Decisions. Decisions. It was a big one. But after talking with my friends, both that night and in the airport the following day, I was closer to making up my mind.
Sophia and Juanita both thought I would be crazy not to take the job if offered it. There was really no reason not to. A: I didn’t have a permanent job in Maryland. B: Sophia and her family would look after my house while I would be away. And C: It was an opportunity to see the country and do something I really enjoyed. The only downfall would be missing my friends for a few months or so. The topic of Hawk was not brought up as part of the consideration or, for that matter, at all.
After an exhausting day of flying, I ordered a pizza on the way home and gobbled up part of it before falling fast asleep that night. It was waking up the following morning in my own bed that made me ask myself if any of it had really happened. The pile of laundry and the few days of unopened mail told me the vacation definitely had. The saved text from Hawk, inviting me to Finn Murphy’s suite, confirmed the rest.
Over the next couple of days, after temping at the local television station—basically just answering calls, delivering mail, and running errands—I would come home and get some of the requested items together. The list of references wasn’t difficult, since I had recently done that for the temp agency. I was more careful, though, about looking through and selecting examples of my blogging and social media work to forward to Reese. After all, this job was more important than any I had ever gone for before.
By Thursday evening, I needed a little break. While I was great at working on deadline, I didn’t like to feel rushed. I preferred getting something accomplished, removing myself from it, and then reviewing. And I wanted to do that before contacting Reese in any fashion. Besides, maybe I was blowing the job offer out of proportion. Maybe it was just a kind gesture, being grateful for keeping Finn’s kids safe. Was I getting myself all worked up for nothing?
I needed a release. So I strapped on my Nike trainers, grabbed Allante’s leash, and headed outside. Allante was Jeff’s dog when we had gotten married. Jeff had named him after the classic Cadillac his father owned because he insisted the dog, despite being a light-haired rescue mutt, was a purebred classic. And with how sweet he was, I believed it, too. When Jeff passed away, it took Allante a while not to sit at the window and poke his nose through the curtains, waiting for his master to return. But he had rebounded and, despite his age of eleven years old, made sure to be, ever more so, my guardian and pal. I had missed him those few days in the Keys, but I knew Sophia’s sons had been spoiling the heck out of him.
Our Maya-doggy outing was more of a walk than a jog. Allante’s arthritis wouldn’t put up with the exertion, and I didn’t need the exercise, as such. I was fortunate to have inherited my father’s side of the gene pool—naturally tall and slender. It drove people like Juanita, who had to watch and measure every calorie that went into her body, crazy.
The spring-like air was invigorating and refreshing. But the buzzing of an incoming text on my cell, later that evening, made me feel even better. I took my dinner plate off my lap and exchanged it for the phone. Seeing it was from Hawk, I muted the television, knowing I needed full concentration on whatever his message might say. I took a deep breath. The more I doubted everything that happened—from the job offer to the kiss—the more I wanted it. And pressing one button might tell my fate.
His text read, Hope U had a safe trip back.
Hmmm, I thought, well, that was kind of generic…but concerned? I decided to play a little cute. Yep—uneventful compared to the 3 days B4 that. I tacked on a smile emoji.
Good thing. There is something to say about eventful, tho.
I couldn’t help but smile, knowing we were both reflecting on those days. And I was glad he hadn’t hesitated with his response. I was going to type back “for sure” when a follow-up text came through.
Finn wants to know Y U haven’t contacted Reese yet.
His query made me stop some of my self-doubt. The offer was legit. And I needed to act on it.
Getting everything together, I replied. I’ll do it tomorrow.
Glad to hear it. I’ll let him know.
Because I didn’t know what else to say, I typed, Thanks and added another smiley to suffice.
His concluding text said, U got it.
Feeling more secure, I took the time to write out an introductory letter to Reese that evening. And then, purposefully waking up early the next morning, I typed it into an email and attached all of the material requested before pressing send. It was weird how nervous I was. I’m not, in general, that type of person. But the job with Finn suddenly meant so much to me.
