No Fresh Starts by Kate O’lere
Synopsis
Sophie reconnects with Mark 6 years after his wedding to her estranged friend, Emily. Mark moves to LA as part of his efforts to put his life back together after falling on hard times and separation from Emily. He needs Sophie’s help on a new business venture in LA where Sophie has lived for the past 5 years. With the awkward history between them and the utmost need for professionalism in their new business, Sophie did not expect any romance going on, but with every moment they spend together, she finds it harder to resist his charm.
Strictly Professional
The soft afternoon light spills across Sophie’s cluttered desk, striking her rough silver coffee mug. The glare from the mug crosses her sight but she determined not to be distracted, her fingers flying over her keyboard as she tweaks the contrast on a bridal portrait. The bride’s smile is radiant, the lace intricate, but Sophie’s mind is miles away.
A phone alarm BLARES: 5:00 PM – Meeting w/ Mark.
She exhales sharply, running a hand through her messy bun. The cursor hovers over the “SAVE” button a bit too long before she slams her laptop shut.
She drags her butt across her stool, stepping away from her desk. She eyed her coffee mug a third time while receding to the bathroom before she rushed back to her desk to grab the mug. She gulped off the rest of the coffee. Satisfied, she takes the empty mug with her to toss in the sink on her way to her bathroom.
She spent the whole of ten minutes just standing under her shower, letting the lukewarm water fall on her head and shoulders without bothering with any scrub. She had 15 minutes to get dressed and join Mark Bronie at the cafe downtown. She took a little more than a moment to ponder about Mark and the meeting. Maybe more about Mark than the meeting. He had said he wanted to discuss a business proposition with her, but was that all he wanted to talk about? She couldn’t guess what else he had in mind but she also couldn’t shake off the sense that there was going to be more to their meeting than just some cryptic business he had refused to talk about in more details in his text. If she can guess what else he wanted, she could better decide how to dress for it.
She went to her desk to get her phone. When in doubt of what to wear, she always called Cassey. Cassy did not pick the call, so she called a second time. Again, there was no Cassy, so Sophie left her a text.
Going for a business lunch with an old male acquaintance. Fashion idea?
Then she opened her closet, hoping Cassy comes to her rescue before she create a fashion disaster. The formal dress side of her closet is a practical mix of blacks, greys, and muted tones. They are efficient but unremarkable. She pulls out a crisp, white button-down and a pair of dark jeans with stoned butterfly pattern on the hip sides. Professional, but not overly formal. LA kind of casual.
Her phone rings, CASSY’s name flashing. Sophie answers on speaker as she buttons her shirt. “Cas, I already started dressing up. Shame on you.”
“You better not be wearing that sad beige blazer again.”
“It’s cream. And it’s fine. It’s just a business meeting.”
“With Mark Bronie? That guy from Dallas?”
Sophie only just realised she had told Cassy about this meeting and a little about Mark yesterday. She’s a little embarrassed. “It’s just Mark and it’s all business.”
“Ohhh, The Mark whose wedding photos you burned, but it’s just Mark…”
“I deleted them. Professionally.”
“…and then cried into a pint of gelato named ‘Regret.’”
“You wanna suggest what I should wear or you just wanna sit there and run disparaging commentaries on my past?”
“Jeez, so touchy. Switch to video so I can see what you have on.”
Sophie turned the camera to herself then rested the phone on the edge of her pillow.
Sophie glares at the phone. Cassy’s cackle is muffled as she faceplants into her palms.
“What about this?” Sophie grumbled, holding up a navy sweater.
Cassy shook her head, holding on to a mute smirk.
“Too casual?”
“Babe, it’s LA. He’ll think you’re in yacht marketing. Go with the green V-neck. It’s subtle cleavage, but accidental. Like you might have a soul.”
“We’ve not seen in six years, what about I look more like my profile photo, you know, so no one is…”
“Please correct me if I’m wrong, but are we back to making this a date?”
Sophie sighed, “Never mind. I’ll go with the green V-neck.”
“Good girl,” Sophie chuckled.
“Wish me luck.”
“Nah. Wish him survival.”
Sophie walks back to her dressing table to wear some perfume. She meets her own gaze in the mirror on her way. She adjusts a curl and Inhales.
