Before, There Was You Read online

  Before, There Was You

  ◆◆◆

  By Kit Harlow

  Copyright © 2019 Kit Harlow. All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any menas, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of very brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  A loud beeping tore me out of my not-so-restful sleep. I’d tossed and turned all night, nerves transforming me from a normally heavy sleeper to one woken by the slightest wrinkle in the sheets. Out of habit, I rolled over and slapped at my abused alarm clock, eyes closed tight against the sun. The beeping didn’t stop. With a groan, I opened my eyes and checked the time, fully expecting it to be just past dawn.

  “Shit!” I shouted, leaping out of bed while taking the covers with me. It was 7:45 and I had to be at work by 8:30. Frantically, I ran around my bedroom, rummaging through boxes on the hunt for something decent to wear.

  The bedsprings creaked as my husband sat up. “Liz, what’s wrong?”

  I didn’t stop moving. “I’m late. My alarm didn’t go off.” Each box was filled with nothing but scraggly t-shirts and pajamas. I groaned. Who forgets to plan an outfit for their first day at their dream job? I hadn’t even pulled out my shoes! I was so screwed!

  “David, where are my clothes?” I asked as a scurried to the closet where yet another pile of boxes and suitcases sat, still packed.

  I heard him head to the bathroom and muttered ungrateful comments under my breath.

  “I laid out your favorite outfit last night,” he said from the doorway, hanger resting on one hooked finger. He sounded tired, but not impatient and I loved him for it. My favorite deep blue button down and my nicest pair of jeans were waiting. I kissed him and headed into the bathroom to change.

  I was pleased with my transformation. I no longer looked like a scatter-brained college kid – instead, I looked like a proper journalist. Well, a journalist that hadn’t had a proper paycheck in a few months. My hair, though, was a mess. I quickly pulled the unruly dirty blonde mass into a tangled bun at the nape of my neck and headed out to the bedroom. David had pulled out my boots and placed them on my side of the bed. “Thank you,” I said loudly so he could hear from the kitchen.

  A few minutes later, I emerged into the kitchen in dire need of coffee. David passed me a steaming mug of what was regrettably the worst instant coffee in the history of mankind, but it was still caffeine. I checked the clock; it was just now 8 a.m. I barely had time to drink and run.

  “You’re a saint,” I said to him, leaning against the kitchen counter. He smiled and leaned against me.

  “You’re going to do great,” he said gently.

  Just then, my nerves hit full force. “Ugh, thanks for making it real,” I whispered and downed my coffee, ignoring the fact that I’d just scalded my tongue.

  He chuckled. “You better get going,” he said softly. “Can’t be late after all this excitement.”

  I nodded, put my mug in the sink, and grabbed my laptop bag. “I love you,” I said as I shrugged the bag over my shoulders.

  “I love you too,” he replied. With that, I headed out into the cool late summer morning.

  The sun was already bright in the sky, but the tall buildings of my Boston neighborhood cast shadows, making everything seem cooler and more metropolitan than it otherwise would. I headed down the street to the Charlie station, expecting to take the Green Line all the way to the office. I could do this, I reminded myself with every step. It was my mantra. I took the stairs to the station two at a time and practically flew into the tunnel.

  An ordinary person would have made sure she’d purchased a pass the night before, but I was no ordinary person. I was someone who got far too distracted binge-watching Daredevil for the tenth time rather than unpacking or taking care of anything practical.

  I stood in front of a kiosk and stared at the out of order sign for a moment before checking the next. And the next. Each kiosk was out of order and the three attendant booths were empty. Apparently, it was after the morning rush and staff just wasn’t needed—they’d be back in two hours. Panic set in.

  “Crap, crap, crap!” I said as I double checked the kiosk. Nope. It really was out of order. “Shit!”

  This was not my morning. The morning commute that was supposed to cost me little more than two dollars was now going to run over 20. I called an Uber.

  Luckily, the driver arrived in two minutes and we were off, heading into the heart of downtown Boston. I stared out the window and took in the scenery, trying to learn the city streets as my driver chattered about the Red Sox lineup. I was a horrible Masshole who simply didn’t care about the Sox, but I tried to make as many useful comments as I could without sounding like a babbling idiot.

  We arrived outside the building and I thanked my driver as politely as my nerves would allow. The imposing limestone building towered over me. It had been a bank once upon a time, but now was a choppy office building cordoned off floor by floor. Birds perched on the roof, cooing their odd calls out to the world. They were rounder than the birds of western Massachusetts, well-fed from the nearby cafes and generous tourists who thought feeding birds was a great use of time. This was to be my life and suddenly, it felt like a prison sentence.

  Standing on that sidewalk, I struggled to take a deep breath, to focus on not making a fool of myself. We’d see how well that went. I’d never had a first day at work where I hadn’t made one hell of a first impression. At my last job, I’d fallen down the stairs in front of my editor, my team, and the owner of the paper. They still poked fun about my fall. And it happened at least once a year thereafter almost like a commemoration of that first day.

