Author's Note: Glad everyone's enjoying! Reviews appreciated!

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Chapter Nine: Being Realistic… Again

The smell of eggs and coffee filled her nose as Amy's eyes fluttered opened. She wanted her eyelids to shut tight – and stay like that – but the sound of Simon's singing forced her to get up.

The lavender comforter felt heavy on her. My own bed is trapping me here… Amy thought. She yawned and rubbed her face tiredly. The black velvet curtains blocked out the sunrise but Simon must have let the bedroom lamp on. He knew she was normally irritable Monday mornings and it was the toughest day to get her out of bed.

Simon's singing amplified. Amy groaned and crawled out of bed in a pair of black hot pants and a thin white T-shirt.

Her tired body walked zombie-like to the curtains. She lifted her weak arms and pulled apart the curtains.

Light streamed in to the lavender-and-white bedroom. Amy hugged herself in the light and took in a deep breath. The window revealed the beautiful city of Edison, Illinois.

Her nose smelled the coffee and her mouth watered for it.

The twenty-five-year-old woman hadn't changed much since eighteen (in regards to her physical appearance). She had grown two inches taller and, due to the kickboxing classes she took regularly, her physique was more slender and desirable than the body of a lanky teenager. Her breasts had taken a sudden turn her first year of college; Amy had always thought she would be flat-chested forever, but the college years had been good to her: College turned her into a woman.

Amy had always loved her hair was a child. It was a rule, made by her mother, that Amy should never dye her hair in order to keep it soft and looking beautiful naturally.

But after Amy's mother died of cancer, the woman could barely stare at her reflection. "You look like your mother," Amy's uncle's voice rang in her ear. She had died her hair a light brown color and, instead of wearing it straight or slightly wavy, Amy wore her hair curly. The length wasn't as long – the hair now reached her shoulders.

Her family's history of terrible eyesight caught up with Amy so she wore contacts. In order to not stare into the familiar pair of green eyes in the mirror, she had found a set that gave her dark brown eyes.

Boston's Amy Jensen had disappeared and the successful Aimes Jensen of Edison had taken her place.

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Amy stepped into the kitchen to find Simon waiting with a plate of breakfast. Her hair was still damp from the shower and she wore a gray, silvery robe.

Simon rested the newspaper on the black kitchen table and greeted Amy, "Good morning."

"'Morning," Amy murmured. She sat down and accepted the coffee Simon had brewed.

"I never thought you'd get up," Simon pointed out.

Amy took a sip. "I didn't think you'd be cooking breakfast."

The muscular blonde grinned at her. Amy called her the "Ken doll" due to his Barbie-like appearance. He was a beautiful man, nonetheless, but Amy could never ignore the bright blonde hair, perfect teeth, and the smile that all dentists and supermodels could admire. "I know how you are with Monday mornings," Simon added, "I thought I would just make the process easier."

He pushed the plate of eggs in front of her. Her favorite: scrambled with cheese sprinkled on the top.

"You know me so well," Amy whispered.

Simon got up from the table and leaned over to Amy. His full, soft lips met hers and Amy responded by kissing him back. When the two pulled away, Amy smiled at him and touched his face. "Thank you."

He bowed like a gentleman. "I know you like to have your own space. I get it – I've been asking you to move in with me for about five months now…"

"Not that again," Amy whined. She placed her coffee back on the table. "I like this apartment."

"I like it too," Simon agreed, "and your stuff would look great in my apartment." He laughed. "I would offer to move here but I know you would never have that."

Amy sat Indian-style in her chair. She combed her wet hair with her fingertips. "Simon, please, not now." She closed her eyes. "I got a lot going on this week. I have to meet with the board about the merger and discuss all the plans about the Arts for All program…"

Simon nodded and grabbed Amy's empty cup of coffee. He went to the gray-and-black marble top kitchen counter and poured more black liquid from the Mr. Coffee machine.

"You guys have been discussing the merger for weeks. I don't see why you guys just can't settle, become best friends, and get with the program," Simon asked.

Amy rolled her eyes. "It's not that simple. Berton doesn't want to switch locations, Regan & Ellis don't care for travel, and-"

"I get it Aimes," Simon groaned. "I understand the business. I am the curator of the museum you work at after all."

"Don't remind me," Amy added playfully. "I hate it when you remind me of your superiority."

Simon smiled. "I know…" He gave Amy her fresh cup of coffee and kissed her neck.

Amy laughed. "Besides it's your dad that's the actual curator… you're like… Prince Curator-"

"Don't remind me," Simon echoed. He sat back down at the kitchen table. "He told me about all the big plans you guys have set up. You want everything settled by Christmas. Wishful thinking, don't you agree?"

Amy shook her head. "If we can get Arts for All picked up for intercity neighborhoods with the city's museum involved… by next year we would have successfully saved art programs and helped start art scholarships for high school graduates. We already got New York and Jersey involved…"

"And California," Simon reminded, "those Hollywood-hotheads settled the deal last weekend. I think they care more about the publicity than actually saving their art programs."

