This was going to be more of the same. Jessica could just feel it. Yes, there it was, the panicky sensation rising in her chest.
What moment of madness had made me agree to this?
Right now it felt as if, after that initial glance, it would have been better—so much better—if she had just junked the email that had brought her to New York City as one of those endless variations of the Nigerian orphaned princess scam.
Dream job this time. Dream man last time. Did she always have to be the sucker for a dream?
She cast a desperate glance back at the doors that had just whispered closed behind her, but saw that reentering the Customs area was strictly forbidden. What would she do if she managed to go back through the doors, anyway? Demand to be sent home, like a child who had found summer camp not to her liking?
She’d been invited to a job interview here in New York City. Of course, she already knew she couldn’t take it. Even if it was her dream job, which it most definitely was. She had her life and it was a totally satisfactory life. She was successful, she was a respected member of the community. Who was always the keynote speaker at Career Day at the Timber Falls High School?
No, a job in New York City, at this point in her life, was out of the question.
And yet, here she stood, as if pulled by an invisible cable. She’d been up front with the marketing firm Jensen, Henry and Ascot that she wasn’t in a position to take the job. But they had been persuasive. Why not just come? Have the initial discussion? See some of New York City? And then, an airline ticket, and a reservation confirmation for three days at a posh Manhattan hotel had been sent, as if that was all settled.
No one could say no to that. Could they?
And yet, standing here, exhausted—it took longer to travel from Timber Falls than the time she would spend in Manhattan—and not quite knowing what do next, Jess felt regret at being so impulsive. It never paid off for her. Other people could embrace spontaneity, but it seemed as if it just wasn’t a good fit for her.
Something wasn’t ringing true about all this and she should have paid attention to that feeling instead of being persuaded by Aubrey’s ever chipper Australian voice coming over the line, chiding her.
Is something not ringing true, or do you just believe good things can’t happen to you?
Daisy, while pleased that Jessica had decided to accept the trip to New York, had said rather gleefully, Looking at a new job is like going to the pet store and looking at puppies. You’re already partway committed to taking one home with you.
What if it proved harder to resist the temptation than Jessica anticipated?
It wasn’t going to be that hard to resist if her first few minutes in New York were any indication. The Customs lineup had been slow, the official had been unnervingly unfriendly and, now that she had been admitted to the country, the crowds were crushing, and her stomach was growling. And as far as she could see, there was no one here to greet her.
Her tablet case and her purse were strapped securely to the pull handle of her carry-on bag. She turned to it. She fished the piece of paper from the outside pocket of her purse and looked at it.
The letter instructed her she would be met at the airport by James Gilbert-Cooper, Chief Operating Officer of Jensen, Henry and Ascot, a marketing firm that had a division that exclusively handled bookstores. The man could potentially be her new boss!
But not if this was his idea of making a good first impression. Leaving her hanging.
It’s been two minutes, Jessica chided herself. She forced a deep breath, and a change in attitude. She was sure Aubrey, her irrepressible Australian friend, would invite her to turn it all into a game.
Okay. What would someone with a name like that look like? Old, she decided. And very proper. A vested suit and a bow tie. Definitely glasses. Round-framed ones.
Jessica looked around nervously. She couldn’t see anyone who looked like she expected Mr. Gilbert-Cooper to look.
What if he didn’t come? Should she wait? Call the number on the letter? Surely the office would be closed. Should she take a cab to the hotel she had the reservation at? Didn’t cabdrivers take advantage of people like her? Despite her best effort to look sophisticated, Jessica felt she was probably telegraphing that she was from a different country and a small town. Did cabdrivers have to pass some kind of test of their driving skills? What if she was killed in traffic? And what about their character? What if she was driven to a remote location and—
Stop it! Jess ordered herself.
She made herself think of Aubrey and Daisy, and the wonderful connection the three of them had enjoyed since Copenhagen—thank you very much, WhatsApp. Both women had encouraged her to come, and hinted that maybe they thought Jess tended to play it too safe, and make her world too small. It was funny what close friends they had all become, despite the fact they came from different parts of the globe and had very different lifestyles. Still, Jessica confided things to them that she would not have dreamed of saying to any of the people she shared a life with on a daily basis.
Take a chance, Aubrey had insisted after Jess had received the intriguing email and determined it was not a hoax.
Too late, Jess was remembering almost those exact same words—from other well-meaning friends—had led her to the disaster in Copenhagen with Ralph.
Jessica took a deep breath, and searched the sea of faces waiting in the arrivals area. None of them seemed to fit her idea of James Gilbert-Cooper, and none of them seemed particularly interested in her.
I’ll be wearing a red