Knowing she wasn’t going to pick it up that early in the morning or, for that matter, maybe even that day, I busied myself with getting ready and going into the television station. When I checked my email at lunch, there was a response. Well, it was more like a receipt, simply telling me she’d received my email and would get back to me soon.
My heart sank. To me, it was the equivalent of “I’ll call you” after the first date. Even though it had been years since being in the dating world, I could sense a brush-off a mile away. I sent the obligatory thank-you and look-forward-to-hearing-from-you response back and tried not to cry, especially knowing the whole idea of the job was fairytale-ish, anyway. And just when I had started to believe.
I didn’t even want to check my email any more that day. I knew when I did, it would most likely be vacant of any response from Reese. I wondered if she would be the type to actually send a rejection letter or just let it go into the hopeless abyss of no return. I had dealt with enough authors to understand that pain.
But before starting my car at the end of work, I checked. I did. I thought if there wasn’t anything there, I would swing by the liquor store for good measure on my way home.
There it was, though—another email from Reese. Was it just as generic? Was it the end? I could picture the neon light of the state store. I could picture the long aisles of wine and hard liquor. Which to pick? Maybe both.
But getting wasted wasn’t in the cards. Instead, I blasted my car stereo all the way home, listening to a Finn Murphy shuffle. Reese’s email was short, but it was also promising. She had a very busy schedule and was wondering if she could call me the next day. She realized it was a Saturday and she didn’t want to interfere with any previous plans, but she would rather discuss everything verbally. Um…yeah! And, plans? Like I had any. Alcohol was even out of the question.
Of course, I emailed her straight back and, without trying to sound desperate said, Mrs. Byrd, thank you for your reply. I will make myself available for your phone call at any time tomorrow. Let me know. Looking forward to speaking with you.
Her email came back almost immediately that time. First of all, it’s Reese. The running joke is: it took my husband and I years to actually marry because of that horrible last name! So Reese, please. And how does 1ish sound?
One o’clock sounds great until you wake up too early and then either just sit around or start cleaning your house while waiting for the clock to tick to that hour. Thank goodness Reese was prompt with her time-telling. My furniture, floors, and appliances could not have gotten any cleaner.
Reese was very natural, although a little hurried. I instantly felt at ease with her. She seemed impressed with the examples I had provided, and she had done her own Maya research online, which, of course, meant articles about Jeff. So she added the obligatory “sorry for your loss.” Then she described what the job would entail and how I would be working with her long distance—she lived in New York City. But, she reinforced, Finn always had the final say. She also said privacy regarding his family was absolutely non-negotiable. I told her I had understood that even before it was to be understood. She noted that Finn had picked up on that and many other positive characteristics. After speaking with her, I felt more confident about my capabilities of doing the job and told her so. She concluded by telling me she was going to pass on all the information to Finn and she would let me know.
***
Well, that next morning, I was either going to start cleaning my neighbor’s house or hit the liquor store. As the latter wasn’t open and I didn’t like my neighbors that much, I decided to sit down and blog—just for the fun of it…put some words onto paper and let things flow. I hadn’t done any writing since leaving my job with the publishing house, and, until I started again, I hadn’t realized how much I needed to.
What came out was basically the dream I had in the Keys—being on the roller coaster with Jeff. By doing a writing recall, I remembered something at the end I hadn’t initially. When I yelled out his name the final time and he wasn’t there, I had let go. I let my arms release from the constraints of the heavy bar, and I was fine.
I printed out the piece, folded it up, and laid it on the living room shelf clustered with photos of Jeff and me. There was the selfie when we had just gotten engaged, a picture of us kissing on our honeymoon, a Halloween photo where I was the hot cop and he the convict, and the one at the amusement park for the Shriver family reunion. We were in a bumper car waiting for it to start. Jeff, whose tan accentuated his pale blue eyes and chiseled smooth face, had just said it was going to be an extra bumpy ride since he was going after his sister’s car. Sophia, ironically, had taken the photo of us smiling, not knowing what we were talking about.
