“Just read the papers over.” Her father was sitting by the fire in his bedroom.
The evenings were getting chillier now that autumn was giving way to winter, and she thought about having a fire in her own room. The sheaf of papers her father had been leaving for her would be the first thing she added for fuel. He slid his glasses on and turned his attention back to the documents he was looking over, assuming as he always did that she would be the dutiful daughter and do as she was told, no questions asked. Though she had no earthly clue why, since she never had before. He was nothing if not dogged, however.
Well, if he’d paid any attention, he’d know she was just as dogged. “Good night, Father. Don’t forget to take your pills. Dr. Cunningham is coming by tomorrow.”
He just gave a distracted nod and waved her off.
She shook her head and left quietly, going straight to her room. Her brother and both brothers-in-law were downstairs, but she wasn’t going anywhere near them. They’d been twice as bad as her father, who’d naturally told the whole family about her “finally coming to her senses,” as he’d put it. They’d done nothing but badger her about when she was moving back, which real estate agent she should use, what part of town was “in,” and where she should buy her clothes. New York fashion was apparently far too edgy for the conservative Connecticut crowd. Her brother was faxing her daily with details of various projects they wanted her to work on. None of them had appealed to her, and even if they had, she’d have said no, since acceptance of any project came with the lovely bonus of having him as her immediate boss.
She loved her family dearly—someone had to—no matter how misguided they were and despite often wondering if she’d been adopted or simply left on the doorstep. They did mean well, and she could hardly fault them for being stubborn and determined; those were two of the very few traits they did share. But if she couldn’t live with them, she certainly wasn’t going to attempt to work for them.
She closed herself in her bedroom and, seeing the fire had already been started, immediately felt better. Maybe she’d just curl up and read something. Anything other than legal documents or contract plans. She flipped through some magazines she’d bought to keep her mind off Jake on the flight back from New Orleans, but they did their job no better now than they had then.
She sat on her bed. It was Friday, which meant he was in Tulsa. She looked at the phone, as she’d done at least a thousand times since she’d gotten back. She still felt horrible for walking out the way she had—but what had really changed? Her father’s health was steadily improving, but she was no closer to making a decision on her future plans now than she was a week ago. Maybe she would just go back to New York. Maybe this whole thing with Jake and her dad had just shaken her confidence in her goals, and when she got back she’d feel that surge of competitiveness that had driven her this far.
She flopped back on her bed. “Or not,” she muttered. She sat up again and grabbed the phone. It was early in L.A., but Liza could be out on the town by now. Well, Natalie needed to confide in someone, and it was way past time to tell her best friend what was really bothering her.
Liza picked up on the fourth ring. “This is Liza. Aren’t you lucky?”
Natalie laughed, already glad she’d made the call. “Yes, I am. But I should give you fair warning that I’m about to sob all over your shoulder. So you might want to come up with a good excuse to get off the phone quickly.”
“Not even if Brad Pitt was waiting for me.”
Natalie laughed. It was that or give in to the tears that she’d been on the verge of shedding. “You do know how much I love you, right?”
“Of course I do. Now spill.”
“And so sentimental, too.”
Liza laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m in no rush here, so take your time and omit nothing. This sounds potentially juicy.”
“You have no idea.”
“Oh God. Hold on. I need to get some chocolate. I swear I wish I could just beam myself across the continent so I could see your face.”
“Why?”
“You’re going to tell me that what’s-his-name, Preston Albert whatever, turned out to be a hunk and has proposed and you’ve accepted, thereby winning over your entire family and turning into a Stepford Holcomb all in one fell swoop.”
Natalie choked on a laugh. “You know, you should be writing screenplays instead of doing public relations. Your imagination is frightening. You’d fit right in.”
“You jest, but I have a secret or two of my own,” she said coyly. And there was a trace of…something else in her voice.
Natalie scooted back on her bed and rested against the headboard. “Don’t tell me, you’re having some wild fling with a director—no, a producer, you’d go for the money—and he’s convinced you to write something for him.”
Instead of the sassy laugh she’d expected, there was a long pause.
“Liza?”
There was a deep breath, then she said, “I know this is your dime and you have something earth-shattering to share, so I should let you go first. But I can’t.”
Natalie didn’t mind in the least. In fact, this was the first time in a week she could honestly say something was taking her mind off Jake and the rest of her problems. “No, please. Share, share.”
“Okay, but we’re going to get back to you. I am armed with chocolate now.”
“Just spill it.”
“I’m not dating a producer. In fact, I’m not dating anyone.” She didn’t let Natalie comment, but hurried on to explain. “After Conrad, I had a personal epiphany of sorts. I’m almost thirty and I’m just tired of fooling around with anyone who catches my fancy. I don’t have the energy for it anymore. Or maybe I don’t have the heart. I’m not sure. What I am sure of is that I don’t want to play anymore. I’m only going to go out with someone who really catches my attention and who I think is worth my time and effort.”
“Whoa.”
Now there was a smile in Liza’s voice. “Yeah, I know.”
“Good for you, Liza.”
“Well, of course, I knew you’d approve, but there’s more to it than that. I’ve also realized that most of my friendships, except with you, are superficial. And that’s because they are all business related. It’s all one big game out here, and while I love it and can’t honestly imagine not being in the thick of it…I don’t know. You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I decided that rather than be the one who gets other people the deals, maybe I’d get myself one.” She laughed, but there was a definite vulnerability to it that Natalie had never heard before. “So you really weren’t that far off, but I’m doing this for me. Not to impress a guy, and not because it will get me something. All I want is the satisfaction of knowing I’m doing this for me. Something that fulfills my needs instead of someone else’s.”
Natalie was nodding the whole time. “Maybe this is why we’re so close. We even have our major life crossroads at the same time.”
That got Liza’s attention. “We are? Do tell.”
“Well, first I have to tell you how proud I am of you. Not only for realizing you needed to make a change in your life, but for having the guts to do something about it once you realized it. I’ve realized I need to make a change, too, but I have no idea what I want to do about it.”
“You’re not going back to Maxwell & Graham? You know, I can’t say I’m surprised. I never saw you as the type to always slave for others. Even partners there have hierarchy. It’s not you.”
That made Natalie pause. Liza just might have hit the nail on the head. “Well, that explains why I can’t work for my family, either. I love them, but you’re right, I need to be on my own. I’ve explained that to them—”
“Oh, and I’m sure they’re hearing everything you have to say. How many proposals have they sent your way? Are your sisters shopping for your house? Do you have a list of acceptable designers to wear, and when is the big coming-out party?”
“You know them too well,” Natalie said, laughing.
“Which is why I’m glad I’m not with you at the moment. I now wish I could beam you here, instead.” Her tone shifted, grew gentler. “You sound like you could use the break. Think things out, figure out what you do want.”
“I wish I could,” she said with a deep sigh.
“Well, then, why don’t you? You know, I have some contacts out here in entertainment law. Maybe—”
“Thank you, Liza, but that’s not for me, either. You’re right, maybe I do need to work for myself.” It was such an obvious choice, she wasn’t sure why she’d never thought of it before. But what kind of practice did she want? And where? Her mind spun with the possibilities.
“God, I’m doing the same thing your family is. I’m sorry. I just want to help.” Liza paused, then said, “Wait a minute. You said there was juicy stuff. If it’s not Preston Albert, then who?”
“What makes you so sure there is a ‘who’?”