"It's not like that," Amy fought back, "because of Arts for All the Compton area has already saved their arts and music program from being removed. We have a couple of partial scholarships set up already. If we can just get more museums to agree to the program-"

"We can save the world," Simon mocked in a deep voice. His laughter annoyed Amy. Simon rested his hand on Amy's knee and said, "I'm kidding babe. You know that. I'm more about the business of the art world. You represent the business yet you're still an artist at heart."

"You're making fun of me."

"I'm merely pointing out that you're an artist at heart… but you're still a business woman. Think realistically." Simon sat back in his seat. "Don't forget you have a business to run. Besides Arts for All you still have arrangements with the British Museum to follow through with and you need to get your ass to Egypt and get us some of those tasty little artifacts."

"I've only been with the company for a year, barely," Amy reminded slowly. "I don't think they're ready to just set me off for the traveling. They're gonna hand the job over to Roderick and I'm left collecting the data and forms and contracts and-"

Simon shook his head and laughed. He reached over to hold Amy's hands in his. "Amy-Baby," he called her by the obnoxious nickname Amy disliked, "relax… my dad loves you. And he loves the work you've been doing just as much. You're going to do well in front of the board this week and Arts for All will be a hit. I know it. I've never met a girl who was so OCD about getting things accomplished." He reached up to stroke her cheek. "Aurora-Ansell is glad to have you part of its company."

Amy nodded and began to take slow, deep breaths. "I'm just ready for all of this to be done with."

Her twenty-nine-year-old beau grinned and reassured, "Everything is going to go well. You do everything well. Now go finish getting ready for work – I'll clean up here and I have to head back and get ready for the day myself."

"I'll be working late and heading to the gym later-"

Simon: "Soo no dinner tonight then?"

Amy reached over and rubbed Simon's forearm. "I have a feeling this week is going to get complicated. I just need my own space for the time being."

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The building for Aurora-Ansell was sixty-floors tall and was known by some as the "Empire State Building of Chicago."

On the twenty-eighth floor Amy exited the elevator as she waved goodbye to her other colleagues.

Attired in black slacks, white blouse, and a light pink blazer, Amy walked the hall ready for the day. Her hair was pulled back with a few curly strands dangling by her cheeks. She began to tug at the white pearls around her neck (last year's birthday gift from Simon).

As Amy walked down the light blue hall a smaller woman, Lydia, appeared beside her quickly. The secretary was wearing a similar outfit however she wore a long black shirt and a red blazer.

Lydia carried a black leather organizer at her side and handed Amy her regular hazelnut coffee.

"'Morning boss," Lydia greeted, "I just wanted to let you know that the representatives from L.A. will be in at the end of the week to sign off some final papers with you. You're still on schedule to visit the museum on Wednesday to overview the final makeover details and Egypt faxed over a few photos of the mummy exhibit they wish to share with us."

"Did Beijing sign off the contract too?" Amy asked as the two turned the corner and into Amy's office.

Amy walked around her black desk and sat down at the large matching chair.

Lydia sat across from Amy and continued: "Beijing is clear for take-off. They're getting Hong Kong involved too. Oh yes…" The small brunette's voice turned timid. "The meeting you have with the board tomorrow…"

The dark brown eyes of Lydia's superior looked up.

"They've moved it to next week-"

"What!" Amy gasped. "I've been preparing for this for weeks! This was my time to review all the data and necessary information and get these guys fully involved-"

"Mr. Ansell called me earlier this morning," Lydia jumped in, "he apologized for the change but says he'd like to see you at nine to discuss a few things."

"How long do I have?"

"To see Ansell? About an hour-"

Amy rose from her desk. She straightened out her blazer and made her way to the door.

"Curator or not I'm going to talk to him right now," Amy threatened. Lydia squirmed from her chair and followed Amy down the hall.

When Amy came to the elevator Lydia reminded calmly, "Now Amy… he isn't just the curator he's the CEO… now be careful."

Amy smiled at her secretary as she entered the empty elevator. She pressed the top button and Amy playfully waved at Lydia.

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Hal Ansell was a sixty-one-year-old man who was both the CEO of Aurora-Ansell and the curator of Edison's museum. Mr. Ansell was also Simon's father.

The silver-haired man sat quietly in his office as he typed away at his laptop.

His door opened suddenly and Amy stepped through.

A smile crossed the old man's face and he nodded for her to come forward.

"I knew I would expect you early, Ms. Jensen," Mr. Ansell said. He motioned for Amy to sit but the woman did not take his offer.

Her hands were placed firmly on her hips. "Sir why was I notified that the board meeting is pushed to next week?"

"Because several of the board members are still abroad and settling other deals," Ansell said gently, "please, Amy sit… there is something that I would like to discuss with you."

Amy pursed her lips and sat down.

Ansell folded his hands together and leaned back in his leather chair. "I believe this program will be very successful. So successful that within five years we can have nationwide scholarships set up. The business of museums isn't doing as well these days but luckily people still have a taste for the arts." He leaned forward and rested his hands on his desk. "Amy, my dear, the meeting is pushed to next week because the board has already agreed to support Arts for All one hundred percent."

