Rowan
I’m free in thirty. I’ll send you a video call link.
My brother and I hop on to the call thirty minutes later. Zahra pops in to say hi. Rowan’s eyes brighten as he looks up at her while she speaks to me.
Damn. Love looks good on my brother. I’m happy he found someone who could make him look that happy all the time.
Once Zahra leaves, he and I get down to business.
DreamStream was my brother’s baby before he became the director of Dreamland. I’m surprised he hasn’t stepped in to help since they’re struggling, but given how busy he is with the park and Zahra, it makes sense. He doesn’t have time to get involved in other divisions of the company.
So, you’re the next best option?
The seed of doubt plants itself in my head, but I do my best to ignore it.
The longer I speak to Rowan about my assessment, the more enthusiastic and confident I become about everything.
“You really thought this out.” Rowan stares into the camera.
“It was hard to fall asleep last night.” That’s an understatement. It took me hours to knock out after everything with Lana, so the best thing I could do was try to distract myself with DreamStream.
“What do you suggest we do?” He leans back in his office chair.
“I think we need a refresh.”
“How so?”
“I’m pretty sure the guy you appointed grew up with a black-and-white TV that had five channels, so what does he know about streaming?”
“Enough to have lasted this long on the job.” He clasps his hands together underneath his chin.
“He has been floundering and you know it. The numbers aren’t in our favor, and the slow decline dates back to a little after you left the position.”
“Then what do you think is best?” His lips curve upward.
“Ask the board to appoint someone else who actually knows what they’re doing.”
“Like you?”
A laugh explodes out of me. I expect Rowan to follow, but his face remains stone-cold.
“You’re serious?” My smile falls.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m grossly underqualified and equally uninterested in a position like that.” The thought of spending the rest of my days chained to a desk doesn’t spark any joy.
“I’m not suggesting you become a CEO.”
“Then what?”
“A director.”
I bite back my laugh this time.
His brows furrow. “I’m being serious. I heard that there are some issues with the current director in charge of content strategy and analysis.”
“And?”
“You could give it a try.”
I shake my head hard enough to make my neck hurt. “Hell no.”
“Why not?”
“First off, I have no experience.” I tick off a finger.
So much for being a risk-taker.
My teeth grind together as my grandpa’s old nickname for me pops into my head. This isn’t the time to take a risk.
Rowan readjusts his already-perfect tie. “Then start out as an associate.”
“I hate office jobs.”
“DreamStream is different.”
“Why? Because they have breakout rooms and beanbag chairs? Hard pass.”
“I’m talking more about the philosophy.”
I give him a blank stare.
He sighs. “Just think about it.”
“There is nothing to think about because I’m not looking for a job. I just wanted to share what I found.”
“Then be sure to mention it at the next board meeting. I’m sure Mr. Wheeler will be open to suggestions if this month’s report is even more grim than the last.”
“Rowan…” I warn. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself given my lack of experience and the gigantic expectations associated with my last name.
“If you don’t want to join a team that can make a difference, then at least bring it up to the person who can.” He hangs up before giving me a chance to say anything else.
“Asshole.”
Turns out I don’t have to seek Lana out. She comes knocking on my bedroom door with a baby monitor in her hand and a closed-off expression on her face.
“Want to go on a little walk by the lake?” she asks in a soft voice like she hasn’t spent the better part of today avoiding me.
My heart beats harder against my chest. “Sure. Let me grab a pair of sneakers.”
Once I have my shoes tied, I follow Lana out of the house and into the summer night. For the first couple of minutes, neither of us says anything. Crickets fill the silence as we walk toward the dock behind the guesthouse. It’s a much smaller version of the one by the main house, mainly meant for a single boat and a couple of chairs at the end.
Both of us take a seat at the end of the dock. Lana shakes off her flip-flops and swings her legs over the edge so the tips of her toes can graze the water.
“So…” I start because she clearly won’t.
Her eyes flicker from the lake to my face. “What do you have planned after we sell the house?”
The air in my lungs stalls. “What?”
“Do you think you’ll go back to Chicago?”
“Would it matter to you if I go?”
She stares at her toes tracing the water. “It shouldn’t.”
My eyes narrow. “That’s not a real answer.”
Her eyes roll. “Neither is answering my question with another question.”
My lips curve into a small smile. “True. To be honest, I’m not sure what I have planned after selling the house. I didn’t really think that far ahead.”
“Of course you didn’t. It must be nice to not have a job or any responsibilities outside of living in the moment.”
My smile drops. “It’s kind of lonely.”
She snorts. “What? How is that even possible? You have a bajillion friends.”
“I had a bajillion friends. Turns out a lot of them were either too toxic to be around or too fed up with my shitty coping mechanisms.”
Her brows scrunch together like she can’t fathom what I’m telling her. “Iris—”
“Is busy starting her life with my brother.”
“So? That doesn’t mean she can’t spend time with you.”
“She does, but we can’t hang out nearly as much as we used to. And that’s fine. I understand things are different now.”
Her head tilts. “Different how?”
I look up at the starlit sky to avoid her perceptive stare. “I don’t expect her to stop living her life just because I don’t have one.”
“You have a life,” she counters.
A bitter laugh escapes me. “An empty one.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m a nobody, Lana.”
“You’re somebody to me.” Her hand clasps on to mine.
You’re somebody to me.
Her words act like medicine, sinking into my skin and easing the pain of years’ worth of damage from feeling inadequate.
“Do you really mean that?” I rasp.
Her head barely moves as she nods.
“Why didn’t you ask me to stay last night?” I ask the question I’ve been beating myself up over since then.