1
_____
Brynn
Jealousy was something I didn’t honestly think myself capable of. Then I saw the way my friend Jenna’s client stared at her a few weeks ago when he dropped by our lunch to give her a flash drive. The way he was so careful to make sure their fingers brushed as he handed it over had made me shiver.
I’d always dreamed of love but thought it was like winning the lottery. Most people I knew seemed to settle for someone they mostly got along with, and made the best of it.
My mother told me that she had loved my father when they first met, but seeing their bitter divorce when I was nine, I couldn’t quite believe it. Since then, I’d dreamed of finding love that would last, even though it seemed like it would be a lengthy, complicated process.
Dating, getting to know one another over small talk – it honestly felt like an ordeal. Especially since talking to men was difficult for me when it was personal. Opening up to a man felt too intimate. Frightening.
I arrived early enough for lunch with my friends at the Riverview Restaurant that I had time to write in my notebook for a few minutes before the others arrived.
A coffee was slid in front of me, making me jump slightly. “Thanks, Anna.”
She smiled, setting down three menus without even asking. By the time Corina and Jenna had arrived and ordered, I felt like I had my head on straight again.
“So,” Corina began, giving Jenna the side-eye, “Tell us more about this Andrew guy.”
“It’s crazy. We’re officially dating, completely in love, and he’s already talking about me moving in with him.”
My mouth fell open for a second. “You’re kidding.”
“No, not at all. I mean, I’m not moving for a couple of months, at least. I’m not totally crazy.”
“Just crazy in love,” Corina laughed. “I knew it when I saw the way he stared at you. It’s like the way Brynn stares into her coffee – absolute adoration.”
Jenna told us all about the big event that threw them together, and I tried not to feel jealous of my friend. But falling in love so quickly would be incredibly convenient. The thing was, would I be able to trust it?
Jenna seemed to be taking things slow, and was keeping her head on straight. I had to wonder if I’d be able to do the same if I was ever lucky enough to meet someone who replaced the constant tune in my head with a love song.
Nodding in time to the fifties classic on the old jukebox, Corina turned to me. “You haven’t mentioned work lately. How are things over there?”
The three of us all worked at different PR firms and often shared notes and ideas on our projects.
“Pretty good,” I shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. “There is an account for an older company that wants to raise their profile, but they’re so huge, and have so many product lines, it’s like...where do we even start, you know?”
Jenna nodded, staring down at her mug. “Yeah, starting is always the hardest part.”
“If they’re huge, start small,” Corina said thoughtfully, trailing her finger around the edge of her teacup. “Remember in school, Mr. Rasnovksi said to start the mind whirling on the opposite of what seems sensible?”
I laughed. “Yes. The illogical pointing out clearer paths, since we’re already thinking about something outside the box.”
“It can work,” Jenna agreed. “My boss does that sometimes.”
“Thanks,” I said, making a note in my book.
By the time I got back to the office, my mind was swimming with possibilities. Settling at my desk, I re-read the brief on Silversong Records.
They’d been pumping out classic vinyl, cassettes, and CDs for years, and were finally promoting their music online. Although they specialized in music on physical media, they were focused on getting rare music to people any way they could.
They were a bit fanatical about it. Honestly, if someone asked for an album on 8-track, they’d likely find a way.
Setting out a huge sheet of paper across my desk, I started doodling. What was the opposite of a huge music company with thousands of products and millions of albums?
One album.
My pen swirled around the page in circles. Larger, smaller, spirals. Maybe not the entire album, just a song or two.