It was the day Clare had been dreading the most. By definition, Mondays were always the worst day of the week but given the fact that she had gone the whole weekend without a single call or text from Jake, she knew work would be an uphill battle. It would be bittersweet to see him- that much she was certain of. More than anything she wanted answers to the questions that had been weighing heavily on her mind since he walked out the door. She wasn't even sure how to approach him, how to go about calling him out for what he had done but an effort had to be made. It was evident to Clare that he was more or less content with the silence that had fallen between them. But Clare on the other hand wasn't willing to let this go, not after all their history together.
In her eyes it would be absurd to simply accept his weak response of things not working out now without so much as an explanation and reason as to why. Her persistent nature would have to come into play today if he showed up to work. At this point Clare wouldn't have put it past him if he decided to call in sick or come up with some other excuse to pardon himself from having to see her. In all honesty, Clare was nervous of how this first talk post-breakup would go but after her girls' weekend with Alli, she felt more at ease.
"If he doesn't want to be with you, then it's seriously his loss. You're an amazing girl, Clarebear," Alli assured her as they sat around her living room the day before giving each other manis and pedis.
Normally Clare could do without such girly grooming but having a day of being pampered and unwinding was a far better alternative than being a nervous wreck over how her talk with Jake would go. There was no way of truly knowing ahead of time what to expect and for a worry wart like Clare, it was unsettling.
"I know it's hard but don't stress it too much. If he's willing to let a good catch go then clearly he's an idiot and doesn't deserve any more of your time."
Clare knew that Alli was right. She was a good person and had devoted a lot of effort into her relationship with Jake for close to three years. It hurt most to see that it was essentially amounting to nothing in the end now and moreover for reasons unknown. Until she got the closure she needed, Clare was positive she wouldn't be able to move on.
And even if she did close the chapter on this part of her life, would she even have the strength or courage to put herself out there? Jake was supposed to be a sure deal as far as she was concerned but apparently he wasn't of the same mind. Clare tried her best to wrap her mind around what she could have done to make him leave but maybe it wasn't her that was problem.
Her mind was far too jumbled for the start of the day, Clare grumbling as she sat at the island in her empty apartment. Normally Jake would be seated right beside her and the two would talk over their morning breakfast but she was all by herself now and the silence of the space pressed uncomfortably against her ear. Deciding she could take it any longer, Clare dumped her half eaten bowl of oatmeal into the sink and filled her thermos with coffee fresh from the pot before leaving in a huff.
The commute was spent stuck in her reverie, conjuring up possible scenarios with Jake. She knew she was driving herself crazy with thoughts but she couldn't help it. It would have been impossible not to seeing how important this was. But luckily, or maybe not so fortunately, she arrived at work. Entering the building, Clare tapped her index finger impatiently as she waited for the elevator, sighing in relief once the lift reached the lobby. Smiling politely, she traded pleasantries with people before stepping inside.
Once the doors let out to her floor, Clare felt more at ease being in her element. The Edge had the type of energy that truly didn't know any bounds. It was only nine in the morning and already phones were ringing and people were milling about as they worked on articles or whatever project they had been assigned. It was far more exciting than any newspaper could ever hope to be and although it wasn't her original plan in career, Clare couldn't say she regretted the changeover.
"Morning, Clare!" she heard someone say, Clare then turning and spotting her co-worker Katie.
"Hey, Katie. How are you? Did you enjoy your weekend?" she asked conversationally as they walked over to their neighboring cubicles.
"Eh, same old same old, nothing too special," Katie said nonchalantly, setting down two folders she had been carrying onto her immaculately clean desk. "What about you? I bet your weekend was far more exciting than mine."
Clare fought the urge to wince at this, knowing it would lead to questions so she opted for the easier out and edit the last few days. "It was pretty good. I got to hang out with my best friend and have a girls' weekend," she replied, ridding herself of her purse and lowering her body into her comfy swivel chair.
"I'm glad you guys had fun. Work and life can be so hectic. It's hard sometimes to catch up with even the most important people to you."
To this Clare nodded, her head and smiled. "Too true," she said noncommittally as she turned on her computer.
"Oh, we're having a staff meeting soon. Janis sent the email out at such a random time this morning but you know me, neurotic to the bone as always," she laughed at her own expense. "Anyway, it should be in ten minutes."
