Good Pet

Chapter One

Melissa

Not born a woman of habit or routine, I’ve become one.

I’ve changed just about as much as a woman can change.

I’ve become more responsible, more committed to a “career” and to what I can make out of my life than I ever was while I was in school or at other times in my past.

And on days like today, where I’m waiting for my boyfriend to call me before I head off to another great day at work (how many people can say that, am I right?), I get to thinking about how my outer world is a reflection of my inner one.

I live in New York, in a rather swanky part of Manhattan and in an even swankier condo. It’s one I bought with my own money, and furnished with the finest, most modern furniture I could find.

It’s all sleek and fun to look at, but it’s also comfortable. One of my most favorite pieces is my computer desk and chair combo. It’s curvy, and black, with silver designs and it’s the perfect match for my high-end laptop.

All of this is a far cry from how I grew up, and from where I was just ten years ago. I was in London, England, and in a less than desirable part of town.

I know that London sounds romantic. It always does to Americans or people who haven’t grown up there.

Yes, for sure, it’s beautiful. Yes, for double sure, it has history unlike anywhere on the planet Earth, but like all things with history, that’s not always a good thing.

Sometimes it’s a reminder that things aren’t what they should be, or that they could be better than they are. Very often, it’s not worth holding onto the past.

History can chain you up and hold you prisoner to it before you even realize that’s what happened. This is one of the reasons — aside from not being able to get a job in my home country — that I ended up coming to the United States, and ultimately, to Manhattan.

I wanted to broaden my horizons. I wanted to go someplace with a different kind of history and a different vibe. A place that was wider open or more unpredictable.

At first, my parents weren’t thrilled at all with my moving to America. Especially since that move was necessitated by the fact that I couldn’t seem to get any employers in London to pay me much attention.

My father kept going on about how my education should’ve gotten me more opportunities. My mother kept going on about how that education was one of the best in the world and that America, of all countries, should not be the country to profit from it. She wanted me to stay in England, where she said I belonged.

But I couldn’t turn down the job at McKenzie Technologies ten years ago. There was just something about it that yelled at me to apply.

A little voice in my head said, Apply for this now, Melissa. Or else you’ll never get your chance to see outside your own backyard. So, I followed my gut and applied.

To my complete surprise, I was not only offered the job, but Kane McKenzie, the CEO of the company, agreed to pay for my moving costs. Kane even paid for the first month of payments for my new condo. It was that act of kindness that helped me work for a man who has become one of my best friends.

My entire family- my mom, my dad, and my two brothers- were just as critical as you would expect. They didn’t encourage my dreams but instead all they did was repeatedly list all the reasons why I shouldn’t go. Over and over, they repeated why I would do so much better in London if I just applied myself a little more, acting like the problem was with me rather than with scarce job opportunities in the area, but my mind was already made up and my heart was already set. I already knew I needed to go work for this company — McKenzie Tech. And so, without my family’s blessing, I moved here.

I set up my life here slowly but surely, and now I’m not just “scraping by.”

I’m thriving in my professional life.

Now, if I could only do the same in my personal life.

A little over a year ago, I met the man of my dreams. Dennis was different than the CEOs and rich men that I was surrounded with in my work life. He rode a Harley and often wore a leather jacket. The bad boy vibe was too much for me to resist.

So, I fell madly in love with him, even though, a few months into our relationship, his work moved him to Paris. He remains committed to me, despite the fact that in the last year, I’ve never flown out to France, and he’s never come back to Manhattan to visit me.