Page 34 of Somewhere Only We Know
JAX
PRESENT DAY
“Ineed those mock sketches by the end of the day,” I hear my sister shout as I exit the elevator lift in a hurry.
One could say my sister is strict, but she just knows what she needs when she’s working. I wave to some of her team and Olivia waves me into her office. Kamryn is hunched over her drawing desk and I know not to disturb her when she’s working. I did that once and walked on eggshells for the rest of the day.
I drop on the couch and take my laptop out of my bag and power it up. Once a month, Kam and I have a one-on-one meeting to discuss trends in terms of marketing and how to weave it into promoting her designs. Every six months we meet to see if the traffic on her website has increased. And then once a year I give her website and social media pages a complete makeover to reflect what’s to come. Because social media is like wading into the ocean. One second it’s waves you can ride and the next there's no waves at all.
We like to find the happy medium so that currentcustomers stick around and new customers find a reason to give her brand a chance.
“Oh, I need a massage.” Kam groans and comes to sit next to me on the couch. Our meetings don’t usually last long unless I see a significant dip in traffic being driven to her sites.
“I’m sure your retired football husband would be happy to oblige.” I say off-handedly as I tap away at the keyboard.
“Hmm. I bet he’ll do more than that.”
“Kamryn!” I whine.
She shoves me as best as she can while we’re on the couch and laughs. “When you finally pull your head out of your butt with Nate you can gross me out.”
I shake my head and pull up the back end of her site. The dream I had last night was the first time he made me come before my birthday. I woke up reaching for my vibrator and getting off in less than thirty seconds. A record if I do say so myself.
“What was that?” my ever observant sister asks.
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
“Nuh uh,” she starts and closes my laptop when I hold it up in her face. “We can talk about work after you tell me what got your face all twitchy.”
“Twitchy?” I ask deflecting.
Kamryn snaps. “Focus. Now, spill.”
“You’re annoying.” I say in an exaggerated groan and drop my head back. “Fine. He came by my house a couple of weeks ago and dropped off a basket of candy.”
“Cute.”
“He also said he would text me but I’m still waiting.” I’m not sure why I sound sad about his lack of communication. Nate did tell me that his promises aren’t something I shouldhold tight to. And he was right. But try telling my heart to not expect more than what he actually tells me.
“If he does text, are you actually going to text him back? You’re all about patterns. At least that’s what you told your listeners.” Leave it to my sister to use my words against me.
“I hate that you hold me accountable.” I tell her as I cut my eyes her way. “I wouldn’t know what to say to him.” I admit and sigh.
“A simple ‘hey’ never hurt anyone.”
I give Kamryn a look because I’m not bold like that, but instead I say, “Maybe when I get home.”
My sister shakes her head and allows me a pass, handing me my laptop back so we can get started. I show her the reports of where we’re struggling to reach customers and where the customers seem to engage more and then where they drop off.
Working with my sister in the fashion world is not the path I saw myself on, but I am grateful for the doors it’s opened up for me. But working on a sliding scale when it comes to social media trends proves that I can never get too comfortable because what might work one day, won’t work that next week.
When I leave my sister’s office, I have a few more freelance clients I have meetings with and by the time I drive myself home, I want nothing more than to pour myself the largest glass of red wine, order a pizza, and watch the sunset. I’m the typical cliched millennial and I refuse to change that pattern. But when I turn down my street, I see the familiar truck of the man from my past sitting at the curb. Parking in front of my garage, I look in my rearview mirror and see Nate standing at the end of my short driveway with his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie with his eyes trained on me.
Time has done Nathan Holloway extremely well.
I purposefully didn’t look at him when he first reappeared. Because I would have ignored all of my anger and hurt, and folded on the spot. Now, with the sun setting and casting him in an ethereal glow, I can’t deny that he got more handsome with age. If I thought Nate was big in college, that time has nothing on him now. It’s like standing in front of a new man.
Even in a hoodie, I can tell he fills out every inch of the material. And those legs I refused to pay attention to when he was running that day he caught me and Sully, are encased in form fitting joggers. And I do mean form fitting.