"Katie, you're a godsend, seriously," Clare remarked, shaking her head at how she'd let something like that slip her knowledge. Taking a sip of her coffee, she went online and checked her email, sure enough seeing the mass message in her inbox. Clicking on it, she saw it would be a quick briefing which she was grateful for, knowing full well her attention span wouldn't be able to endure a full blown meeting.
Drinking the rest of her coffee, Clare set the stainless steel cup down and returned her focus to the Mac before her for another few minutes until Katie stood up. Checking the time in upper right hand corner of the screen, Clare saw it was time to get a move on things. Walking with Katie, the two made it into the conference room, seeing their co-workers filing in as well.
It wasn't until Clare took a seat at the large table that her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. There he was in all his splendor, his blue eyes trained on a legal pad he had with him. He was sitting on the other side, a few chairs away. He didn't notice she had arrived and Clare took advantage of that grace period to collect herself. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she did her best to look indifferent but every now and then, her eyes would wander over to him subconsciously.
Once everyone was accounted for, the editor in chief stood before the room, calling them to attention. The low hum of chatter came to a halt, everyone looking to her as she spoke.
"Good morning, everyone. I trust you all had a great weekend and are ready to get right back into the swing of things. I don't plan on keeping you all here long because quite frankly, I think we all hate meetings," she said teasingly, earning a few laughs. "I just need updates from my A&E writers on the local dives readers might enjoy, movie reviews as well as music so please have those accordingly. All interviews should be scheduled and booked no later than this week if you plan on making your articles to print for next month's issue. Sports, you guys are good. I just saw your revised notes, Scott," she said, speaking to the chief editor of sports. "We have these meetings every month, you all know the drill but it's mandatory that I do these things. If you have any issues, please speak to the head of your department or to me personally. My door is always open and I'd much rather fix a problem from the start before it ends up a disaster. Are there any questions?"
Looking around at her co-workers, Clare didn't see anyone showing signs of having an inquiry, soon turning her head forwards. Her eyes drifted to Jake, seeing him looking at her before he quickly shifted focus but it was too late. For that one second their eyes met, Clare could feel her stomach lurch. Her thoughts ran away from her so much that she hadn't even noticed the meeting had adjourned. Biting back on her lower lip as her counterparts disassembled, Clare knew this small window would be her only chance to speak with him. He didn't hesitate in moving for the door, Clare acting fast to follow after.
"Jake," she called once they were back out into the hall, his figure a few paces ahead. She wasn't sure if he would stop or blatantly ignore her, the latter seeming like the more probable option for him.
"Jake, wait up. Please," she said as she caught up with him. Standing before him now was almost intimidating but Clare refused to lose her nerve. "We need to talk. Come with me," she instructed, leading the way into the printing room and stepping inside.
She was glad he had actually complied thus far but she didn't want to get her hopes up too much. If there was one thing she knew about Jake Martin was that he did his best to avoid any and all conflict. She could hear the hustle and bustle going on outside but it wasn't enough to dissuade her.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Jake was certain to leave a wide enough berth between him and Clare. "I really don't think this is the time or place to discuss this, Clare," he said quietly, as if speaking in a higher decibel would disrupt the already tense atmosphere between them.
"Then tell me when, Jake. Because it certainly wasn't when you left and the two days after that clearly weren't good enough for you either," she said acidly. Clicking her tongue to the roof of her mouth, she tried again. "I don't want to fight but you have to admit that you at least owe me an answer, Jake. People don't just pick up and go without having a reason. The least you could do is explain to me what's going on," she all but demanded, her small hands furling into fists at her sides.
She was doing a poor job of not getting upset but his flagrant disregard was frustrating her to no end. How could he look her in the eye now and still not see that he was at fault? That he didn't feel a need to clue her in to what he had been thinking? It was irritating beyond comprehension and he didn't have the slightest care or concern.
Sighing heavily, he dropped his hand from his neck, looking over at nothing in particular uncomfortably. But Clare wasn't letting up on her relentless stare down, determined to make him crack somehow. "I don't know what you want me to say. Look, we're at work, okay? Now's not the time to hash things out. Let's keep it professional," he had the gall to say, Clare's eyes widening.
"Unbelievable. You break up with me out of nowhere and then have the audacity to say something like that to me? I want you to be straight up and honest. Or would it kill you to speak the truth?" she quipped, crossing her arms over her chest.