Sophie grabs her keys, steps out of her apartment and into the golden haze of an LA evening.
*****************
Sophie pulls into the parking lot of The Grind, a trendy but unpretentious café. She glanced at her phone to notice she was eight minutes late. She tried to convince herself it wasn’t going to make any damming impression on her professionalism, after all, he had refused to elaborate on what kind of business he had her out here for.
Through the window, she spotted Mark already seated at a corner table, scrolling through his phone. She stepped aside the door for a couple getting out and hurried into the restaurant before the door they left open for her shut over her face. She kept her eyes in his direction once she entered and started walking towards him. He looked up as she entered. He nodded at her. No warm smile or anything with a casual clue, just a quick, professional nod.
She takes a steadying breath and thought to herself, this is just business.
Sophie slides into the chair across from Mark. The air between them is polite, slightly stiff, like two coworkers forced to collaborate. They locked eyes and he stiffened his lower jaw in what may be classified as an attempted grin. He’s wearing a light blue button-down shirt with thin black strips. No tie, and no jacket. The shirt left one button loose, and the sleeves were rolled only four inches above the wrists.
“You found the place okay?” Mark said, smiling, but not too warmly.
Sophie adjusted her bag beside her and returned the smile, careful to match his energy, “GPS exists for a reason.”
They seemed quite comfortable to let an awkward pause reign for as long as it was going to take. But a waiter broke it after only some seconds. She handed them the menus with a polite grin. She was going to leave them for a second so they can make up their minds, but Mark was ready to place his order immediately.
“I will have the black coffee,” his finger on the item on the menu.
This was when Sophie noticed his wedding ring was missing, but the tan line round his ring finger appeared fresh. She knew it could be several reasons like he recently misplaced it and hadn’t had a chance to replace it or something else that totally makes sense. But why did it make her heart skip?
“Large or medium?” Waiter asked, maintaining her sweet smile.
“Large.”
“Would that be all? Our iced chocolate muffin is fantastic; you should try it.”
“I’m sure it is, but the coffee is all I will have.”
The waiter turned to Sophie and before she could say a word to her, Sophie simply said, “I’ll have an oat milk latte. Medium.”
“Excellent choice,” the waiter said and went away in delight without trying to sell her some muffin or doughnut.
“How has life been doing with you out here?” he asked with that same measured smile.
She shrugged, “As fairly as it could possibly manage.”
“Which is to a great deal, giving all indications.”
“What indications.”
“How radiant you look,” he said neatly.
“Oh that,” she tried hard not to smile, and she could swear she was doing a great job until his face creased, and she saw the twinkle in his eyes.
Mark leaned forward slightly, “Look, I owe you an apology for being vague over text. I just,” he rubs his temple, “I’m better at pitching things in person.”
Sophie raised her eyebrow, “Pitching?”
“Yeah,” he nodded.
She shrugged, “Well, here I am in person, pitch away.”
He squares his shoulders, “You see, I have this old high school buddy, Paulie.”
She chuckled.
He searched her face.
“Pardon me, you just didn’t strike me as someone who went to high school with a Paulie.”
“Well, now that you mentioned it that way, it’s beginning to come off odd.”
“But don’t let me interrupt you from your pitch.”
***********
“Yes, the pitch. See, my buddy Paulie and I use to be cool back then. Not exactly best friends but we were cool. Just cool. Paulie got in touch with me recently after so many years of us not talking. He’s made some good stash of cash from Bitcoin and what not. Now he wants to start a podcast.”
“Don’t they all?”
He chuckled a dry chuckle, “He thinks he’s got something to say.”
“About what?”
“I honestly didn’t bother to find out. That is beside the point. What you have to know is, we were having this conversation about four or five months after I lost my job and was fast running out of my savings. I wasn’t questioning anything coming out his mouth. All I cared about was that he was quoting big numbers in his offers to me, and I was broke.”
“I can see how that plays.”
“Now, between you and me, I do not know the first thing about production or studios or anything like that. He wants his studio to be set up in LA because as he said, this is where most of his intended guests live.”
“What is your role?”
“Producer or something like that. He basically wants me to help set up his own studio then manage the day-to-day productions and broadcasting. We haven’t put an official title to it.”
“And the pay is good?”
“The pay is generous.”
