What the hell was I going to do?
***
My desk seemed lonely, despite the fact that I had plenty of work to keep me company. Every time I totaled up a sales column, I thought about what Sam had said about the numbers being that much greater in the past. I kept imagining the huge number of zeroes extending beyond the page onto the desk and then spilling onto the floor...
This wasn't going to be easy, and frankly, I was going to need some outside perspective—and not Jesse's this time—if I was going to get anywhere. I still didn't want to ask Jack just because of this development, especially not when we were supposed to be apart. I actually cared about the relationship more than this, but my professional urges had led me to this treacherous point. Even if it wasn't actually treacherous, it felt that way.
I was sympathetic toward Sam's situation as well. Honestly, I didn't want to take sides in business transactions I barely understood. I wanted everyone to be happy. Why was that so difficult? Wasn't there something that would satisfy everyone's requirements? Jack sounded just as bull-headed as Sam, and I wasn't sure if I should be critical of either of them.
I thought about it around two hundred times per hour for the rest of the day, my head like a piece of dilapidated machinery that would soon be permanently out of service at the rate it was working. Sam didn't bother me again, another reason why I got so carried away. And then my phone buzzed. It was a text from Jack.
Him: Come with me on a quick weekend trip. Please don't say no.
I set the phone on the table like it weighed a thousand pounds. Opportunity had come knocking in the best possible way, but I still felt apprehensive about giving up on my plan. Still, despite my workplace goals, I couldn't stop thinking about him each and every night—that, and my hope that the deal would work itself out naturally was evaporating fast.
Me: Okay, I'll go. But no tricks.
My eyes were on duty watching for Sam. He never left his office.
Him: I promise. Pack before work. A car will be there to get you at 5:30 on the dot. See you tomorrow, Effie.
My heart fluttered. I wanted to return the thanks, but didn't feel that it was necessary. Maybe it would give me some extra bargaining chips if I sounded like I was going out of the way for him, bending my very tenuous and wobbly rules just for him.
I wanted him to think that I was going because I wanted to go, not because this situation with Sam had turned my life into a very complex game and I didn't know how to make my next move.
But who was I kidding? Appearing excited would be easy, because I was excited. My heart was racing at the prospect of a weekend with Jack after four very long days apart. By this point, I was really craving Jack's professional input. I was certain he'd have something to say that would put me at ease right away.
Well, I hoped it would be the case. And if not, seeing him would be really nice.
***
I packed that night, not really sure what I was packing for. The summer weather could be unpredictable—you never know when a storm might pop up and try to drown you!—so I decided to include a full array of outfits, a couple for heat, a couple for if it got cool, and something fancy in case Jack had some extravagant surprise for me that involved an upscale party. Oh, and a rain jacket.
The whole time I packed, I wanted to call him and ask him what was up. But part of me craved a nice surprise more than anything. I think I needed that more than I needed more information.
Even though I didn't know what was coming, I slept soundly, the mere fact that I'd see Jack the next day enough to put me into peaceful slumber. The game had changed, and so had my short-term goals.
It was just the way the world worked, the way life worked. Whenever you planned for something specific, there was always some variable you overlooked, some crucial element that transformed the situation into an entirely different animal. The variable might be simple, life-threatening, or somewhere in the middle.
The result might be obvious, or a dreaded gray area. Sometimes not knowing was even worse than the possibility of a bad outcome because you just didn't know what to do. If it was the worst scenario and you knew it, at least you could respond.
Jesse had given me much-needed perspective, for sure. Those were angles I hadn't considered in the least prior to speaking with him. And now, there was the angle of the label going under and everyone losing their jobs. It was probably just Sam being overdramatic, but what if he was right? I didn't have an answer to this, and my desire to act apathetic wasn't going to cut it. I cared, even if I was trying to act like I didn't.
Jack would clear this up. I was sure of it.
Even though there were risks involved with seeing him, what difference did one weekend really make?
Friday went by quickly without any serious incident. Sam seemed at ease, but once again, no talk of a deal. He had a meeting with another artist that afternoon; he didn't let me sit in on that one. I hoped that having a meeting meant good news, but chances were it didn't actually amount to anything.
When I left, I felt something different than I had ever felt before when leaving the office. Something was changing, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. The feeling wasn't good or
