EMMA

My first day back at the publishing house is a rainy one. Go figure, I think, holding my bag over my head to protect the sleek bun I styled my hair into. I jog to my parking spot just in front of my new condo, giddy at the thought of having my own parking space, and careful not to sprain an ankle in the shiny black pumps I bought once I officially got the job.

Settling into my car, an older model that I was able to afford without taking out a massive loan, I turn the volume dial on the radio. I listen intently, hoping to distract myself from the jitters in my body. I interned at the place all summer, but this seems different. It seems real. This could potentially be my career. And if one thing's for sure, it's that I want to exceed all expectations.

As the host announces the top five singles out this summer, I feel myself wince internally. This isn't the distraction I had in mind.

"Number two on the charts today... This is 'Emma' by Beau Lewis!" As the host's voice fades into the familiar chords I've heard so many times since the song was released a couple of weeks ago, I jab at the dial with my finger, shutting it off entirely. Hearing his voice won't calm my nerves at all. In fact, my heart beats even faster than it did just five minutes ago.

Seeing Beau at Nana's funeral, it was all too much. When he walked away again, it seemed like wasting the chance I'd spent years hoping for. Asking him to coffee seemed like the natural reaction - I couldn't let him walk away, not when he was right there, in the flesh. It was easy to push him out of my mind when I wasn't hearing his voice over the radio, seeing his green eyes staring into mine. But there he was, and like always, I couldn't say no.

I've gone back and forth with myself hundreds of times since then, nearly convincing myself to call and cancel all together, before pushing the thought from my mind as quickly as it came. Because who am I kidding? It's Beau. I don't think I'll get over it if I don't go - to at least see what could've been.

I let out a deep sigh as I pull into the parking lot of the small publishing house - O'Donnell's Publishing. The owner and CEO, Shannon O'Donnell, is an older woman who inherited the company from her parents and has done a great job expanding the company as the industry has evolved. Still held in an old house renovated to suit the office needs, the environment is comfortable and inviting, one of the things that drew me in right away. It reminds me of Nadine's shop, in a way.

Pushing all thoughts of Beau and our coffee date this weekend from my mind, I grab my purse, holding my laptop and some office supplies, and hurry to the entrance to avoid getting wet.

Once inside, the foyer is exactly as I remember it - warmly lit and decorated in neutral tones, a large wooden desk sitting in one corner, manned by a young woman speaking on the phone, with a spacious sitting area in the other. Large houseplants line the far brick wall, and candles burning on the coffee table keep the room smelling like cinnamon.

"I'll be with you in one moment," The blonde on the phone at reception smiles at me professionally. I don't recognize her from last summer - she must have been hired after I left for the fall semester. She's older than me, but not by much, with light eyes framed by fashionable black framed glasses.

I smile back, and choose a seat. "Take your time." I was told to introduce myself at reception - the office manager would show me to my office, and Shannon would check in with me around lunch time to make sure that I'm settled in and to go over my duties. I grin to myself, prouder than I'll admit to have my own office.

I cross my legs and adjust the hem of my pencil skirt, eyeing the reading material scattered on the coffee table, noticing numerous of the firms big authors. Maybe one day, I'll find their next big name, I think to myself. As an intern, my tasks were pretty limited - mostly assisting with phone calls and emails. But now... I have the power to screen manuscripts, to recruit clients. My chest fills with happiness - no matter how much I love Nadine and that coffee shop, I'm so excited to be starting my own career.

"Emma Carter, I take it?" The blonde calls to me once she's off the phone, taking a quick moment to look up at me before typing something into the computer.

I stand and return to the reception desk. "That's me," I extend a hand.

"Jess," She shakes and hands me a large folder. "Here are some materials - lists of important contacts, a company calendar, some manuscripts to get you started," Jess flips through the many documents with manicured fingers. "Shannon will go over everything with you at lunch, but let me show you to your office." Her tone is hurried, but not in a rude way - she sort of reminds me of Val, always running to get the job done. I remind myself to call Val on my way home - it's been awhile.

Coming from behind the desk, Jess saunters down the hall, lined with numerous awards and signed copies of best sellers. I follow the clicks of her heels down to one of the last doors in the corridor, taking in the unfamiliar scene. Interns mainly worked out of the conference room - all lumped together around the long table on our own laptops.

"This is it," She pushes the door open, revealing a spacious room, with a large window behind the massive wooden desk. "Here are your keys," She drops them into my palm as I enter the office.

