Page 50 of No Time for Traditions

“Is that all?”

“What do you mean, is that all?” Brittany got out of bed and frowned. She stood by the window. She was too fired up to sleep now.

“If you don’t know what he had to do with the sale, then you shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“Why are you taking up for him?” Brittany yelled into the phone, no longer able to control her voice.

“Because, sweetie, I think you’re being irrational.”

Brittany balled her hands. “Mama, please don’t ‘sweetie’ me and then call me irrational.”

“Fine. All I really need to say is I’m sorry you’re upset, I love you, and you should talk to Greg before you judge him.”

“I love you, too,” Brittany spoke through gritted teeth, then hung up the phone.

No matter how mad she was, she never ended a conversation with her family without telling them she loved them. Even conversations like this when she didn’t feel any love at all.

Chapter 18

Monday morning came as a relief. Brittany didn’t sleep much at all Saturday night, thanks to her heated conversation with her mom. Then Sunday, she’d made up for it by sleeping way too late. Going back to work and settling into a routine was what she needed to feel somewhat normal again.

Before, after, and even during her talk with Sarah, Brittany worried over whether to call or text Greg. So much of her wanted to talk to him. Hear him out. Tell him how she couldn’t stop thinking of him. But each time she scrolled down to his name in her phone, she thought back to the day she left Hillside and their fight.

Brittany got dressed, not caring to wear trendy shoes as usual. She picked out a pair of flats and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Her eyes were puffy from bouts of crying throughout the weekend, so she kept her makeup to a minimum. The way she looked accurately depicted how she felt.

On the way to work, she spotted some business owners and maintenance workers taking down Christmas lights. No more enchanted walks down snowy streets. She loved that more than anything about New York. This evening’s walk would be lit by streetlights and store signs instead, bringing everything back to a dull metropolis.

Brittany breathed out into the icy air and thought back to her drives in the country. All the lights on the houses and the hay bales decorated like ornaments. Those would be gone by now, too, but it wouldn’t diminish the beauty of the countryside. Hillside was naturally lovely any time of year.

Opening the door to her office building sent a shiver down Brittany’s spine. She didn’t know why, but suddenly, the thought of going to Fiction First Press left an emptiness in her gut. Maybe it was nerves from settling into her new position. Or maybe her tiredness and personal problems were to blame. Either way, she reminded herself that work was just what she needed to get back on track.

The first thing Brittany did when she reached the floor to the press was head for the break room and pour a large cup of coffee. She’d had one at home, but that wouldn’t do. After a healthy dose of sugar and creamer, she went to her office and settled in. Brittany noticed a sticky note on her computer screen.

Brittany, come see me first thing.

—Cassandra

Brittany swallowed a third of her coffee in one big gulp and wiped the corners of her mouth with her thumb. This could only mean one of two things. Either Cassandra had some other genre or assignment to dump in her lap, or she’d read the manuscript submitted by “Alice.”

Shaking out her hands and rolling her shoulders didn’t relieve any tension, but it at least helped wake her up. Brittany stood from her chair and headed for her boss’s office. She stopped in front of the door and sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly before knocking.

“Come in, Brittany.”

Brittany closed her eyes at the invitation and then opened them as she slowly opened the door.

“You wanted to see me first thing?” It was a stupid thing to say, but Brittany needed to say something to work the nervous tension out of her voice.

“Yes, come have a seat.”

Brittany crossed the floor and planted herself in the center of the sofa. She sat all the way back, wanting support in case she heard something upsetting. If she were to ever fall out of a chair, today would be the day.

Cassandra stood, which couldn’t be a good sign. “Thank you for forwarding the query.”

“You’re welcome.” Brittany’s eyebrows shot up in anticipation of what would come next.

“I really enjoyed the story. I’ve never visited Alabama, but the imagery of the small town was breathtaking.”

“Thank you.”

---