Until Then (Cape Harbor #2) - Heidi McLaughlin Page 0,5

first time. When she first walked in, she thought her boss was playing a cruel joke on her, possibly showing her what she could have if she were ever to make partner, because there was no way the corner office with a view of the city was hers. He paraded her around the room, showing her the wet bar, the kitchenette with a refrigerator hidden behind the mahogany cabinet and under the black granite countertop. There was a large bathroom that had a black-and-teal-tiled stand-up shower, complete with dual showerheads and the option to switch to the overhead rain shower just in case the Seattle drizzle wasn’t enough for her. The bathroom looked like something her best friend, Brooklyn Hewett, had designed. Attached to the bathroom were a dressing room and a space for her to keep extra clothes and shoes. Her boss referred to it as small, but the closet was bigger than her one-bedroom walk-up. The more she looked around, the more she surmised this office wasn’t for her. He was dangling a prize in front of her, something for her to work toward. To continue the tour, he told her that the couch pulled out into a sleeper in case she needed to stay the night. In that moment, she wanted it. She wanted it all. She could easily see herself spending countless hours in her office, watching the sun set over the sound. She could see her future, sitting at the large desk stained a rich dark brown that almost looked black, curled up on the leather couch under the afghan her grandmother knitted for her in case of a snowstorm. Her future was in this room, and it was within her grasp.

Rennie hadn’t believed this was her office, not even when her boss placed the keys in her hand. It wasn’t until maintenance installed the gold-plated nameplate outside the door, etched with her name, that it finally sank in. She stayed late the night it went up, well after everyone had gone home and only the glow from the auto-timed night-lights illuminated the pathways to the exits, to drag her fingers across the hollowed letters of her name, Renee Wallace. She traced each one until the pad of her index finger was sore. Years of hard work and determination came down to this moment. She had finally been recognized for her worth.

Those feelings lasted about five minutes. It wasn’t long after she moved into her new office that her coworkers started mumbling under their breath. According to gossip, the only reason for her promotion was because she had devoted herself to the job. She didn’t have kids or a spouse, nothing forcing her to leave at five or six o’clock to rush home. Day cares and schools didn’t phone needing her attention. The midnight flu didn’t force her to call in sick the next day to care for her child. The doctor’s appointments, early dismissals, snow days, or field trips taking time away from other staff wouldn’t affect her. To everyone around her, she got the promotion because she was alone, not because she’d earned it.

Years ago, when she was young and hungry for success, right after passing the bar, she made many comments about how motherhood wasn’t her thing to whoever asked when she would settle down. Rennie never saw herself with a husband and 2.3 children. The white picket fence wasn’t her lifestyle. She wanted a high-rise in the city, the weekend gala fundraisers, and the one-night stands that weren’t awkward because both parties knew exactly what they needed from each other. Her passion for sitting in her oversize chair with a cup of coffee and a good book far outweighed any thoughts of dirty diapers and teething rings.

What she wanted now was a ring on her finger. She could still do without a child, but marriage was something she found she wanted ever since she met her boyfriend at a college fair in Spokane, Washington, over a year ago. Rennie was asked to fill in for a coworker and attend the recruiting session and speak to interested interns. Public speaking wasn’t her forte, but the thought of getting out of the office for a few days excited her. She never thought a trip across the state would be life changing, but this one was. The staff who had accompanied her to Spokane set up their booth in the convention center and joked with her about how nervous she was. They assured her