The plane touched down at eight in the morning. I spotted Kate from a distance, pacing nervously in place. When she saw me, her face darkened for a moment before she forced a smile and hurried over.
“Alice, have you looked in a mirror lately?” she said, skipping any cheerful greeting.
“I know how I look. You were so eager to see me that you can’t even say hi?”
“Hey,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Wish I could say the same about you. What’s with that awful bun on your head? I get that you’re going through a rough patch, but this look is just unhealthy. Have you been eating at all?”
“I’ve eaten. I think.”
“Well, don’t worry, girl. I’m gonna get you back on your feet and won’t let you fall apart again,” she said, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the exit. It’s a good thing I’m here; this whirlwind of a woman won’t let me crumble.
“So, we’re gonna grab a quick bite, then I’ll take you home. You’re staying with us,” Kate declared confidently. “My parents are always traveling for their conferences, so I’m often alone. You’ll keep me from getting bored.”
“Well, I wouldn’t count on that. I’m not exactly great company right now. And it’s not really convenient. I’d rather rent a room somewhere.”
“Yeah, sure, with some grumpy old lady on the outskirts of town.”
“I don’t want to live on the outskirts.”
“Exactly. So it’s settled. How about pancakes and coffee?”
After a quick meal at a small diner, Kate brought me to her place. It’s a spacious apartment in white and gray tones, with a bright kitchen and darker rooms. A bit gloomy for my taste, but to each their own. Black-and-white paintings hang on the walls, and the balcony offers an incredible view of the highway. I bet it’s stunning at night. She gave me a room near the kitchen—small, but cozy. It suited me just fine.
“Alice, I’ve got work today. I’ll be back around seven. We’ll talk everything over then and figure out the next steps. For now, just rest.”
“I need to start looking for a job.”
“We’ll talk about work too. See you tonight,” she said, kissing me on the cheek before rushing off.
I wandered aimlessly around the apartment for a while, then lay down to rest and accidentally fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, it was pitch dark. Wow, I really overdid it with the nap. I slept through the whole day. Must be the jet lag. I’ve never wasted so much time before. I was always on the move. At work, it was constant site visits, sketches, blueprints, and budgets. At home, there were endless chores. I’d go to bed late, wake up early, and repeat the cycle. Even after quitting my job, I kept busy preparing for the move—gathering documents and handling paperwork took up a lot of time. But today, I spent an entire day doing nothing. Still, Kate’s right. I need to recharge. Ahead of me lies the tough task of finding a job and adapting to the American pace of life.
To keep myself occupied, I dragged my suitcases over and unpacked. Since it’s early spring, I brought mostly spring and summer clothes. I didn’t plan too far ahead. Mainly office suits and dresses, a few work overalls, a couple of jeans, T-shirts, a light jacket, loungewear, half a suitcase of shoes, and a bit of makeup.
After a shower, I changed into a comfy house dress. Kate’s right—my appearance leaves a lot to be desired. Dark circles under my eyes, my thick blonde hair turned into what she called an “awful bun,” and my once-bright blue eyes now look dull. I’ve lost weight too. I never followed diets, but every time I looked in the mirror, I wished I could shed a few pounds. Well, I did, just not in a way that makes me happy. My height—five foot seven—always felt ideal to me, but now everything feels off. I’m completely disappointed with how I look. Seems I’ve got issues with self-love too.
When Kate got back, I was rummaging through the fridge, looking for something to make for dinner.
“Alice, I brought pizza!” she shouted from the doorway.
“All you’ve got in the fridge are a few yogurts.”
“Yeah, when Mom’s home, she might cook something, but mostly we order takeout. No one wants to be stuck in the kitchen after a long workday.”
“Why’d you buy so much?” I asked, walking over to take the boxes from her.
“I’m starving, and you need to eat too,” she said, grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses before heading to the living room.
