Mandy stands, staring at me like I’ve said I want to rap folk music with a gospel choir. “Are you insane? Do you really want to throw all of this away? After how hard we’ve worked for this? You signed a contract. I can sue you.”
“How hard I’ve worked, you mean? And no, I don’t plan to throw everything away. Just you. Sue away, sweetheart.”
I don’t bother waiting for her witty comeback. I just guide her gently out of my room and close the door behind her.
37 | Robyn
SEVERAL WEEKS AFTER DALLAS LEAVES, MY BOSS MAKES A BIG ANNOUNCEMENT. The Martin family has decided to expand into more than just bourbon. They’ve partnered with a midsize rum distributor they’ll be renaming Sunset Bay. Next up is a moonshine manufacturer they plan to call Moonlight Bay.
Everyone is ecstatic, hugging and cheering, and already chatter about who might head up the teams for the new companies is flooding through the conference room.
“You’re the front-runner for the PR campaign on the expansion,” Katie tells me as the conversations around us die down. “Drew said he overheard Mr. Martin talking about it this morning when he was taking some photos for the press release.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.” I should be thrilled. This is huge, even bigger than the promotion I’ve been vying for. Instead I just feel . . . overwhelmed. I still haven’t told my boss I’m pregnant and I’ll need to schedule my maternity leave. If I do that now, it’s likely I won’t get to head up this campaign or even be involved with it at all.
As the meeting comes to a close, I hear Mr. Martin call my name. I wait for the room to clear before making my way to where he stands. Thankfully, Katie hangs back with me.
“Good news,” he announces with his booming voice as I approach. “The board voted and we want you to head up the campaign to promote the expansion. We need new logos, new label mock-ups, new banners on all the social media pages, and something huge to celebrate. I’m thinking a gala downtown. I’d like to see a list of ideas in my email inbox by tomorrow. And reach out to local vendors and see who might want to host exclusive previews of the bottles once we’ve updated the labels.”
“Yes, sir. I’m on it.” A cold, clammy sheen of sweat rolls down my neck to the middle of my back. “Thank you for the opportunity, sir.” I smile at the executives standing beside him.
“Oh, and I’ll need you to stay late this evening and then again tomorrow. We’re doing a tasting of the new products after work.”
“The new products?” I can literally see my worlds colliding. I’ve tried to keep them separate. In one I’m a successful marketing assistant and promotions specialist and in the other I’m an expectant mother. Now I have to figure out how to be both at the same time.
“The rum today and the moonshine tomorrow,” he clarifies. “Call a local sandwich shop, that one we get those Italian subs from, and have them bring several platters over. We’ll need something to soak up the liquor.”
“Yes, sir.” I’m frozen, stuck in place and unable to figure out what to say to avoid this impossible situation.
“Actually, Robyn, didn’t you say you had that thing after work today? That new, um, class? The one you can’t miss?”
“Right,” I say with a sigh of relief. “Wow. I totally forgot about that.”
Mr. Martin looks skeptically at the both of us. “Class?”
“Um, Spanish. I’m taking a Spanish class at the university. I was hoping to branch out so I could be more of an asset for our international clients.” The lies are just spilling out of my mouth at this point.
“I can handle the tastings. And the sandwich order,” Katie offers “I’ll fill Robyn in once she gets home from class.”
I want to tackle-hug her right this second. Or collapse on her when the tightly wound strings of tension holding me together unravel.
Mr. Martin frowns. “Okay. I guess that will work. In the future, please let me know if you’re taking any classes that might interfere with your work schedule.”
I nod quickly. “Yes, sir. I definitely will.”
Like when I have to take that Lamaze class. I am so screwed.
“Thank you,” I whisper to Katie on our way out. “I owe you one. More than one.”
“You’re welcome. You know you’re going to have to tell him eventually.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I know. I will. I just . . . I need to tell my mom first. I keep thinking I can wait until Dallas gets home but they just added more dates to the tour and—”
My voice cracks as I try to choke out the words.
“Hey,” Katie says softly as we reach my desk. “Just because your situation is unconventional doesn’t make it impossible. My brother was serving overseas when both of his kids were born. He loves them, they love him. He and his wife are happy. People can make these types of situations work. They do it all the time. If anyone can handle unconventional it’s you.”
I try to smile but my mouth has other plans. “You’re right.” I pull it together the best I can. It’s time to be a big girl and face facts. “But I need to tell my mom and Mr. Martin sooner rather than later. Dallas or no Dallas.”
This is my life now and a baby isn’t an accessory I can just add on. Everything in my life is going to change. It has to.
Lying in bed at midnight, knowing it’s somewhere around four in the morning where Dallas is, I scroll through the few messages I have from him.
He didn’t call tonight and I’m trying not to dwell on how few times we’ve actually spoken since he’s been gone.
I don’t know when I became this person—this woman who stays up late on a work night waiting for her boyfriend to call. I wasn’t even this girl in high school. But then, he called when he was supposed to back then.
And he was five minutes down the road instead of on the other side of the world.
Katie’s moving in with Drew and I’m turning her room into a guest room and what was once the home office into a nursery. I tried to put the crib together today and ended up crying in the middle of the floor surrounded by wooden pieces I wanted to light on fire.
My chest tightens as I realize this is my life now. Dallas’s life isn’t going to be conventional and neither is our relationship. That was the word Katie used earlier. She’d told me that if anyone could handle an “unconventional” relationship it was me.
I hope she’s right.
I should be okay with this. Part of my job was to set up opportunities for him to get his picture taken with women who wanted to get close to him.
I try not to imagine Brazilian models fawning all over him but the image comes anyway.
Screw it.
I try to call him.
No answer.
I drift in and out of consciousness for a while until my phone buzzes in my hand.
Dallas finally texted.
Call you tomorrow. Show ran late. Love you.
Once my eyes have adjusted I text him back that it’s okay and I love him, too. But I miss him, so I pull my laptop from my nightstand and pull up his fan page.
New pictures have already been added. He looks so handsome up onstage. The way the light shines behind him makes him glow like an otherworldly being.
My larger-than-life Dallas Lark. I can feel my heart swelling with pride.
Below the official ones are some fan-posted ones.
Girls are draped all over him, hugging him, taking selfies with him, kissing him on the cheek.
I can handle this. I can. I have to.
But Lord help me, some of these women are insanely gorgeous. Very soon I am going to look like I swallowed a basketball. I already have a bump, one I can’t hide much longer. And Dallas is going to be surrounded by perfection.
I need to hear his voice. Need to hear him tell me good night. I pull up his name on my phone and listen to the ringing.
When his voice mail picks up, I open my mouth but nothing comes out.
I won’t do this. I won’t be the pathetic girlfriend at home making him feel guilty because she misses him. Besides, it’s not just about me anymore. I can’t keep doing this. The last thing I want my kiddo to see is Mommy sitting around pining for Daddy.