Page 4 of Hello, Summer
“Headed home.”
“I thought Kevin took over the Seventh Street lease. Isn’t that going to be awkward?”
“Not home to Midtown. Home, home.”
“You mean, like, Lickskillet, Florida?”
“It’s Silver Bay. Sweet Home, Florida.”
“Seriously? Is that really necessary?”
“Afraid so,” she said. “Where else could I go? Tiana’s place is the size of a shoebox, and anyway, I’m allergic to her cats.”
“I have a perfectly nice sofa, no cats, and premium cable,” he said.
“You also have a brand-new boyfriend,” Conley said.
“So that’s it? You’re disappearing, just like that?”
“Strictly temporary. Roger promised to make some calls for me, and in the meantime, I’ll start sending out my résuméand clips. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“I guess Florida is better than camping out in a van down by the river,” he said, sounding unconvinced.
“Lots better. I’ll stay with my grandmother. Her house is a God-honest mansion. She’s been begging me to come home for months now.”
“You’d better call me as soon as you get there,” he said. “What’s the name of that town again?”
“Silver Bay.”
He sniffed. “Never heard of it.”
2
Conley’s phone rang just as she was merging onto I-185 near Columbus.
Fred Ward. She punched the Connect button.
“Uh, hi, Conley.” His voice, amplified on the phone’s speaker, filled the car’s box-filled interior. “Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Things have been crazy.”
“SoThe Wall Street Journalhad it right? You’re shutting downIntelligentsia?”
“Shit.The Journalhas the story?”
“My sister, who runs a crappy weekly in Florida, had the story three hours ago.” She knew she sounded shrill and unhinged, but she didn’t care.
“Yeah, I’m sorry you had to hear about it like that,” he said. “It’s been a pretty wild couple of days.”
“You couldn’t have let me know the company was about to tank six weeks ago? When you extended the job offer?”
“Six weeks ago, we all thought we were getting a ten-million-dollar infusion of new capital,” Ward said, immediately on the defensive. “The publisher didn’t let anybody know how dire things were until this latest round of financing failed. If it makes you feel any better, I’m out of a job too. We all are.”
Her voice shook with fury. “It doesn’t make me feel any better. I quit my job, broke up with my boyfriend, gave up my apartment in Atlanta. I’m out like $5,000 on the deposits for what was supposed to be my new place in D.C.”
“Sorry,” he said. “You’ll be hearing from HR. They’re working on outplacement.”
“Awesome,” Conley said, her voice dripping sarcasm. “Good luck, Fred.”
She tapped the disconnect button and turned her eyes back to the road. Two hours later, she spotted the familiar billboard.
