Page 13 of Ticket to You

“Jane tried to lay me off. I’m her highest-paid writer with the biggest expenses and—”

“But you’re herbestwriter,” Gemma says, releasing me. Her complexion tints a shade redder.

“I tried to tell her that.” My attempt at a laugh comes out like a wheeze. “She gave me one last chance to prove myself. But I need your help.Atelierwon’t pay anyone but me to go on a trip, so I need to join another journalist. Please,pleasetell me you have someone I can go with.”

Gemma’s mouth drops open a bit, then grows into a grimace. She squeezes her eyes shut. “I don’t know if you want to do that.”

A low, guttural sound comes from my throat, and I take over Gemma’s role as the designated pacer, walking the room in tight laps. “If I don’t go on this trip—and somehow do the job of three people while I’m there—I’m out. And I’mreallynot ready to be out. What am I going to do for money? Gem, this is my only option.”

“There’s someone. The rest of his usual team was just laid off. But he—”

“He’s probably more experienced than the guy who hangs out at the Eighty-Sixth Street station. And that’s who I’ll be living with if I lose my spot atAtelier.” I throw my arms up in exasperation. “Even if this guy snores on the plane or chews with his mouth open or only wants to talk about Gore-Tex, it’ll be worth sucking it up for one trip.”

“What if he’s the kind of guy to blast music from his Bluetooth speaker at a public park?” Gemma says, taunting me with a mischievous smile.

My shoulders loosen with Gemma’s joke. “On second thought, maybe the guy at Eighty-Sixth could clean up nice.Hecould go on the trip with me.”

“Now that’s an idea.”

“I don’t care who it is. I don’t care what has to happen. But IneedOutdoorsy’s help. And it sounds like your writer needs my help just as much.”

“You don’t care who it is?” Gemma bites her cheek. Her wide eyes say it all.

“You don’t mean…” I trail off, squeezing my eyes shut.

“He’s your only option.”

8

ADAM

At the sound of knocking,I look up from my computer for the first time today.

“Adam, open up!” The front door of my apartment muffles Eloise’s voice.

Shit.

I hurry to the door and open it for her. Under her raincoat, Eloise is wearing maroon scrubs. Her black hair is pulled back into a tight, practical ponytail. Despite her glare, a smile hints at her mouth. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her truly mad at me.

“I’m sorry, El. I completely forgot about lunch.”

“I can’t blame you. After all, it’s not like we meet up every Wednesday for lunch. Oh, wait…” After turning my record player on, Eloise laughs and plops down on the couch, kicking her tennis shoes off and folding her legs crisscross. She hands me a plastic to-go container with a sandwich and chips in it. “Since we don’t have time to go anywhere else, it’s the hospital food court special today.”

Despite the meal being simple, my stomach rumbles at the sight of it. I sit opposite Eloise and dig into my lunch. I don’t think any of it even hits my tongue. Soon after we start eating, my phone goes off with a call from an unknown number. I ignore it.

“So,” Eloise says between bites, “what’s so important that you forgot about lunch with your baby sister?”

“I’m tying up some loose ends. I…I put in my two weeks’ notice. Last Friday.”

Eloise drops her sandwich back into her tray and slams her feet on the ground. “Youwhat?”

“You know I’ve been wanting to start an indie magazine for, well, forever.”

She nods, her mouth agape.

“I told you back in December how a bunch of my coworkers were let go for budget cuts. And last week, even more people were fired, including the rest of my usual team—aside from me. I know it’s a risk to leaveOutdoorsy, but that was the final push I needed to go do something on my own.”

Eloise reaches over the coffee table to slap my arm. “I’m so proud of you!” She hops up and dashes into the tiny kitchen, rifling through my cabinets. “Don’t you have something we can celebrate with? Like some pretentious IPAs or microbrews, in true Adam style?”

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