  I paused and studied my reflection in the mirror-like window, tucked a stray chunk of hair behind my ear, and pulled at the edge of my jacket. I didn’t look quite as sharp as I’d hoped, but it would do. It was still a far cry from my usual jeans and a ratty t-shirt look. With a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and headed through the large glass double doors.

  The lobby was decorated in old, ‘90s pink carpet heavily stained from decades of wear and tear. Old beige walls showed scuff marks and reflected the general dinginess of the building. I knew the office itself was nicer, but it made my old local paper smack dab in the middle of Western Massachusetts look like the Ritz Carlton.

  I headed to the elevator and hit the call button, dashing through the doors once they opened. My heart pounded against my chest and refused to calm down as I told myself I’d be fine. Just as the doors were closing, a woman, at least I thought it was a woman, carrying a load of boxes came scurrying through the doors of the lobby.

  “Hold the lift!” she shouted in an entirely unexpected British accent. Ordinarily, I would have let the doors close, but I thrust my hand between them, sending them back into their slides. The woman scurried in, resting the large load on the handrail in the elevator. She turned to look at me and smiled. “Fourth floor, please.”

  “Me too,” I replied and hit the button again for good measure.

  She glanced at me from around the boxes. “First day?”

  “That obvious, huh?” I quipped. “I’m still getting used to city life.”

  “I’m Stephanie,”
she said quickly. “I’d shake your hand, but…” she let the pile of boxes speak for itself. I smiled, taking in her bright pink hair artfully arranged in short spikes.

  “Liz,” I replied. “Do you want some help?” I offered, staring at the tall stack of boxes.

  Stephanie sighed in relief. “Lord, yes! If you could just take the top two boxes so I can see over the stack, that would be wonderful!”

  I did as she asked and followed her into the office, trying not to feel completely out of place. I could do this. I knew I could. She led me down a hall and into a supply closet where she piled the boxes off to one side.

  “Thanks again,” she said wiping her hands on her jeans. “It’s nice to meet you,” she added, extending her hand.

  I took it and smiled. “You too,” I replied.

  “What department are you in?” she asked.

  I grinned. “Content. I’m supposed to meet with James, but I can’t remember where his office is.” I was honestly fuzzy on the details. He’d never been clear on where I was supposed to go my first morning.

  Stephanie ran her fingers through her hair and sighed.

  “That man has a way of disappearing just when you need him. Let’s see if we can’t track him down, eh?”

  She grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the hall. We moved at a brisk pace and I struggled to keep up with her despite my longer legs. After dodging a few people heading to their desks, we continued down a narrow hallway to a small nondescript door. This wasn’t the office I remembered.

  Stephanie pushed the door open and gestured for me to go in. From over my shoulder, Stephanie proclaimed, “If you can’t find James, the first place you look should always be the breakroom. He’s a coffee fiend.”

  Beneath an obnoxious halogen light was a small, but well-equipped breakroom full of tables, a sofa, and of course, a coffee maker. James stood facing the Keurig and looked as though he needed help.

  “Hey, boss. Liz is here for you,” Stephanie said and turned to me. “See you later and thanks for the help!” She scurried back down the hall before I could respond.

  James turned to me with a look of exasperation on his face.

  "Any idea how to get this thing to make a good cup of coffee?” he asked, gruff voice echoing against the walls.

  I stared at it. “Well, I can get it to work, but as far as making a good cup of coffee, no. No idea.”

  “Damn.” He sighed and put his hand out. “Welcome to The Wire,” he said with the welcoming grin I remembered from my interview.

  “Thanks.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say and was relieved when he motioned for me to follow him back down the hall. We ended up in his office, complete with one of the few windows on the floor. He motioned for me to take a seat as he headed behind the paper-laden desk. Apparently, he still had a fondness for hard copies.

  “Did you find the office alright?”

  “Mostly,” I said, once again brushing loose hair out of my face.

  “Where did you park?”

  “Nowhere. I took a cab. I don’t own a car.”

  James smirked. “Smart. Parking is expensive. Remind me to get you one of our train passes. The company gives each employee free public transit.” He rummaged around in his desk and pulled out a large pile of papers.

  “New-hire stuff,” he explained. “Mostly non-compete agreements and the like. Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he said as he passed me the stack.

  Except that I hadn’t seen anything like it before. I was essentially a country bumpkin working in the big city for the first time. My last job featured little more than a contractor agreement and a promise to meet deadlines. I simply nodded and took the pile.

  “Finish it and get it back to me by the end of the day. Now, I do have a few assignments for you. I hope you’re ready to jump right in.”

  I did the only thing I could do…mumble an affirmative.

  “Let’s get you to your desk, introduce you around, and I’ll email you the details once we get everything set up.”

