Leon leaves me to mingle, which I’m a little unsure of. I’ve never been shy, but there is something about being the new girl that makes me feel—skittish? I don’t know. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what I’m feeling other than grateful...and maybe a little overwhelmed but in a good way. As I look around the room at my new co-workers, grateful is definitely how I feel. I’ve been given this opportunity, and I plan to make the best of it.
The buffet is calling my name, evident by the low rumble in my stomach. I place my hand over my mid-section to stifle the noise and walk as quickly as I can to the table. Fresh fruits, sandwiches, salads, and cookies fill the space.
“I’m Aiden.”
I look up from the plate I’m trying to fill and smile. “Nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand but . . .” I shrug and show him that both of my hands are full.
“No worries.” He reaches across me to add a sandwich, a bag of chips, and a stack of cookies to his plate, and then he waits for me. When I’m done, he motions for me to sit down. “What do you think of Portland?”
“I like it so far. It’s definitely a change from Dickinson, but right in line with Chicago.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
His question catches me mid-bite. I shake my head and then cover my face with my napkin. Eating in front of people can be so embarrassing. “No, I’m from Corpus Christi, Texas.”
“Wow.” His eyes go wide. “You’re really expanding your horizons. How come you didn’t go back to Texas after school?”
“I wanted something different, and I don’t necessarily want to live in Texas for the rest of my life. Going back to visit my family is enough for right now. Where are you from?”
“Here,” he says. “My wife and I have a house across the river in Vancouver. Both of us were born and raised in the area.”
“Well, then I know who to come to when I need something to do.”
Aiden laughs. “My wife would love that. She’s a party planner. Does mostly weddings and fundraisers.”
“That sounds like a fun job.”
“She loves it. I’ll have her stop by the station soon so you can meet.” We’re silent for a moment until he asks, “Do you know Peyton Westbury?”
I shake my head. “No, should I?”
“Leon said you went to Northwestern, right?” I nod. “She’s from there as well. Sometimes Peyton fills in for me when I’m out. She works for the Portland Pioneers.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she’s about your age. I guess I figured she recommended you to Leon.”
“No, I don’t think so, but I’m going to have to look her up.”
“I’m sure you’ll meet her eventually. She’s here a lot.”
“I look forward to it.”
After lunch, the Meyers rep shows up, and I sit, well, mostly stand, through a three-hour fitting. I don’t remember the last time—if there ever was a time—I tried on so many outfits and pairs of shoes. I swear, my body is moving in a constant up and down motion from all the high-heeled shoes. The rep seemed satisfied when she left, though, and told me I’d have an outfit hanging in my room when I came in tomorrow. Once she and Lisette finish chatting, Lisette and I walk to the newsroom to watch the evening news broadcast.
Seeing my co-workers deliver the news is exciting. I’m eager to stand up there and provide the weather, but when I hear Selena tell the viewers that I’m starting tomorrow, my heart beats faster. I’m excited and ready, and Selena, Arthur, and Aiden seem eager as well.
It’s dark when I leave the station. Aiden offers to give me a ride home, which I graciously accept. He goes into what I call “Dad mode” and tells me I need to either take a rideshare home from work if I’m going to walk in or drive both ways at least until spring when it’s light enough to walk after the five o’clock segment and then drive back. I appreciate someone looking out for me.
When I get back to my apartment, I pour myself a glass of wine before going through one of the boxes I haven’t emptied yet, looking for my college yearbook. I thought it odd that my mother insisted on me buying them, but I did. I flip through the one from my senior year, searching for Peyton, and find nothing. Then my junior year, still nothing. It’s not until my sophomore year that I come across a Peyton. Only her last name is Powell-James. Nothing close to what Aiden had said. Her bio says we were in the same sorority, but I don’t remember her at all.
With my curiosity piqued, I pick up my phone and call Veronica, one of my sorority sisters. She’s a year ahead of me, and we talk often. She never mentioned a sister living in Portland though when I told her I was moving out here.