Page 144 of The Tryst

“Call me as soon as you know.”

* * *

When I land in San Francisco, my phone rings. I answer as I’m walking along the jetway, and Layla wastes no time. “Mia’s relocating the company to Los Angeles. She wants to be with her family, and they’re in Santa Monica. She wants all the corporate staff to go and work with her in LA. Including me.”

Layla doesn’t have to say another word for me to know—she doesn’t want to go.

But I make the offer anyway. “If you want to take it, I’ll move with you.”

She’s quiet for several long seconds. “Nick,” she says softly. “You’d do that?”

No questions asked. “I’d do anything for you.”

52

MY HOME

Layla

I want to say yes to Nick’s offer. But I can’t. I just can’t.

Two nights later, I’m wandering around our home, overlooking the New York skyline, talking to my guy. “I want to stay here,” I tell him on the phone.

“Yeah?”

I gaze out the windows to the city that beckons me. This city is home to my greatest heartbreak, but also my greatest love.

It’s the home ofallmy loves. “Everyone I love is here,” I say, sad but resigned.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll find another job. These things happen, and I’ll manage.”

“I know you will,” he says, warm and confident. “I’ll be home soon.”

Home. Yes, this is home. New York, here with him, and Harlow and Ethan, and my mom, and David, and all my new friends too. Jules, Camden, and Storm.

But it’s alsohishome. Nick’s parents are here, and David and Cynthia. Nick loves working with his son every day. It’d be selfish of me to take the job in Los Angeles, and to take Nick away from his family.

“I can’t wait to see you.” I settle onto the couch and ask him about today’s keynote. “Did you talk about opportunities?”

“I did. Because I know how to spot them.”

He sure does.

* * *

“And that’s how youdon’toverdraw your lips with a pencil,” I say to the camera, winding up mydon’tsvideo.

I’m in the studio at the Mia Jane offices a few days after formally resigning. I’m still unsure what’s next or where to look for a new job.

But I have a job to finish before I say goodbye to the company I’ve come to love. Right now, I’m putting the final touches on my last few videos for The Makeover.

When I complete the shoot and leave the studio, Storm’s waiting for me in the hallway of our offices. He wears a sad smile that matches mine. He isn’t going to leave New York either. His partner lives here, directing Broadway shows.

“How’s it going, girl?” he asks, and his heavy voice tells me everything about how he’s managing.

“I’m…okay,” I say, as cheery as I can be.

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