“How can you do that? Your heart is broken.” Ellie’s face was so full of empathy, Candy feared she might cry. “You’ll never want to come to Malibu again.”
Very possible, but she pushed past that thought. “Of course I will. To be with you and Sara? We’ll have fun no matter what our love lives are like, right?”
Ellie smiled. “That’s true.”
“So, there you go,” she said, her heart aching in her chest. “The essay will be something fun to concentrate on.”
“I hope so,” Ellie said.
A moan from the bed drew their attention and Carter emerged, pulling the sheet around his body. She introduced him to Ellie and offered him some hangover cure.
She’d just walked Carter to the door and told him good-bye, when Sara came downstairs lugging her suitcase. It turned out she and Drew had quarreled-was last night bust-up night or what?-and she was ready to run home and bail out Uncle Spence with some crisis or other. Candy and Ellie managed to talk her into staying for the surf competition, at least.
Eventually, Candy was on her own again. She was headed for Sara’s computer when there was a bang at the door.
She opened it to find Radar looking eagerly up at her, ready to play. “Sorry, guy. Better find Carter.”
The dog didn’t move.
“Don’t you give up? I have to work.” In fact, she looked forward to it. She intended to finish what she’d started, even if she left SyncUp because of the Matt fiasco. The one good thing about this trip was that she’d realized she was more capable than she’d thought she was.
For all her sorrow, this cheered her a little.
“Can’t you tell I’m a new girl?” she asked the dog.
But Radar just whined. He’d played with her before and that was all he needed to know.
The truth hit her like a Frisbee in the forehead. People’s perceptions of you had to do with them, too, not just you. To Radar, Candy was a playmate. At SyncUp, people saw her as a jokester. That wouldn’t change, even if she did show more maturity and self-discipline. They wouldn’t notice the subtle improvements she’d made in herself.
What about her family?
She pictured the Thanksgiving scene she’d envisioned-the beautiful table, gleaming crystal, festive china, the dense aromas swirling in the air-roast turkey, pumpkin spice, sage dressing. Her father carving the bird. Everyone laughing, drinking wine and making the usual jokes about the time their father burned the bird or when Candy made a rubber-band shooter out of the wishbone.
She would ding her glass with her fork, to start the gratitude circle, the fine crystal ringing so crisply her ears would sting. “I’d like to start,” she would say, “since I have something special to be thankful for this year.”
“What? You didn’t bounce a check all year? You bought shares in Jose Cuervo?”
She’d fight down the laughter. “Nothing like that. I got a promotion. I’m the head of a product team. A manager.”
There would be a happy outcry and congratulations, but it would be the equivalent of “That’s nice, dear.”
They’d go back to talking about big legal deals, politics at the firm, the plans to expand her parents’ factory. And they’d smile at her as though she were their darling little girl.
Still.
That’s who she was to them. Over time, they’d accept the changes in her, but it would be incremental. One promotion wouldn’t alter a lifetime of experiences and expectations.
No, her family wouldn’t be nearly as impressed as she wanted them to be.
The person she needed to impress was herself. The question was how she saw herself and her abilities.
She was proud of herself. She was good at what she did. She was creative and innovative and good with people and a hell of a lot of fun.
Matt had said she’d be bored as a product manager. He might be right. She would hate the meetings, for sure. And cracking the whip? Forget it. He was correct that she’d have trouble getting staff to take her seriously because of all the joking around she did-maybe she didn’t want them to.
She liked who she was. She didn’t need to be a manager to be successful. But she wanted something more, some advancement. What about owning her own agency? The idea had come up a couple of times on the trip. Sara and Ellie had talked about it. Claudia and her business group had tried to hire her. She’d planned to do that eventually. Why not now? Or soon, anyway?
She might even get SyncUp as a client. She knew Scott hired outside consultants from time to time. Hell, she’d be better than the last guy they used. If Matt had meant what he’d said about wanting her for all his teams. Of course he did. The man was as honest as sunrise.
Her head began to throb, but in a good way this time. She’d wasted time trying to be someone she wasn’t. She was a girl who mixed work and play. And there was nothing wrong with that. The relief made her whole body feel shot through with light.
And she owed it, in part, to Matt. Painful as it was, he’d helped her see her strengths. He knew her.
For all their differences, he got her. She felt appreciated, accepted, valued by him for all she was, not all she thought she should be.
That was important and her eyes filled with tears of gratitude. She would thank him. But first she would sketch out some ideas for her new agency. What would she call it?
Candy Can? Calder Creative? Yeah, that sounded very good.
The idea made her smile and filled her with fire. She’d have something to report at Thanksgiving, after all. Even if all she got was a pat on her head for it, she’d know the truth. Candy Calder was going places.
15
MATT SAT AT HIS computer staring at his favorite tech e-zine, not caring one whit about malevolent bots or the latest on data farming.
He’d written out a possible team chart, but he kept worrying about where Candy would fit best and what if she quit?
He balled up the chart and tossed it across the room into his upside-down ball cap. Two points! Candy would make up rules for this, turn it into an office event.
She made everything fun. They needed her at SyncUp, for morale reasons if nothing else. If this thing between them chased her away, he’d never forgive himself.
He heard a sound on his porch and went to the door. There was Radar with that Frisbee of his. The dog nosed his way inside and galloped from room to room, carrying the Frisbee, searching for something. Or someone. When he returned, his doggie face held an obvious question: Where’s Candy?
“She’s not here, pal, but I’ll play.” He reached for the Frisbee, but the dog backed off, disappointed, then turned and trotted away.
He knew exactly how the dog felt. Candy opened all the windows and doors and let the sun in. She’d helped him see what he’d been missing.
He needed her in his life, dammit. If she would have him. He’d have to figure out how to make things right for her at SyncUp. He could quit, like he’d thought earlier. SyncUp was a great company and he’d made VP, but he’d moved before. To keep Candy in his life, he’d do anything.
Anything.
That realization made something shift inside him. He’d changed. He’d always done what was sensible, conservative, expected. What had Candy asked him: Did he act out of obligation or joy? He’d never thought about it before. He considered joy a luxury, beginning as a kid when he’d had to take care of his mother and sister. That was years ago and his family was fine. He had no further obligation to them.
He could do what gave him joy. And being with Candy did that. In spades. What a gift it was to have one person mean everything to him. One person whose laughter made his heart light, his life sweet.
One woman he wanted to help and be helped by. She got him out of his head, shook him out of the dull grind of every day that he found so comforting, but which also closed him away from new ideas and experiences. Adventures.
He needed Candy in his life.
And he could only hope that Candy needed him, too. There was only one way to find out.