line is that I’ve been offered a job in promotions and Annie, I think I may be in over my head.”
“Well, I’ll avoid saying the obvious.” Annabelle laughed. “Just start at the beginning and tell me everything. Just give me a minute to grab a coconut water…okay, I’m sitting down. You have my full attention.”
India talked at breakneck speed, filling her sister in on the trip to Paris and the meetings with Luella and Henry. Realizing she was attracting attention from an adjoining table, she lowered her voice and whispered, “So what do you think?”
“I think you’d be mad not to take it.”
“But can I do it? Surely that’s the more important issue.”
“Of course you can. Think of all you’ve done.”
“Like what exactly?”
“Darling, EVERYTHING. Think about it – your teaching, the events you’ve produced, the workshops you designed, your guidebook, to say nothing of your somewhat unhealthy interest in fashion. You recognize designer labels I’ve never heard of; you’re obsessed. This is made for you.”
“You always make things sound so simple,” India said, but she was listening hard.
“Go for it, darling. And of course, I’m being selfish. It’d be wonderful. I could meet you in New York; we could catch a show. Why not?”
Henry, India thought. Henry would be the only reason.
“So have you and Adam sorted things out yet?”
“I think so. We’ve talked a few times and we text. I think I believe he was telling the truth, though I do wonder if he’d have taken that girl out for dinner if she’d been flat-chested and wearing Birkenstocks.”
Annabelle laughed. “Probably not,” she agreed.
“Anyway, he’s promising to take me to Cannes when he’s there on location.”
“That sounds wonderful, darling. Great. That should make up for not going to Paris.”
“It’s funny to think of it, but if he’d been with me last week, I probably wouldn’t have met Henry and Luella and all this wouldn’t be happening.”
“True. So it’s meant to be; everything’s working out. You see? Take the job. Go for it, darling.”
India said her goodbyes and clicked off. She stared at the dregs in her teacup. Her sister was always so upbeat. She didn’t know what it felt like to fail. Everything she touched turned to gold dust – her amazing career, her wonderful marriage, great kids. She never seemed to doubt herself. Annie was the one who got the confidence genes, that was for sure.
Standing up and pushing her way through the crowded café doorway, India emerged onto a street heaving with tourists. She made her way to the tube station, reflecting on their conversation.
9
Luella leaned back in the chintz-covered armchair and sighed heavily. The high-ceilinged room she had decorated with such loving care all those years ago seemed to echo around her. Each possession held a memory: the watercolor she and Peter had picked out on their honeymoon, the coffee table discovered in a junk shop when they were students, the outrageously expensive Waterford crystal chandelier Peter had splurged on to celebrate his promotion to company vice president.
Maybe she should have arranged to be out tonight after all. She’d run the possible scenarios in her head many times and eventually decided to be at home when he left. It would be cowardly to avoid him. She sat up quickly startled by a thump in the hallway as Peter put down his suitcases.
He walked into the drawing room staring around as if he were lost. He looked ragged from lack of sleep, his clothes a crumpled mess. The stress was clearly taking its toll on him. He cut such a pathetic figure that for a split second Luella had the urge to leap up and hug him, but then instantly remembered why he was there.
“How was the flight?” she asked, putting her wine glass onto the coffee table with trembling hands.
“Long.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Look Lu…” he began, running his hands through his hair awkwardly. “I never
“Well, I’ll avoid saying the obvious.” Annabelle laughed. “Just start at the beginning and tell me everything. Just give me a minute to grab a coconut water…okay, I’m sitting down. You have my full attention.”
India talked at breakneck speed, filling her sister in on the trip to Paris and the meetings with Luella and Henry. Realizing she was attracting attention from an adjoining table, she lowered her voice and whispered, “So what do you think?”
“I think you’d be mad not to take it.”
“But can I do it? Surely that’s the more important issue.”
“Of course you can. Think of all you’ve done.”
“Like what exactly?”
“Darling, EVERYTHING. Think about it – your teaching, the events you’ve produced, the workshops you designed, your guidebook, to say nothing of your somewhat unhealthy interest in fashion. You recognize designer labels I’ve never heard of; you’re obsessed. This is made for you.”
“You always make things sound so simple,” India said, but she was listening hard.
“Go for it, darling. And of course, I’m being selfish. It’d be wonderful. I could meet you in New York; we could catch a show. Why not?”
Henry, India thought. Henry would be the only reason.
“So have you and Adam sorted things out yet?”
“I think so. We’ve talked a few times and we text. I think I believe he was telling the truth, though I do wonder if he’d have taken that girl out for dinner if she’d been flat-chested and wearing Birkenstocks.”
Annabelle laughed. “Probably not,” she agreed.
“Anyway, he’s promising to take me to Cannes when he’s there on location.”
“That sounds wonderful, darling. Great. That should make up for not going to Paris.”
“It’s funny to think of it, but if he’d been with me last week, I probably wouldn’t have met Henry and Luella and all this wouldn’t be happening.”
“True. So it’s meant to be; everything’s working out. You see? Take the job. Go for it, darling.”
India said her goodbyes and clicked off. She stared at the dregs in her teacup. Her sister was always so upbeat. She didn’t know what it felt like to fail. Everything she touched turned to gold dust – her amazing career, her wonderful marriage, great kids. She never seemed to doubt herself. Annie was the one who got the confidence genes, that was for sure.
Standing up and pushing her way through the crowded café doorway, India emerged onto a street heaving with tourists. She made her way to the tube station, reflecting on their conversation.
9
Luella leaned back in the chintz-covered armchair and sighed heavily. The high-ceilinged room she had decorated with such loving care all those years ago seemed to echo around her. Each possession held a memory: the watercolor she and Peter had picked out on their honeymoon, the coffee table discovered in a junk shop when they were students, the outrageously expensive Waterford crystal chandelier Peter had splurged on to celebrate his promotion to company vice president.
Maybe she should have arranged to be out tonight after all. She’d run the possible scenarios in her head many times and eventually decided to be at home when he left. It would be cowardly to avoid him. She sat up quickly startled by a thump in the hallway as Peter put down his suitcases.
He walked into the drawing room staring around as if he were lost. He looked ragged from lack of sleep, his clothes a crumpled mess. The stress was clearly taking its toll on him. He cut such a pathetic figure that for a split second Luella had the urge to leap up and hug him, but then instantly remembered why he was there.
“How was the flight?” she asked, putting her wine glass onto the coffee table with trembling hands.
“Long.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Look Lu…” he began, running his hands through his hair awkwardly. “I never
Similar Books