  I followed him out of his office and back out into the fray. People milled around me, but they all seemed friendly enough. He led the way to a small desk off to the side of the office, mercifully close to a window. It even had a half-wall for privacy. It was my own slice of paradise. I dropped my bag into the standard black office chair and turned to James.

  “Feel free to bring whatever you need to make the space yours. Just no pets. Landlord won’t allow it,” he added with a wink. I shrugged. “Alright, let’s show you the rest of the place,” he said with a smile. “You’ll be working with multiple departments on each article. We believe in teamwork here and I don’t mean that in a half-assed way. It’s how we keep our good reputation.”

  I mumbled something positive, but I was too overwhelmed taking in the office. Each desk was full of decorations, plants, and photographs, almost like mini-museums dedicated to their owners.

  He showed me where all the important places were, the kitchen, bathrooms, and supply closet, before taking me around to individual departments. We started with my fellow writers. There were tons of them and I wondered if I’d ever remember their names, but they were all nice. There seemed to be no sense of competition and I welcomed the relaxed atmosphere.

  From there, we moved to the graphic design department. Stephanie stared at her computer screen, attention completely devoted to whatever she was working on.

  “You’ve met Stephanie already,” he said softly, “but that’s Greg, Jackie, and Danielle.” The three designers waved in greeting and went back to their work.

  Stephanie spun in her chair and smiled. “Getting the lay of the land?” she asked with a smirk. I knew then and there that we would be friends.

  “Sorta. The office is still something of a mystery.”

  “Eh,” she shrugged. “You’ll figure it out sooner or later I promise. It only feels like a maze for the first week.”

  Her eyes studied me from head to toe and while it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, it had been a while since I’d been noticeably checked out. Her gaze softened from desire to something akin to understanding. There was a kinship there that I wasn’t quite ready to admit and that feeling, more than anything else, made me want to run back to Northampton. Almost as though sensing my discomfort, James led me out of the small room and down the hallway.

  We headed towards a row of proper offices, each with its own door. James knocked on the doorframe of the first one in the row. A deep male voice told us to come in.

  James pushed to door open revealing a dimly lit closet with two desks and a large shelf full of camera gear. An old film enlarger sat on the floor collecting dust. My fingers itched to work with it. I’d played around with photography in college and knew just enough to be dangerous.

  One desk was unoccupied. Its owner was clearly out on assignment. I stared at the collection of lenses and flashes prominently displayed on a shelf above the computer and fought the urge to touch them.

  “Liz, this is Nathan, one of our photographers. Katie usually takes the other desk, but she’s out on assignment. You’ll probably meet her tomorrow. Since you’re covering culture and entertainment, you’ll be working with her most often.”

  The tall and slender man stood up and held out his hand.

  “Everyone calls me Nate,” he said with a smile. “Welcome to the team.”

  I shook his hand and smiled. “Thanks. It’s all a bit overwhelming.”

  He grinned. It was a smile that probably broke hearts. Why was everyone here so striking? I felt out of place and overly conscientious of my unruly hair and rather plain face.

  “You’ll be fine.” He turned to James. “I’ll have those shots ready for you by 3.”

  James nodded and turned to head out of the office. I once again followed like a lost puppy. We swung by my desk and James promised to send me the info for my assignments. While I waited, I set about filling out the paperwork he’d given me and lost myself to contracts and legal jar
gon for a few hours before typing out a draft of an article covering the latest recipient of the Taste of Boston award.

  James swung back by a few hours later.

  “I see you’ve settled right into the flow,” he said casually. I tried to smile and look relaxed, but I doubted very much that it worked.

  “I’m trying,” I replied with a forced grin.

  He laughed. “Anyway, Nate wanted to talk to you about your next assignment. He’s going to be shooting a few images and wanted to know if you had any requests.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. “I’ll head over before I leave today.”

  James nodded and left. I leaned back and studied my to-do list. It was already extensive and it was 5:00. I should call it a day. Still, I headed down the office to find Nate before I left.

  Stephanie intercepted me halfway between my desk and the photography office. I got the distinct impression that she was on her way to see me.

  “How was your first day?” she asked with a chipper smile.

  I grinned back. “It went. I’m already feeling overwhelmed, but I’m guessing that’s normal.”

  She smiled and ran her fingers through her short hair, something I was starting to believe was a nervous habit.

  “Yeah,” she acknowledged, voice tight. “My first week, I worked overtime just to stay on top of things. Took me a month to realize that wasn’t necessary. It’s just how things work.”

  I made an empathetic grimace. “I’m hoping to avoid that as much as possible,” I replied. “Anyway, I need to go talk to Nate about an assignment. See you tomorrow?”

  Stephanie nodded and started to walk away. After a few steps, she turned back around.

  “Hey,” she said softly. Her hands were tucked tightly in her back pockets. “Any chance you’d be interested in grabbing dinner this week?”

  I felt my face turn bright red. “Oh,” I said somewhat surprised. Stephanie’s face fell.