This is my chance. It is an opportunity to salvage my future and I am not going to turn it down. I type out my acceptance, hit reply, then drop my phone into my shoulder bag.
I am going to get this account, if it is the last thing I do.
The train pulls into Mill Hill East tube station, and I step off.
The phone dings again with a text message.
Isla: Soooo sorry, had a work emergency. You know how it is with us wedding planners...
Me: Now you tell me! You got me into so much trouble you biatch!
Isla: What... what? Did you meet someone at the bar?
Me: No, I didn't. Is that all you can think of and... hold on... you wouldn't do that to me, eh?
I huff.
Me: Would you?
Isla: What are you talking about?
Me: You stood me up on purpose?
Isla: Moi? What are you talking about?
Me: So help me Isla, if I find out you did this to me...
Isla: Is he that hot?
Me: No.
Isla: A dominant stranger with a take charge attitude that melts your panties and makes you want to lick him up?
Me: What is it with your hang up with obstinate mules... I mean males?
Isla: Ha, ha. *snort* Don't mock it until you've tried it.
Me: I have no idea what you're talking about.
Isla: Sometimes you need a hug you know...?
Me: Exactly.
Isla:.... on your backside... with a paddle.
Me: What the...
Isla: Administered by an obnoxious know-it-all who doesn't take no for an answer.
Me: Sweet baby goats, are you getting off on this text message, Isla? I swear if you are...
Isla: Sorry... sorry... *not*, you're waaay too uptight my girl. Give in, live a little.
Me: If by that you mean fantasizing about some alpha male making rough love...
Isla: Don't bring that four letter emotion into the mix.
Me: Yeah, not all of us want to be controlled.
Isla: Famous last words.
Me: Thanks for shoving your kink in my face.
Isla: Hey, how did you guess that I love doing that?
Me: TMI, bye.
Isla: Are you blushing, West? I bet you are. Seriously I'm sorry for standing you up. Last minute change, a bride called off her wedding and uh, it wasn't pretty.
Me: Wow, good luck handling the pieces of that.
Isla: I'm gonna need it for this one. PS, the bridegroom walked into the office and he's not happy.
Me: Can't your boss handle him?
Isla: She's not around. And gah! This man is completely unreasonable! But wow! Is he smokin' hot. *gulp* Wish me luck.
Me: Luck! Go get him GF.
Isla: Laters xxx
Typical Isla, always taken in by a pretty face. And I’m not?
I suck my cheeks in, drop my phone into my tote bag.
Walking out of the tube station, I race home, then up the short flight of steps leading into the one-bed apartment I share with my sister.
For how much longer, though? If I can’t keep up the rental payments on it…? I'll find a way, I will.
"Karma?" I cross the living room into the tiny bedroom.
"Summer?" My sister glances up from her embroidery machine.
Her dark hair flows around her face. Her skin seems paler than usual.
I sink down on the bed across from her, "You okay?."
Her amber eyes flare. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"No reason." I shuffle my feet.
"No breathlessness, no numb fingers or toes. The hole in my heart hasn't eaten me up completely." Her lips thin. "Yet."
"Why do you get so defensive about your condition?"
"Umm, let's see." She holds up a finger tipped with black nail-polish, "Because I'm trying to live and you keep thrusting my disease in my line of sight every time you bring it up?"
I draw in a sharp breath. "That's being uncharitable. Just because I worry about you and do my best to take care of you—"
"—doesn't make you my mother."
All the blood drains from my face. Bet I'm as pale as her, though on Karma, her dark goth get-up enhances her luminous beauty.
On me... bet I am as chalky as the paint on the wall behind her.
"Hell, sorry, Summer." She blows out a breath. "I'm more on edge than usual. Tomorrow's market day, so I need to get my clothes done in time. I need to be at Camden Market before 5 am so..." She raises her shoulders.
"Right, I'll leave you to it then."
I jump up, head for the door.
"Summer, stop."
I cross the floor to the small counter on the far side that doubles as our kitchen. Fill a glass with water from the tap and drink from it.
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier." Karma pauses at the doorway to the bedroom.
"You know how to get to me, don't you?" I firm my lips.
"My specialty, Sis. Chalk it up to my teenage hormones."
I snort, then turn and lean a hip against the counter, "You're almost as clever with words as you are with your clothing designs."
She holds up a hand, "Uh, oh, I sense a Summer sermon, coming on."
"Don't be ridiculous." I redden. "It's just, I don't understand why you'd give up a paid fashion scholarship at Central Saint Martins..."
"They were too mainstream." She sets her jaw.
"What's wrong with that?" I throw up my hands.
"Do you see what you're wearing?"
I glance down at myself, "You made it." I raise my shoulders. "It's offbeat but... it mirrors my personality."
"Exactly." She tosses her head, "My ideas are too... off-beat for their sensibilities."
"So?" I tilt my chin up, "You could have... adjusted..."
She stares, "Says the woman who is a walking talking encyclopedia of trivia that's largely useless."
"That..." I rub my forehead, "That's different."
"Right." She snorts. "How many other twenty-one year-old women can give trivia nerds a run for their money?"
I wrap my arms around my waist. "I'm not sure that's something to be proud of," I mumble.
"You made enough money winning pub quizzes and TV game shows."
"It was one show—"
"That earned you £100,000." She raps her knuckles against the door frame. "It’s kept us going this far."
That's how we've survived since I left the homeless hostel at nineteen.
It was because of the money that I'd been able to take on responsibility for Karma and pull her out of the care system. I'd also used a portion of it to launch my marketing consultancy.
I'd expanded the scope to supply quizzes to pubs, bars, parties and to my growing list of online subscribers who love to receive a daily trivia quiz from me... For a fee.
My dream job.
I thrust out my chest. I had defined it, created it, pursued it. I bite the inside of my cheek. What had I been thinking? Following my intuition? Thought I could earn a living from my passion for movies?
Why did I have to turn down the job of marketing manager for the—ugh! —accounting firm? I hunch my shoulders.
It would have paid well, allowed for specialist medical consultations for my sister. I'd been bloody selfish, that's what.
I'd held onto some stupid notion that I could have whatever I wanted without compromising on my dreams. Except, I'd lost the client who contributed to 80% of my business.