Before she could continue with her tirade, the door opened and Clare recognized the face of one of the photographers popping in the door jamb before opening it fully. "Hey, Martin. We need your help now. Oh…sorry, was I interrupting something? It can wait a few minutes," Brad quickly amended.
"No, no. You weren't interrupting anything at all. We were done here anyway," Jake said quickly, all too relieved to have this easy copout. Moving to the door, Jake left Clare to herself without another word.
She stood there stunned, in complete disgust and awe at how Jake was going about this breakup. She hardly thought she was asking for much in wanting a clear answer and yet he seemed to find it difficult to open up his mouth and be straightforward. At this rate she wasn't sure if she'd ever get the explanation she was looking for but she would be damned if she didn't try.
Drumming his fingers steadily against his armrest, Eli watched the performers on stage, his brows furrowing in concentration. It didn't matter how many plays he had written, produced or directed, he was always meticulous when it came to each and every one. No detail was too small to be overlooked and the things that Eli was certain would catch the audiences' eye were gone over with a fine tooth comb. Perhaps it was safe to say he was obsessed with his craft but Eli merely chalked it up to being dedicated and committed. After all, it would be his name that was attached to everything and the last thing Eli wanted to do was begin setting up a bad reputation for himself among the arts community.
He was the one to watch, essentially. He was an up and comer who was making a name for himself with such speed it was overwhelming to him but Eli rose to the occasion and thrived in the limelight. Ever since he could remember, writing was crucial to him. So many days were spent to himself as a kid hovering over a notebook and jotting down his thoughts. Words just seemed to find him naturally and Eli stuck with it. He knew he had a gift and his passion wasn't something that would ever diminish or fade over time. Instead it grew with him. The older Eli became, the more prominent is love for writing was. He extended far beyond musings in a journal and now created a substantial career for himself, most noticeably in theatre.
He continued to watch the first act unfold, the two leads bringing his vision to life. It was amazing to him to watch it live, to see the progression of things step by step. From the foundation that was the script to the end result of an actual play, Eli was always in awe of it.
"Can I get a spotlight on our male lead after the break?" he called as the scene continued, Eli looking up in the rafters at the technicians who marked his cue, following the orders he had given. "Perfect."
His vision was vivid and nothing less than what he had in mind would do. He was looking forward to this play to debut soon. They were only a few weeks away from opening night but Eli was confident it would be a hit. Already there seemed to be a good buzz about it. It was a romantic play derived from his personal struggles in the love department. In the play, the male finds himself in a superficial relationship he doesn't see lacks true depth. He's so drawn and overcome by his emotions, what he deems to be love that he doesn't realize how much of himself he's losing in the process. It was cathartic, just as it always was, for Eli to write. Whether it was a poem, a short story or a play, he sought refuge each time he set a pen to paper and wrote. He freed himself of his emotions as best he could but the void still remained within him. He knew Adam could see it, his friend on several different occasions over the years expressing his concern. But after having his heart broken with two relationships he thought would truly stand the test of time, he had changed.
Now he was closed off and devoted all his time to his craft. His days and nights were spent there in the theatre. It was a place for him to not only work but to think and feel at peace. When the outside world got to be too much, all he would have to do was head down and sit within his idea of a sanctuary. His partner in life was writing and that was the only deep rooted love he needed. While women could leave him high and dry, words never failed him. Relationships seemed more like a hassle than anything else but if he were being honest, it was the fear of being letdown again that kept him at bay.
It was a defense mechanism that didn't leave room to be hurt like he was in the past and Eli was more than accepting of it, welcoming it all with arms wide open.
He continued to oversee the play as the next scene came up, pleased with the lighting this time as it set the tone perfectly for the act. The props department had done an outstanding job as always, helping to really give the full effect of the play's setting. He couldn't be happier, engrossed now as if he were an audience member rather than the director. He was so immersed in the onstage action that he didn't hear his producer approach.
"Earth to Eli," Fiona teased, waving a hand in front her face as she took a seat beside him.
"Fiona, hi," he said, his tone startled. "Sorry about that. You know I how I get when I'm in director mode." Laughing he shook his head at himself before speaking again. "How are you? What's up?"
"You zone out until the curtain closes and even after that you're still in a daze. Anyway, I'm pretty good but I think you're going to be a lot better," she said knowingly, playfully bumping shoulders with him.