Her face was either pure white or bright red – Amy couldn't tell. For a moment she felt her heart stop and wasn't sure if she was breathing correctly.

"Arts for All is set in motion," Ansell announced. "Starting next month our top administrators will be announcing to several cities across the nation that we will be providing partial and full scholarships for young people interested in careers in art, music, and even business."

Amy's hand flew to her chest. She was trying to see if her heart was beating…

Ansell released a loud, hearty laugh. "Amy! Congratulations! Because of you we got the full backup we needed to press this forward. Big things are happening for many people around the world and it's because of you. Congratulations."

"Oh sir…" Amy finally spat out, "thank you… thank you so much."

"Thank you Amy," Ansell said gently. "I know that you hate surprises so I'm already informing you that before the official announcement is made next month we will be throwing a celebration in your honor – and in the honor of Arts for All."

Oh…my…god…I could totally cry right now…

"Amy there is something very important, however, that we must discuss," Ansell said seriously. His change in tone forced Amy to focus. "The board is concerned, however, that this successful plan was your doing – an Art Administrator that's been with us for just a year… I've told them that you've been here longer, as an intern, but they're doubtful if we should trust someone with such limited experience with our major deals. The British Museum, for one thing…"

"Oh sir-"

"But there is a way to settle this," Ansell smiled. "We're still trying to get another museum's involvement. The area is not ideal to the board to have involved… but I feel it will be necessary to gain just one more partner in all of this…and if we were to successfully gain the support and mergence of this museum… Arts for All will truly be a successful program." He narrowed his eyes at Amy. "This would be your first field experience – you would be required to travel, impress, and seal the deal yourself. Think you could handle it?"

Amy nodded. She understood how the business worked and did not wish to argue. "What's the location?"

Ansell sighed and smiled. "Boston."

The pale look must have returned for Ansell suddenly looked concerned.

"Something wrong dear?"

"I thought… I thought we had already cleared the program with Boston University's museum-"

"Yes, we did successfully gain the partnership of the museum but we want the mergence with Thompson & Falcon. T&F is a very powerful, successful corporation that actually helps with scholarships across Massachusetts. They're located in South Boston – where you, surprisingly, are from."

"I never mentioned that?" Amy asked.

Ansell shook his head. "I knew you were from Massachusetts but I always assumed the Cambridge area or somewhere. Simon informed me the other evening during dinner that you actually grew up in South Boston."

Amy nodded. "Yes. I was raised there."

"Fantastic," Ansell clapped his hands together. "T&F are having a tough time deciding if this mergence is a smart deal. Of course it is. But I believe they are feeling intimidated. They don't want to lose their name and they don't want to suffer any bad publicity from it. South Boston, according to my colleagues, is a lost city. Useless. But I feel that it's a city that needs a lot of help and restructuring. If South Boston can get Arts for All as a resource we can get the area to improve in its other needs such as build up the employment rate and get people off the streets."

Ansell was a good man. Like his wife Madeline Aurora, who died many years ago, Ansell was more than just a business man; he was a philanthropist and the basic good-guy. He was a superhero without a cape. Amy admired the man as he spoke. She wondered how Simon had not taken these similar qualities…

"When Simon told me you were from South Boston, I thought to myself 'How perfect!' Amy… you're the best representative we have that can convince South Boston to merge and we then we can show the entire nation – maybe some day the whole globe – that it can take just a community to improve itself and with one community's help we can help others."

Ansell rose from his seat and approached Amy. She stood up as well and held her hands out as Ansell reached for her. The old man held her hands in his and gave her a tight squeeze.

"The board has agreed that if you get South Boston to merge… you will be the one leading the trip to the British Museum, Egypt… and soon to the Louvre in Paris," Ansell said softly.

Amy took a deep breath smiled the best she could.

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Amy and Lydia were walking speedily down the hall.

Amy: "Call Los Angeles and inform them that I will unfortunately be unavailable to clear the contracts with them. They'll have Roderick to be their administrator. Tell the museum I will be by this afternoon to overlook the details for the renovations – make sure they know that I have the final say unless they want to get in contact with Ansell. Send Egypt a thank you letter and send them a call instilling our gratitude."

They stepped inside Amy's office. Amy skipped to her desk and quickly logged on to her computer. Lydia was quickly jotting the details down in her organizer as well as typing things into her Blackberry.

"We'll leave for Boston tomorrow night," Amy continued with her orders, "Lydia you're coming with me. Make arrangements at the Palmetto – it's a great four-star hotel-"

"The company is taking care of all of this, wouldn't you prefer to be closer to T&F by staying at the Copley Plaza-"

"No," Amy said quickly, catching Lydia off-guard. Amy breathed in slowly and said, "The Palm will be fine. Two separate suites for us. Please send a car to pick us up tomorrow. Call me when you have the exact details of our flight."

"I'll call the airport now," Lydia nodded. She turned around and made her way out of Amy's office. The small woman turned around and asked, "I have a feeling that you're not really excited about this trip."

Amy looked up blankly. "It's South Boston. It's exciting enough on its own."

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Author's Note: will try and update as soon as possible! Reviews appreciated.