That was the summer before Jeff was killed. He—we—were naturally happy. My one hand lay on top of his on the steering wheel. His black hair was cut as short as possible for the summer, making him look younger and even more fit, somehow. Right after the picture was taken, he had yelled “Game on!” to his sister. And then we were bumped and spun around hundreds of times—just like my life shortly after.
I stared at the photo, thinking about the dream and him telling me I was on the right track when, suddenly, my phone began to ring. I refocused my attention and walked over to the table to retrieve it. Seeing Reese’s name on the screen, I took one last look at Jeff’s photo across the room and answered.
After the initial greeting and making sure it was an all right time to talk, Reese informed me that Finn was connected on the other line. It was a conference call. Finn and I did the standard “how are yous” and “good trip” comments before he got down to the actual business at hand.
“So Maya…” he said. “‘Dark and Dusty’ is going to remain in the lineup. I hope that’s not a deal-breaker with you.”
“Good grief.” Reese exhaled.
“You sound like Charlie Brown,” he teased his publicist.
“Would you just tell her?” Reese finished the banter.
“Maya, on the unanimous advice of five of my greatest advisors, one of them being Charlie Brown…”
“Ha. Ha.” Reese’s laugh was pure mockery.
“I’d like to formally offer you the job of…” He hesitated. “Well, I guess we don’t have a title. Reese, do we—”
“I don’t care about titles,” I interjected, and my body felt like it had jumping beans inside of it over the excitement of the moment. “I accept.”
“Great,” the recording artist replied.
“Welcome aboard,” Reese said. “I can tell we are going to work well together.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “I appreciate your support. Can I…can I ask who your other advisors are? I might need to thank them, too.”
“Well, Hawk, you know, told us about your background and vouched for you initially.”
Finn paused, but I didn’t react. I wondered how much he knew. Did he know about the kiss…kisses? Did it even matter?
“And, of course, my wife,” he continued.
“Of course. Tell them thanks.”
“But you wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without the final two,” he said.
“Oh. Okay. Who?”
I was completely puzzled. Couldn’t have been my references. They were not his advisors.
“Chance gave you a ‘yay’ and two thumbs up, and Arinn, well, she tried to say your name.”
“Oh…God.” I brought my free hand up to my face and admitted, “That just made my eyes water.”
“Oh, boy,” Finn lamented. “It was supposed to be a smile kind of thing. No tears allowed on tour.”
“Then you better not play the ‘Dark and Dusty’ song!”
“Touché.” He laughed. “Listen, I’m glad this is all working out. I’m gonna go and let you and Reese hash some stuff out.”
“Thanks,” I said and quickly added, “Thanks for everything.”
“I guess it was serendipitous that you were looking for ice—”
“I wasn’t even doing that,” I admitted, interrupting my new boss.
“Well, whatever. I know this is going to be good for all of us,” he said. “Just don’t pull the football out from good ole Chuck.”
“Finn!” Reese screeched at the Peanuts reference. “Say goodbye. Let us talk.”
“Bye, Maya. See you in May.”
Reese and I talked even more logistics—from my start date, to signing papers, to meeting with her in Nashville, to what would be expected on a daily and weekly basis, to dealing with Finn. And when I got off the phone, I screamed out my excitement. Poor Allante came hobbling as fast as he could and tried to lick me as a nervous protective kind of thing. I gave him a hug and a kiss and then called Sophia and then Juanita, who both screamed, too. It had only been a week since I sat down to dinner in Finn and Lara’s suite and, God, how my life had changed. But then I wasn’t a stranger to that occurrence, either.
***
The next week flew by so quickly. I was trying to plan out every last detail of what my new job would involve. I practically had lists for my lists. I wanted to do everything—shopping, scheduling, correspondence—all at once, but I couldn’t. I had plenty of time to get it all done. I was just excited for something like I hadn’t been for so long.