“Why did Paulie call an old friend who has no production background out of the blue and offer him generous money to produce his new podcast?”
“Because Paulie knew I used to work in a PR firm, and he thinks PR and media production are the same thing. Again, like I said, I was desperate and didn’t think correcting him was the wise thing to do.”
She giggled, “I get a Dallas boy’s hustle.”
“You’re a Dallas girl, you should.
They both laughed. His deep but cackling laugh reminded her of the night Emily brought him to her studio for her dress fitting. It was the week before their wedding. They enjoyed some banters and jokes mostly from him and he would laugh to his own jokes in a way she found endearing. It has been six years. The laughter was the same. And the way it tickled her was the same too and she was embarrassed about that fact.
“Where do I come in, sir?”
“I have sought of kept up with you on Facebook. You’re the only person I know in LA who does anything close. And you do what you do with passion, plus you’re immensely skilled.”
Sophie sips her coffee, considering. She thought his tone was earnest, but there’s no hint of emotional manipulation, just a guy out of his depth and knew it. “I can help with branding shots, some B-roll if you need it. But I’m not a videographer per se, but I do know my way around cameras and those stuff.”
“I will take that.”
“I can also advice on set designs, lighting, maybe a bit on sound but you would need another person altogether for the real thing.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“Let’s just say I’m only good to get you started, but from then on you would have to hire real profesh guys.”
He threw up his hands in a slight excitement, “Oh for sure, we would hire people for the real stuff. So’s let’s say you’re a consultant for the prelaunch side of things. That includes buying equipment and tools, studio location scouting, studio design and stuff, and recruitments.”
“Sounds right to me.”
“What would it cost us to have your services for two weeks?”
“Two weeks?”
“I’m assuming that is how long it would take us to have everything set up.”
“It may take more,” she readjusted on her chair.
“One month?”
“We can work with that.”
“Of course that won’t be goodbyes yet. We will talk of continuations after we’re off the ground on a different engagement level.”
“Seems right.”
“So, how much.”
“Ten thousand,” she said abruptly without thinking about it.
He didn’t flinch, “Perfect. It’s a deal,” he extended his hand to shake her.
She took it with regret. Why didn’t she mention something higher? Yes, ten grand already sounded like a lot based on her current income from her photography business. She imagined what would sound generous to her and ten was what first came to mind. Apparently, generous meant something else to a former Partner in a leading PR Firm in Dallas. And certainly, it meant something else to a crypto bro who lacked inspiration on what to do with money.
She watched him finish his coffee with a sigh of satisfaction.
He licked his lips for the very last of the coffee and said to her, “Decent coffee.”
She smiled, “They do good stuff here,” then followed it quickly with, “what next?”
He sat up, “You tell me, please.”
“First, I should shoot you my contract along with an invoice. Once we have that cleared up, I’m all yours.” She wished she didn’t just say that or at least that he didn’t take it in the way it now sounded in her heard.
“Hmm, I like the sound of that.”
“Sound of what?” she blurted without thinking. Please don’t say the sound of me being all yours.
He shrugged. “Contract and all. If it’s simple enough, we should be able to get it done within hours.”
“No, it’s going to be straightforward,” she lowered her voice, “not like I’m going to be using an attorney, just me in my illiterate language,” she chuckled.
“Thankfully, something I can comprehend.”
She stood and he stood with her as they shake hands again. He held on to her hand a while, keeping an eye contact she found to be awkward in an acceptable way.
“Would it be too soon to start scouting for studios tomorrow?” He said, still holding the handshake.
“If we do the paperwork tonight, why not?”
“I knew you were gonna be super like this,” he winked.
She reclaimed her hand. The charming wink on top of the hand contact was too much. While he may still have the same effect he had on her six years ago, she would like to keep all of this as professional as it can be.
She picked up her bag and started walking away. For a second, she thought he was following her, and it would have been okay, she would have liked it even. But when she looked back, she found he was on the same spot, watching her leave.
He smiled at her. She smiled back and withdrew her face nearly instantly before her smile faded. Before she exited the door, she wanted to look back to see if he was still watching her, but she feared she would catch him smile at her and she would be forced to smile back and it would start looking too much like a Romcom and that would be all she would think about on her way home. So, she settled for the assumption he was watching her and put a hint of sway on her steps.