We plopped down on a fluffy rug in front of the coffee table. We ate pizza, sipped wine, and chatted about everything. Mostly, Kate talked about her life in New York—her hobbies, vacations, cracking jokes to make me laugh, and not asking me a single thing about my situation. It’s been a long time since I felt this good. It reminded me of our hangouts in my kitchen back in the day, munching on candy, flipping through fashion magazines, and gossiping about boys. Life was so simple then; we were such carefree kids.
“Kate, I need to start looking for a job. I can’t sit around doing nothing for long.”
“Of course you do, and I’ve already got it figured out. I know someone who works as an economist at this company. They’ve got an open designer position, and interviews start Monday. That’s where you’re gonna work. It’s the best architecture firm in the States.”
“And who’s gonna hire me?”
“They’ll see your portfolio and won’t be able to resist. You were born for this profession. I saw the way you were sizing up our apartment with that professional eye of yours. I’m not thrilled with the color scheme Mom picked either, but you know, I’m not staying here forever. Once I get married, I’ll design my husband’s place exactly how I want it.”
“You’re getting married?” I asked, realizing what a self-absorbed jerk I’ve been for not even asking about her personal life.
“Of course I am, as soon as I find a decent guy. I haven’t changed my dream. As long as he’s a good person, I don’t care if he’s trading oil or gold.”
“You’re hopeless,” I laughed at the expression on her face.
Ever since we were kids, Katherine Volkova swore she’d marry a billionaire, live in a huge house on some tropical island, and enjoy the good life.
“What, you thought I’d settle? I don’t see the point in marrying some average manager or security guard who’s sat in the same chair his whole life with no prospects. It’s a tough goal, but totally doable. You just gotta believe in yourself. Plus, it’s time to ditch my current job. My department head got married. The nerve. There’s nothing left for me there. You should see the hag who snagged him—disgusting,” she said, her face souring.
“How awful,” I said, clutching my head in mock horror. “How dare he?”
“Exactly. I’ll find another place with a hot, single boss. Or maybe you’ll get hired and pull me in with you? You know who owns that company? Sure, you won’t bump into him in the hallways, but it’s worth a shot. Though, Ellie did say he’s got a tough personality. Well, I’m no walk in the park either. You should see him,” she said, rolling her eyes dreamily. “One look from him, and your knees go weak.”
“Where’d you see him?”
“In a photo. Never in person.”
“And a photo makes your knees weak? Were you drunk or something?” I smirked, eyeing the emotions playing across her face skeptically.
“Oh, don’t be a buzzkill. I’m telling you, he’s gorgeous, so that’s that. I’ll show you right now,” Kate said, bolting to her bedroom.
I finished my wine and stacked the pizza boxes. Tomorrow, I’ll cook something proper. I’ll hit up a supermarket and check out the neighborhood while I’m at it.
“Look at this,” Kate said, dragging her laptop over.
“Alan Davis Architecture Firm,” the headline read. Impressive work—the website was top-notch. It showcased their specialties, styles, architects, designers, and even let you pick a professional without leaving your house. You could choose a style and specialist right there. The site had everything about the company—its founding, history, employee achievements, photos and videos of completed projects, plus contact numbers for a hotline and HR department.
“Wow, this is amazing,” I said, genuinely impressed.
“You’re looking at the wrong thing,” she said, peering at the screen and clicking on the “Founders” link.
Only one photo popped up, just one man. Incredible—he built this massive empire all on his own.
“Just look at how gorgeous he is,” Kate insisted.
“Yeah, I see,” I said. The guy in the photo was undeniably handsome; I’m not blind. Just because I’m not interested in relationships doesn’t mean I can’t see what’s obvious. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes staring sternly into the camera, a straight nose, nice lips. Dressed expensively and stylishly, with a hefty watch on his wrist. Everything about his appearance screamed strength and character. “Alan Davis,” the caption read. Founder and sole owner of the company.
“I respect people who’ve achieved so much. How old is he?”
“Thirty-five. Single, never been spotted in a long-term relationship, works a ton, into extreme sports, and his parents live in Seattle.”
“What?” I shot her a suspicious look. “Where’d you get all this info?” I asked, and Kate burst out laughing.