It was that following Sunday when the ACM Awards were broadcast live. I had always been a music fan and, since Jeff, specifically a country music fan. But I never really got into the award shows. First of all, there were a lot of them. And second, a plaque or trophy didn’t influence who I liked to listen to. But, boy, was I paying close attention to the ACM ceremonies. Literally on the edge of the sofa, I even took notes. I also monitored Finn’s social media sites to see what fans were posting during the show. And I knew the likes, comments, and retweets would get even higher if he won something…which he did—Single Record of the Year. His emotional acceptance speech was about it being a particularly rough year for him, so it was nice to have the honor of the award.
I was so excited for him. It was as if I actually knew him. But…I did! The reality of my life was still not completely registering.
Not only did I want to extend my congratulations, but I also felt as an employee—a new one at that—I should. It would be good for him to know I was paying attention to those things, especially in the position I would be holding. But what to do? And how to do it?
I didn’t have any direct contact information for the country superstar. Any time I had corresponded with him, it had been through Reese or Hawk. I had liked his fan page on social media and had occasionally done some internet searches. But that was before…before my whirlwind of a vacation turned job. And, somehow, it didn’t seem right to contact him via social media because I knew Reese was the one manipulating those accounts, for the most part.
Hawk. I decided on Hawk. Hawk was always with him. I could say a quick congratulations to Finn via Hawk. And, yes, admittedly, it put me back in contact with the man whose lips I swore I could still feel on mine.
Knowing the awards show was live and there had to be a million things going on with Finn and his crew at that moment, I decided on text format. Please tell Finn I said CONGRATS! I don’t have his contact info.
Surprisingly, Hawk’s text back came promptly…just as the show was returning from commercial break. I looked at the television screen and tried to imagine where Hawk might be and what was going on. Then I looked at his text.
Will do. & U will get his info when U arrive in TN. As I was thinking I probably didn’t have any direct contact information due to the confidentiality clause I had to sign when I arrived in Tennessee, another text came in from Hawk. Congrats to U too.
A broad smile spread across my face before I added a similar emoji next to my text. Thanks. I then followed up with, & thanks for my endorsement. I was glad for the opening to say something to him that was not a relay message to Finn.
I’m telling U, it was all U.
I didn’t believe that. Nobody, especially someone as protective of his private life as Finn Murphy, just hired someone through a resume, work samples, and personality, even though I was confident in my capabilities. Finn had said it himself—he relied on those around him to help.
I texted back, Just…thanks.
U got it. C U soon.
Yep. I debated about another smiley emoji and at the last minute added it. After all, I was happy.
***
Less than two weeks before my big adventure was set to begin, Reese called with some final details, including my flight information and where she would meet me before all of us took off on tour. Then Lara called a few days later to help me know how much and what to pack. As much as I liked Reese, I liked Lara even more. Lara was so at ease. I admired that, especially considering all she and her family had been through. And because we were pretty much the same age, I felt like I could relate to her as much as a friend as an employee.
Mrs. Murphy did the best she could, trying to explain the tour bus facilities. Because of the closed-in quarters and her personal allergy to strongly scented things, she suggested not bringing a lot of perfumes. I was more than happy to oblige since, besides lotion and hairspray, I kept scents pretty low-key. The closed-in part, I thought, was what I was going to be allergic to.
Partway through our conversation, I heard Finn say something to her, but I couldn’t make it out. Lara’s end of the conversation was much clearer, though. “I’m talking with Maya.” She paused, obviously listening to her husband. “Girl talk.” There was another bit of silence on her end. “Telling her what to bring…pack.”
When Lara started laughing, I had to question. “What?”
“Finn and Hawk said you don’t need to bring an ice bucket!”
“Oh, geesh.” I exhaled and went along with the joke. “I’d probably lose it, anyway,” I said. “I’ll figure it out. It sounds like you have a lot going on there.”
“Always.” She sounded both exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. “There’s just a few of them over here ironing out the details.”
“Oh.” I pictured the two she mentioned standing next to her and thinking of me.
“We’ll see you in a week, then?” Lara’s voice interrupted my mental image of both men.
“Yeah. Tell the kids I said ‘hi.’”
My brain tried to refocus on what it was supposed to. But how could it? A week. A week. In a week, my world was going to change.