Page 43 of No Time for Traditions

She’d stood up for her writing and taken a chance. And Cassandra wouldn’t even take the time to read what she’d written. After all her hard work and long hours. Brittany dropped into her chair and crossed her arms. There had to be a better way. She couldn’t allow herself to stay in editing merely for the comfort of a steady paycheck.

Brittany ran her hands over her face and through her hair. She needed to get home. The longer she lingered in the office, the madder she’d get. Brittany shut down her laptop and started gathering her belongings. As she reached for her computer bag behind her chair, a picture on the shelf caught her eye. Her family, gathered in front of her parents’ house, all smiles. Even though she didn’t want to talk to them right now, she still loved them dearly.

And as much as she called her apartment “home,” Brittany knew deep down that her real home was Hillside, Alabama.

* * *

Brittany steppedout of the building that housed Fiction First Press into the brisk air. Either it was much colder than last night, or she had been too hot from Pilates to notice. Well, Pilates and thinking of Greg. She shook her head, trying to escape the thought of him. Greg had a way of making her hot and bothered, both from anger and from wanting to be near him. Every time she saw mistletoe now, she thought of their kiss. Both kisses. He’d forever ruined that plant. And as far as Christmas traditions went, kissing under a mistletoe was one Brittany never wanted to do again.

She took a deep breath and exhaled a frosty mist. A few minutes later, it started snowing. Normally, she welcomed the snow. It had been such a rarity growing up. Many of her New York friends saw it as a bother, and today, so did she. But everything bothered her lately, and dreary weather fit her mood.

A few wet snowflakes hit her face, reminding her of the time she’d rescued Greg from the sleet and given him her hot chocolate. She smiled at the memory of how silly he looked sipping from her purple thermos. Brittany slapped her forehead. “Stop thinking of Greg.”

Since she’d worn comfortable, low-heeled booties today, Brittany continued walking past her apartment complex. Going home to a lonely apartment seemed a little depressing right now. Plus, she really needed to walk off some of that chocolate ice cream she’d eaten last night.

Brittany walked until she came to Thomas Paine Park. She sat on an empty bench and watched as people passed by. Some walked alone while talking on their phones and in a hurry. Others walked with friends or family at a leisurely pace, chatting and laughing together. More snowflakes hit her face, but she’d become numb to the cold. All she could think about was how she didn’t want to end up like one of the alone.

Sure, they could have been on their way home to wonderful families. They could even have been on the phone with said family. But she doubted it. Their briefcases and serious expressions gave them away. The others had something to smile about. Orsomeoneto smile about.

After a few minutes, she decided to head toward her apartment. No sense putting off the inevitable. Since she didn’t want to worry about cooking, Brittany stopped at a food truck and bought a steak sandwich. Not the healthiest option, but it beat finishing off more ice cream.

She clutched the warm dinner box in her mittened hands, relishing in its warmth. It smelled heavenly, but she didn’t have much of an appetite. She’d been sure coming back to New York would make everything better. Instead, she felt worse. Even a big promotion hadn’t cured her sadness.

As mad as Brittany was at her family, she missed them. And oddly enough, she missed Greg more than anyone. More than her parents and even Scott. Something was seriously wrong with her.

Brittany made it to her apartment building and stepped into the lobby. Warm air welcomed her cold face. She punched the elevator button, in no mood to climb stairs like she normally chose to do. Besides, she’d just walked a few extra miles after work.

She was glad to see nobody she knew on the elevator and to see nobody at all down her hallway. The last thing she needed was to have to make small talk or have someone ask about her day. What would she say? Yeah, I got a big promotion, but I’m super bummed about it?

Her apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Needing a distraction from her thoughts, Brittany turned on the TV. She let it play in the background as she put her laptop on the counter and her sandwich in the microwave. First, she wanted to take a hot shower. Even after walking through the warm lobby and up to her apartment, she still needed help defrosting her limbs.

Brittany stood under the warm water and let it wash over her face and body. She shampooed her hair at least three times as she thought of ways to transition to writing full time. Maybe even more than three. She lost count.

After showering and drying her hair, Brittany’s appetite had somewhat returned. She went to the kitchen and heated up her sandwich. It tasted as good as it smelled. Great choice.

She tapped her fingers on the countertop and thought about what Cassandra had said. She needed Brittany as an editor. Naturally, Cassandra would put her own needs first. That’s why her company had succeeded so quickly and why she’d never been known to have any relationships aside from her parents.

Brittany didn’t want to turn out like Cassandra. But she did admire her for going for what she wanted. And if what Brittany had written in Alabama was any indication, she had a good chance at making a living as a writer. Just maybe not at Fiction First Press.

Brittany finished her dinner and opened her laptop. She pulled up the story she’d started in Alabama. Cassandra had told her to write on her own time, and it looked like she’d have to for now. She scrolled down to the bottom of what she’d written and tried to start a new chapter, but the words wouldn’t come. No matter how many times she referred to her outline or started to type a sentence, the words wouldn’t come. She had nothing.

Brittany sat back and puffed up her cheeks. She scrolled up the page, reading some of what she’d already written to hopefully inspire her creativity. Still, nothing came. She exhaled and scratched her head. She couldn’t give up. Not now. If she did, she’d be in acquisitions forever and always wonder what might’ve been. Why couldn’t she think? Those first few chapters were so perfect.

Maybe she needed someone else to believe in her story. Maybe that was the only way she could continue.

Brittany opened a new document and started a query letter. Of course, she’d need to do her research before sending it out, but simply writing it renewed her confidence. Since she knew how her company did things, Brittany addressed it to Cassandra just for fun. She read back through it to check for errors. Perfect. Brittany saved it.

She closed all the documents and stared at her computer screen. Many authors had said what they loved most about working with her was that she constantly encouraged them in their writing. It was time she did the same for herself.

If only the story would come to her as easily as it had while in Hillside.

Chapter 16

The next morning, Brittany got to work a little early. Cassandra had wanted her to fill out paperwork and tended to frown upon such necessities cutting into “real” work time. Brittany yawned. She’d stayed up late up trying to make herself write. But in the end, nothing held a candle to what she’d already written, and she began to wonder if it had been a one-time wonder. Some writers came out with a single bestseller and never wrote anything else that could compare to their first success. Maybe she was one of those writers. But instead of writing one great book, she’d written five great chapters.

When Brittany opened the door to her office, the paperwork was stacked neatly on her desktop. She put down her computer bag and purse, then started flipping through it. Simple stuff. A detailed list of expanded benefits, like the salary and opportunity for more retirement matching and bonuses now that she would be considered a senior-level employee. There was nothing that stated she had to stay in this position a certain amount of time. Brittany made sure of that before signing to accept the offer. Once she did sign, she stacked the papers back together and carried them to Cassandra’s office. After knocking, Cassandra asked her to come in.

Brittany crept toward her desk and handed over the papers.

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