“Myles, are you ready?” I slipped my earring on and knocked on the bathroom door. “We have to leave in ten minutes.” The mirror on the door caused me to step back and examine myself. I looked stressed. My normally light gray eyes seemed darker than usual, and there were small worry lines between them. Running my fingers through my long hair, I tried to fluff it up to add a little body.
T: You missed your meeting today. Is everything all right?
I lowered my head and felt like a coward. I was avoiding her, and I did skip our session today, but it was because I needed to know regardless of the situation. I just needed to know.
Ari: I’m sorry. I’m okay. I will explain everything next week.
T: All right. Say the word at any time if you need me.
I tucked my phone in my purse and took a deep breath. I was a twenty-seven-year-old woman trapped in a life I was unsure of and questioning myself on how to make the next move. I knew it needed to be the right move.
A buzzing noise had me whirling around to find Myles’s suit jacket pocket lit up. I pulled the phone free and headed back to the bathroom door where the shower was still running.
“Myles?” I glanced down at the ID and wondered once again why it was a number. “Three” is calling. You want me to answer it? Myles?” Since he didn’t reply, I thought about answering it but didn’t in case it was a client.
I returned to the closet to gather my sweater and shoes. Ready to go, I plunked down on the side of the bed and took a deep breath. I was so nervous, my hands kept opening and closing to relieve some of the stress. It was a hard fight to keep the butterflies at bay.
“Ready?” Myles finally asked as though he had been waiting on me the entire time. He shrugged on one of his signature suit jackets that I knew was way too fancy for where we were going. He loved to play the part of the New York hotshot. He really just procured equipment for night clubs and restaurants under his father’s company. Ken Young was the real bigshot. Young Inc. had several businesses under his leadership. Myles had three major business openings coming up next year, and he was milking every moment of it. You would think he was in his young teens instead of his late twenties, he was so full of himself.
“Three called you.” I plucked my purse off the bed. “Who’s Three?”
Myles waved me toward the door, impatient as always. “It’s Fred,” he muttered.
“Why do you number them, anyway?”
He sighed deeply like I was once again asking too many questions. Myles hated that I was genuinely interested in what he did on a day-to-day basis. We met at eighteen and were married by nineteen. Everything seemed to move along really fast, and at first, I worked with him at Young, Inc., but over the years I was pushed aside. He said he liked me being at home. I wondered if he was threatened by me finding out he wasn’t all that great at what he did. Soon bored with having very little to do, I went back to school then started working for an ad agency instead.
“I’ve told you before. You know I work closely with Jason.” It irked me that he spoke to me as if I were a child. “We’re always competing, so I changed my possible new clients to numbers. If he sees my phone, he won’t know who is calling.” He grinned. “We’re now five to three.”
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