"Wow," I breathe, taking in the space. I begin planning how I'll decorate right away, spotting a good spot on the wall for my diploma already. "Thanks,"

Jess nods, "I'm down the hall if you need anything. I'll let you get settled in,"

She leaves quickly but I don't mind, too excited about my office to notice. Standing behind the desk, I begin unloading my purse, organizing the first drawer with pens, pencils, highlighters, and other things I'm sure I'll need. I let out a deep sigh as I sink into the plush armchair provided for me, and spin to face the window.

The drizzly rain is relaxing now that I'm inside, and the view is nice. The city isn't big, but it's larger than the small town I'm from, so the busy street is impressive to me, at least. I begin flipping through the folder Jess provided, still glancing out at the view every now and again, when I smell coffee coming from behind me.

Turning to the aroma that has defined my career for so long, I find a tall, handsome, dark skinned man with a welcoming smile and two steaming mugs in his hands.

"Emma, right?" He enters the office without waiting for permission and I gesture to the chair on the other side of my desk. "I'm Adam, from two doors down." He grins even wider as he places the cup in front of me.

"Thanks. Nice to meet you," I say truthfully, thankful to have someone my age working with me. "Are you new, too?"

He nods, taking a sip of his own coffee. "A friend suggested the job actually. I applied, and here I am. This is my second week. What about you?"

Graciously grabbing the mug he brought for me and warming my hands on the surface, I tell him, "I was an intern last summer. I loved it,"

"I think we're the only two new ones this year," He leans forward, dark eyes crinkling at the corners, brightening up his whole face. "At least that's what I've heard. I guess we'll see by the end of the month, huh?"

I cock my head to the side, seemingly missing some vital information. "What's at the end of the month?"

"Oh!" Adam puts his coffee down and gestures towards my folder. "May I?"

I nod, handing it over and peering across the desk.

"This thing," Adam grabs the calendar, "Is basically the most important thing you own now," He laughs, flipping through the first few pages and pointing at the boxes allotted for the final weekend in June. "See? Company retreat," He taps the calendar to emphasize his point. "I'd assume all new hires will have started by then, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, I guess so." I agree, reviewing the notes beside the event. "I guess I better buy some... um, camping gear...?" I scrunch my nose at him as I read the general description of the retreat.

Adam laughs, a sound that fills the whole office, and shakes his head. "It won't be so bad, we'll get through it."

"We'll see," I chuckle, noticing a couple of women, just a little older than myself, passing by the doorway. They don't look our way, but something about their expressions seems off to me, although I'm not sure why.

Refocusing my attention on my new companion, I take mental notes as Adam explains to me all of the unspoken rules of the break room.

***

"So how was it, Missy?" Nadine appraises me over the rim of her margarita. The bar isn't too crowded, as it's a Monday evening, but I like the ambiance so far. The bar is just a few minutes down from O'Donnell's, and Adam told me it's a favorite of our coworkers, especially on Friday evenings after work.

Unable to contain my excitement, I break into a large smile and dive into all the details of my first day, starting with the big office and my new friend, and continuing right into lunch with Shannon. "I think I'll really learn a lot from her," I explain. "I already got some manuscripts for the week,"

Nadine listens intently. "So this Adam seems nice, is there anyone else right out of college?"

I shake my head, repeating the information Adam told me about the retreat. My stomach tightens, and even though I know why, I don't want to admit it out loud.

Sensing my hesitation, Nadine smirks. "What's going on in that head, girl?" She licks sugar from her finger, before raising a hand to the bartender to let him know she'd like another.

I let out a sigh. "I have a date this weekend,"

"Miss Emma!" She swats at my arm. "With Adam?"

"What?" I shake my head. "Um, no." Feeling her eyes on my face, I fiddle with the straw in my daiquiri. "With Beau Lewis." When I finally meet her eyes, Nadine is staring at me with a pinched expression, trying to read if I'm serious, I'm sure. "Don't look at me like that," I groan.

"I'm not looking at you like anything, that's your own conscience," She shrugs. "He hurt you pretty bad," Nadine treads carefully, cautious not to treat me like a child.

"I know," I sigh. "We're just catching up is all."

"So what's the problem?" Nadine counters and I bite my tongue.

When the bartender slides her another pomegranate margarita, I order myself something stronger, thoughts of green eyes and tattooed skin clouding my mind.

The problem, I think to myself, is that I'm afraid. Afraid to go see him, and to get my heart broken again. Afraid to not go see him, and to hurt just the same.

Afraid because, without even realizing it, I've begun planning my excuses to get out of the retreat, in hopes that I'll be spending the weekend with Beau instead.