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.Why did I always make things so hard?I threw my head back against my chair and swiveled around.No more staring idly out the window.I had to get my footing and my head out of my ass.My email inbox was jam packed.I skimmed through for items that might be urgent.My eye caught on one that read:From: Derek Loves BessRe: Finding My Way Back To True NorthMy breath caught.My fingers were at my throat.I clicked the email open.Bess,I’ve come to realize a lot over the last few days.The most important is that True North isn’t a song.It’s a person—you—and a place—home.I’m lost without you in my life.For the last nine years I’ve been too busy to wander aimlessly, but now I’m tortured by thoughts of True North—you and I.Home.I’ve had a taste and I want more.There are countless reasons and apologies to be made and they’ll be delivered to you soon.I hope they aren’t too late.I love you.DerekI read it fifteen times at least, trying to decipher what it meant.He wanted more.He and I.Home.My office phone bleeped and Karen’s voice came through on speaker.“Bess, I just got a press release on behalf of Bast.It says he has stepped off of the stage and out from behind the microphone to take on clients as a producer under the production company he’s founded.True North Productions based out of Santa Cruz.”I gripped the edge of my desk and dove forward toward the phone.“What?”“You heard me.He’s having a press conference tomorrow—on your street.In Santa Cruz.”“What?” My brain zoomed in circles like a haywire Ferris wheel.When had he come to this conclusion? Not like he didn’t act on every idea that sprung to life in his mind—firing his manager and breaking the contract with Unholy Union.Of course, his gut reactions were typically correct.But it was an enormous, life-altering decision and he’d done it without talking to me.If he was serious about wanting us—home—together, I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t have reached out to me to discuss this.“Hang on,” Bess said.“Adrian’s on the other line.”“Ask him what he knows about this,” I said, pushing my chair away from my desk.“Great idea.Wish I would’ve thought of it.” She hung up.Smartass.What did this mean? He was moving back to Santa Cruz?I paced my office with my hand pressed to my stomach before it lurched up out of my mouth.Thankfully, I hadn’t eaten lunch.I couldn’t shake the feeling of being left behind even though he was going home.What did he expect of me? Anything?My phone vibrated with a text.I grabbed it off of my desk.It was my mom.We’ll be home late tonight.Come home first thing tomorrow morning.Very important.Why did I feel like I was the last person to be let in on a joke? I knew my parents were getting home sometime this week, but I didn’t think it was tonight.I should’ve written it down when she told me they were going to Europe for two weeks, but it wasn’t like I would’ve seen them anyway.I usually only talk to her on the phone or through texts.If I needed to know when she was getting back, Emmy would know.She kept track of everything family related.I texted back:Wasn’t planning on coming.You need me there?It was too coincidental that she’d want me home the day Derek was having a press release there.How was he going to work out of his parents’ house with stars coming and going all the time and the paparazzi lurking night and day?Her text came back right away:Yes.Very important.Be home early.xoxoThere was no way out of it.I was going home to Santa Cruz in the morning.It was a good thing my car was so fuel efficient with the miles I’d been putting on it.I wandered out into the reception area where Karen was busy on her laptop.“Adrian know anything?”She shook her head, but didn’t look up from her screen.“Nope.”“Want to ride to Santa Cruz with me in the morning?” I leaned my elbows on the purple Formica, u-shaped counter above her desk.“I’m not going.You’ll be there to cover it.”She was even more obstinate than usual since putting in her notice.There was no point in demanding she go.She’d just quit and not wait until I replaced her.“Some friend you are.” I sulked back into my office.The day dragged by.I had an afternoon meeting with a potential advertising client and met him in the conference room off of our lobby.My graphics design manager, advertising manager and sales rep did most of the talking while my mind looped again and again to Derek’s email and the press release.Maybe his sudden change in career paths wasn’t so sudden after all.He’d been struggling to get to a place where he was comfortable again and it hadn’t been behind the microphone where he kept trying to reinvent himself for his fans.Maybe producing was his calling and he finally figured it out.The advertising client stood up along with my two managers and the sales rep.I fumbled to my feet while they shook hands and tried to clue back in to what had gone on.I didn’t even know if we’d made the sale.“Thank you for coming in today,” I said, shaking the client’s hand.“We’ll be in touch,” he said, looking at me with something like dismay on his face.The sales rep walked him out.“Are you okay, Bess?” the ads manager asked.I put a hand on her forearm and tried to smile.“I’m sorry.I have a lot on my mind and zoned out.I shouldn’t have even tried to attend this meeting today.”“I know,” she said, collecting her notepad and planner.“I heard about Bast practically assaulting you at your parents’ house.I can’t imagine trying to work after that.”“What? No! He didn’t do anything.He was pounding on the door trying to get me to listen and let him in.It wasn’t—is that what the media’s reporting? I haven’t been paying attention.”“That’s what’s being printed.The paparazzi who were there have been making statements that you locked yourself inside the house so he couldn’t get to you.”“Oh my God.That’s not true at all.I mean, I didn’t want to talk to him, that’s all.”No wonder he wanted out.It was all too much to take.He couldn’t even have an argument with his girlfriend without it being blown up and made into more than it was.“Maybe you should give your story in the next issue?”I picked up my laptop and tucked it against my chest.“Maybe.” Or maybe I’d let it go and the world would go on without batting an eye.Derek said he didn’t give a shit anymore and it was becoming clear why.Out in the lobby, I puttered behind, wanting to put some distance between myself and the managers.They headed to the elevator and I hung back, squinting in the sun streaming in through the glass front of the building.There was a tinkling, a piano tune, playing faintly outside.I shaded my eyes and looked out.An ice cream truck sat at the curb.It had been forever since I’d seen an ice cream truck outside of the beach areas.Even there it was rare.With permanent vendors set up there was no reason for a truck to come by.A scruffy, older gentleman saw me watching and got out of the truck
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