"I can't help myself. I guess this is what most guys feel when a game is on TV but not me. This is the real attraction. I'm glad you're doing so well but I'm not exactly sure I follow. What's going on?"
Rolling her eyes, she scoffed. "Sports are gross anyway. All that sweat and running around? No thank you." Shuddering, her face scrunched up in disgust for a moment before continuing. "A little birdie dropped something off for you in the mail but I wanted to be the one to personally deliver it to you. I'm not sure what it is exactly but it has to be très fab," she assured, nodding her head enthusiastically and smiling.
"Anything that requires you to break a sweat gets a definite 'no' from you, unless it's spending hours shopping which is another thing I could do without," he countered. "Oh? Consider my curiosity piqued, Miss Coyne. Do tell. I'm literally on the edge of my seat," he mused, moving forward in his red cushioned seat until he was near the end.
"I'd smack you if that weren't true," she said, pointing a French-tipped finger at him. "But on to the good stuff. Here you go." Presenting a white envelope to him, Eli took it from her tentatively. "Oh god, Eli! It's not going to bite. Chop, chop! I want to see what it says. Hurry up and open it."
"You're like a kid on Christmas, I swear. Besides, it's my letter. I'll take all the time I want," he quipped, Fiona giving him a less than pleased expression. Rolling his eyes at her, he turned over the envelope, seeing a logo etched into the corner.
"It's from The Edge! Only the best magazine in this whole city so if they're writing to you, it must be good news," she chirped, her excitement palpable but Eli remained still, the name of this particular publication setting off alarms in his head. "Oh, give it here! You're taking too long," Fiona complained, snatching back the envelope and slipping her finger under the fold, taking out the letter and reading aloud.
"'Dear, Mr. Goldsworthy. It's come to our attention that you will be directing the upcoming play at the Tarragon Theatre…"
Eli had tuned her out at this point, his mind running back over the weekend he'd had. He thought of the girl at the bar, Clare Edwards, it would soon come to light thanks to Adam's knowledge of this magazine he'd never heard of if he were being honest. He thought he would never see her again but now his play was being scouted out by the magazine she worked for. It was surreal but before he could put another thought to it, Fiona was bouncing up and down in her seat.
"This is a huge break, Eli! The whole city reads this magazine and if you're featured in it? Ticket sales are going to go through the roof. I'm so proud of you, seriously. You're the best young director out there. I can't think of anyone more deserving of this than you," she said sincerely, throwing her arms around him for a tight hug.
Returning the embrace for a moment, Eli pulled away and took the letter from her, skimming it over. Sure enough they were interested in covering the play and doing a follow up as well once the play had debuted. It was far more than what a budding director could hope for and yet it was truly happening to him. At a loss for words just then, he shook his head and sighed as he looked over the letter once more.
"Oh man. I don't even know what to say or do right now," he said, his tone one of sheer disbelief.
"I'll tell you what to do. You call them back and confirm this ASAP before they pass- which would be so stupid but that's how things work. Anyway, make the call today and let them know you're definitely in and they'll go over times to meet and everything. This is so exciting! All your hard work is paying off."
"And yours as well. Let's not forget who's producing this whole thing. I want you to be a part of the interview too. I couldn't have done this all on my own," he said earnestly, a warm smile on his lips.
"You're too sweet for your own good. Too bad you aren't a girl. I would totally date you." Giving him a kiss on the cheek, she rose from her seat. "I have to go speak with the sound guys but next time I see you, you'd better have gotten in touch with The Edge or else there will be hell to pay, Mr. Goldsworthy," she warned though she wasn't able to keep herself from smiling. "Ta ta!" she said with a wiggle of her fingertips before heading off.
Eli sat back in his seat, looking to the letter again. It would be his luck that he'd get linked to Clare's magazine somehow. It wasn't necessarily a problem to him but the coincidence was so large, Eli wasn't sure what to make of it. He could only imagine what Adam's reaction would be when he told him. He had been dropping not so subtle hints all weekend about Eli getting in touch with Clare but he failed to see the point. He was nothing more than a random guy at the bar and he doubted she would even remember him with all she had to drink. None of it really mattered in the great scheme of thing. It was a bizarre turn of events and nothing more. But even with that in mind, Eli couldn't explain to himself why he was so intrigued by this new prospect.