Page 43 of One Snowy Day
Holy. Swanky. Shit.
The rest of the pages on the document were a Non-Disclosure Agreement (both compulsory and standard), contract terms and conditions and a medical questionnaire. But none of the bureaucratic stuff had stuck in her brain, because she’d kept going back to the highlights of the offer.
It was a great package. Stunning. And while the thought of doing something so far out of her comfort zone filled her with absolute terror, at any other time in her life she’d have jumped at it.
Just not now. And the knot that had been twisting her gut since Ollie first broached this with her had become unbearable. For her own sanity and wellbeing, she had to shut this down. Close it off. Put it behind her and move on. She’d resolved to speak to Moira later and get Ollie’s contact details so that she could call him to thank him and explain her reasons for declining. Moira had told them about the time that he’d flown from LA to Hong Kong because she’d been in an accident, so Georgie was pretty sure that he was the kind of guy who would understand her family loyalties and her reasons for staying here.
Before that, though, she had to formally reject the offer. She’d skimmed back down to the covering letter, looking for the response method. ‘Please reply with urgency to this email indicating your acceptance/refusal of this offer. Alternatively, please call…’ Georgie had checked her phone and seen that it was the same number that had called this morning. She’d briefly considered the options and decided to call, checking the time difference first. They were eight hours behind in LA. Almost lunchtime. Okay, so she wasn’t going to get the woman out of her bed to deliver the news.
Her fingers had trembled a little as she’d clicked on her recent calls again, located the number and pressed connect. She’d been hyped up and ready to speak, when it went straight to voicemail.
‘Hello, this is Bonnie Katowski from Clansman Productions…’
Listening to the recording, Georgie had begun to panic as she’d tried to decide whether to leave a message or call back. A message. Definitely. It was the only way to get this over with, so that she didn’t have to think about it again. For some reason that she didn’t quite understand, she’d squeezed her eyes shut as she’d begun to speak.
‘Hello Bonnie, this is Georgie Dern. We spoke this morning when you very kindly let me know about the offer of a position as Ollie Chiles’ hairstylist onThe Clansman.’
The angel and devil had returned to her shoulders and this time the angel was telling her that she was doing the right thing, being a loyal daughter and making a decision that would allow her to thrive as the successful owner of her own business. Meanwhile, the devil had slapped his hand to his forehead and told her she was a total tit for passing up the opportunity to do something wild.
‘You did say that you would like a swift decision, so I just wanted to let you know…’
That was it. Last chance to go one way or another.
‘I’m afraid I am unable to accept the position, but thank you for the opportunity.’
Eyes still closed, it had taken her three attempts to hit the button to hang up, but she got there in the end.
It was done. Over.
She’d done a quick check to try to ascertain how she was feeling, and the result was… relieved. A bit sad too, but mostly just relieved. No more secrets. No turmoil. No dilemmas. She wasn’t like Grant, who relished a risk and thrived on adventure. She was a creature of habit, of familiarity and the whole thing would probably have scared her to death anyway, so she’d just saved herself a whole lot of heartache. At least, that was what the wee angel on her shoulder was saying, so that’s what she was going with.
The very short chapter in her life was closed, and one day she’d be able to tell her grandchildren that she was once offered a swanky job in Hollywood. That would definitely put Grandad Solar Panels in second place in the cool grandparent rankings.
Now, a minute or two later, she exhaled, letting all the stress slide from her shoulders. It was time to go celebrate her mum.
Rising from the edge of the bed, she quickly pulled on her dress, put her heels in her handbag and her exceptionally un-sexy wellies on her feet, and in no time at all she was out of the door and walking to the café. The pavements were still thick with snow, but the gritters and ploughs had been out on the road, so it took less than five minutes of trudging through slush, only stepping back onto the pavement when a couple of cars passed, to get to Main Street.
Even from across the road, she could see that the café looked beautiful – all twinkly lights in the windows, and lots of chatting, smiling people inside. That sight of the crowd made her beam – her mum had been worried that no one would come out in this weather, but, of course, she’d been wrong. Georgie knew that it would take a lot more than a snow storm to prevent most folks in this village from celebrating Jessie McLean.
She was halfway across the road, when she heard the unmistakable sound of her Aunt Loretta belting out ‘Mustang Sally’and she allowed herself a little bubble of excitement. She loved a party and tonight was going to be such a respite from the stress of the last few days.
As Georgie stepped onto the pavement, she saw that Jessie was standing just inside the door. Okay, shoulders back, smile, best foot-in-a-wellie forward. She was going to go in there and be nothing but smiley and happy all night.
She pushed the door open and walked into the warm, sparkling, beautiful interior feeling nothing but positivity… until her mother rounded on her with a look that she hadn’t seen since she was fifteen and got caught sneaking out her window at midnight on a Saturday night to go meet her boyfriend.
‘Georgette Catherine McLean…’
Oh bollocks. Like every mother of her generation, Jessie used Georgie’s full moniker when she was seriously pissed off. And also, apparently, forgot that she was married and her surname had been Dern since 2006. What the hell had she done to deserve this? The answer was rapidly forthcoming.
‘When were you going to tell me that you’ve been offered a job on a TV set in America?’
23
ALYSSA
It was both heartbreaking and ironic to Alyssa that tonight her gorgeous café was more beautiful than it had ever been, and yet this had also been the day that she’d discovered it was being taken away from her.
The room was packed, the music was playing, guests were raving about the food and everyone looked so happy. Except, maybe, Jessie’s husband, Stan. He’d been standing over at the bar since he came in, and the only time Alyssa had seen him smile was when his granddaughter, Kayleigh, and his son, Grant, had gone to chat to him. Alyssa didn’t know Stan very well, and as far as she could remember, he’d never once set foot in the café. Alyssa only knew who he was because she’d seen him around the village with Jessie over the years. Maybe he didn’t do coffee. Or perhaps he was gluten-intolerant and didn’t want to be faced with the sight of all the cakes she had on display. It was hard to imagine that the bubbly, warm Jessie would be married to someone grumpy, though, so he must just be having a bad day.
