Page 6 of The Close-Up
“Morning, Naomi,” she says without looking up from her phone.
I tell her good morning in response, then wait quietly as she gazes at her screen. This has been our morning routine ever since I started working here three years ago. Perfectly polished Fiona in her power skirt suit stops at my office to check in on whatever project I’m working on, always while reading something on her phone. It’s a bit micromanage-y for my liking, but nabbing a digital editor position at Dash, one of the most popular websites in the country, has been a dream of mine ever since I graduated college. This high-end lifestyle website is the epitome of its name. Everyone who works here is expected to look stylish and professional while producing creative content centered on the chic and cultured lifestyle theme. If I have to follow a bunch of nonsensical rules to jibe with the office culture, I’ll do it.
I smooth a hand over my hair, hoping I don’t look as haggard as I feel. I put on extra concealer this morning to minimize the hangover-induced dark circles that have set up camp under my eyes.
I update her on the interview I have lined up later this week with a former pickpocket-turned-popular YouTube home chef. Fiona looks up from her phone, a wide smile on her face. I blink twice, stunned. I’ve never, ever seen her smile that big. She’s usually so calm and composed, her emotional range drifting from mildly content to focused.
When she falls into the chair across from my desk, her expression doesn’t budge. “There’s been a change in plans.”
I steel myself. Whenever a boss has spoken those words to me in the past, it’s always been code for bad news. Either a deadline has moved up to an impossible time frame or I lost out on an assignment I’d been vying for.
“Care if I get a bit personal?” she asks. “Promise it’ll all make sense in a minute.”
“Of course.” I try not to sound too shocked. In the time I’ve worked with her, she’s always been tight-lipped about her personal life.
“I’m being whisked away to the Seychelles with my husband.” She waves a hand in the air. “For our anniversary.”
“Oh, um...”
Her announcement throws me for a loop. All I know about Fiona’s home life is that she’s married to Jeremy, an investment banker, and they have one college-aged daughter named Cece. Whenever I’ve asked about weekend family plans, she always gives me a bare-bones explanation. A couple sentences about whatever trip they’re planning or home project they’re undertaking. She’s never randomly offered up any cute story or fun moment with her husband. I just figured she was intensely private about their life together. Or there wasn’t much to say about it. Until now.
“I know what you must be thinking,” she says, pulling me out of my confusion. “I’ve never been all that chatty about my personal happenings. That’s because I’ve always thought you should keep home at home and work at work. But something happened over these past few months to turn my whole world upside down.”
Now that I think about it, Fiona has actually seemed a bit more smiley and cheery lately.
“People always say that you should never stop dating your spouse. Well, we definitely didn’t follow that advice. When Jeremy and I had Cece, our whole lives became her. And then when she left for college, it was like we had nothing in common. We argued constantly. I thought we were near the end. But these past few months, there was this change in him. He started being more attentive. He’d clean up the house without me asking him to and order dinner for me from my favorite sushi place when he knew that I’d be working late. He’d take me for walks on days when it was nice weather. And he’d make sure the fridge was stocked with my favorite pressed organic juices.”
I almost say “huh” out loud but stop myself. Getting surprise pressed juice deliveries must be the rich people equivalent of receiving an impromptu bouquet of grocery store flowers.
“Would you believe I thought he was cheating at first?”
When she laughs, I let out an awkward chuckle.
“I checked his phone. And emails. He wasn’t cheating. But I was so thrown by his sudden change in behavior. It had been years since he had done so many thoughtful, romantic things for me unprompted. I should have been making an effort too. Yet for so long it was me doing it all—reminding him of birthdays and anniversaries, taking care of the house, doing all the gift shopping and putting both of our names on the card. It was nice to be the one being attended to for once,” she says. “I was afraid that if I asked him about it, it would jinx everything, and things would go back to where they were. Complacent. Unhappy. Meh.”
I nod along, wondering what compelled a man on the brink of divorce to recommit himself to his marriage.
“Last night at dinner, he explained that he was doing all this to be a better husband after years of falling short. He said he was committed to being a more attentive and loving partner to me. Then he pulled out his phone and showed me two plane tickets to a resort in the Seychelles. We’re staying over the holidays this year to celebrate our twenty-fifth anniversary.”
“Holy crap.”
She grins so wide I wonder if her face hurts. “That was my exact reaction.”
“That’s wonderful, Fiona. Truly.”
“After the shock wore off, I said yes, of course. And that’s when it all clicked. This is what Jeremy had been working toward these past few months. He was dating me again—he was asking me to fall in love with him again. And I absolutely did.”
“Wow. If only more men took the initiative he did,” I say.
Fiona raises her brow at me. “It wasn’t all him.”
She pulls out her phone, swipes her finger across the screen, and hands it to me. When I look at it, I nearly choke. It’s a smiling headshot of Simon Rutler in a suit.
“This man is the reason we’re headed to a tropical getaway instead of calling divorce attorneys. And he’s your new interview assignment.”
“Um...what?” My head snaps up.
I take a minute to process the craziness of this moment. Just last night I was hitting on Simon—my college crush—and now he’s my new work assignment? What the hell are the odds?
