no respect for him anymore.

Turning in my seat, I slide my hand over my portfolio, the leather smooth under my palm. A small smile pulls at my mouth.It’s bittersweet. Maybe I’m doing the wrong thing. I don’t know. I thought I’d have a better sense of my life’s path whenI graduated college, that everything would be clear.

I loved college. Loved it. Life was one big party, peppered with frantic bits of studying in between. I didn’t take anythingtoo seriously, and that was just fine. I had time. Because, let’s be honest, being in college is safe—a bit like high school but without parental supervision.

But now? Nothing is safe. I’m swinging along without a net. And it feels surprisingly good. Exciting. Yeah, I might fuck upspectacularly. I might never find what I’m looking for in terms of a career. But I do have one thing.

Ethan. He’s mine. All mine. It’s surprising how completely satisfying that is. And terrifying. If I slip and fall with him,down I’ll crash, all broken and damaged. But at least I want to fight for him.

I used to think maybe a guy would make me whole. But that’s not really the truth. It’s up to me to figure my shit out, butEthan makes the struggles easier to bear. He’s my reward when it’s all said and done.

And this place? I’m done with it.

There’s only one thing left to do.

“Fiona?” As if summoned, Elena walks around the corner and notices me sitting at her desk. “What are you doing here?”

Reflexively, my palm pushes against the cool leather of my portfolio. “I was waiting for you.”

Her steps slow, and I wonder if she’s onto me. I give her a bright smile, the same one she’s given me for months.

“I wanted to ask your opinion on something.” My hand is steady as I flip open the case and pull out a stack of drawings.

She hesitates, her hand hovering and a frown on her brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I quit this morning, and I’m thinking of using these for my résumé.”