Today, I paired them with a simple black turtleneck that would be considered plain if not for the small fabric ruffles at the caps of the sleeves. I return my focus to my reflection. My light blonde hair is straightened, that feat alone made it clear today was special. My hair hangs a few inches past my shoulder and is accented by blunt bangs that hang over my forehead. Today they actually looked good after the first blow dry, like they knew to behave for this occasion. 

Yes, today all of my hard work would pay off. I’m the creative manager for a record label in Nashville. Based on the size of the roster, they would be technically classified as a smaller label, but the level of their talent made them the top label in country music. The one artists only dreamed of being signed to. I liked to think I have played a solid role in the label’s success. I started there as an intern my senior year of college and worked my way up and now lead a team. I love my job. 

See, at our label, the Creative team handles every single thing that could be seen as branding. It blends marketing and design. I manage a team of marketers, designers, and interns and together, we create country superstars. Yes, our artists themselves are incredibly talented, they wouldn’t have been signed if they didn’t have talent. But it was the creative team that made them a star. Growing and equipping massive fandoms that guaranteed #1 albums and sold out tours. Styling looks that would be covered by top fashion magazines. Concepting music videos and tours that have been deemed “iconic”. Yes, that was all of our hard work. And that’s why when my job started to become my entire life and personality, I let it. 

And today was the day all of that would finally be recognized. A few days ago, my boss called me into his office to let me know that he was leaving the business. He was one of the founders of the label and dedicated most of his life making it what it was. He was the one who saw potential in me seven years ago and offered me a full time position. Since then, he has become my mentor and promoted me to second in charge. But with his devotion to work, he had missed out on a lot of family time, just like I have. With his kids leaving for college soon, he decided it to retire early and make up for all of the years he missed. I was shocked when he told me the news, but it was also followed by an all but promised promotion. 

“Emma, we all know that you’ve really been the one running the show the past couple of years. So it would seem there’s a clear choice for who the other execs decide to promote to this role. Just keep doing your thing and try to act surprised,” Brian had told me in his office. So when the execs had called for a staff meeting, I knew what it meant. 

I spritz on my favorite perfume, grab my bag and head to the car. On the drive in, I stop at my favorite coffee shop and treat myself to a latte. That was usually reserved for the weekend, but it’s Friday and today, I would be promoted to VP of Creative and Artist Development. I think that called for a latte. 

I pull my old black Jeep into my usual spot towards the back of our building’s shared parking lot and look at the clock. Ten minutes until nine, just on time. I turn the key, take a slight hop out of the car and head towards the office. A couple minutes later, I sit down with my coffee and laptop, taking a minute to savor the quiet before the meeting started. 

“So we have some news to share with everyone today. It’s bittersweet to announce that our good friend and fellow founder of Reverie Records, Brian has decided to retire effective immediately,” Kent Jennings, the president and CEO announced. “Obviously with this news, that leaves a large gap within the company. Very large shoes to fill.” He stops to look around the room. I know he’s intentionally trying to build suspense, and it’s working. There’s a few murmurs and glances in my direction while he pauses for a dramatic length of time. 

“Thankfully, there’s someone who has been quietly learning all there is to know about how we handle Creative and Artist Development at Reverie,” he continues, eyes sparkling with delight. This is it. This is it. This is it. Don’t forget to act surprised! I prepare myself. “That’s why I’m delighted. No, honored and proud to announce that our new VP for this area is our very own Archer Jennings!” 

The shock that falls over my face is definitely not an act. “That’s right! My very own son has accepted the role and I know he will do great things. While he may be young, he was raised in the industry and there’s no one I would trust more to fill this role. And I’m sure his Uncle Brian would be happy to consult from time to time.” Kent looks over to Brian, and winks. 

That’s when Brian turns to look at me. I make a not-so-subtle nodding motion with my head that I hope he interprets as “we need to talk”. He gives me a curt nod and I know he’s gotten the message. I sit there and feel my pulse humming in my neck, my heart pounding in my chest and try to breathe through the anger for the remainder of the meeting. No way in hell was I staying for the post meeting refreshments where everyone was “encouraged to stick around and congratulate Archer on his new role.” I would rather eat my shoe. 

Slamming the door to Brian’s office, my voice thunders. “Archer Jennings, are you kidding me? Did you know about this?” He motions for me to lower my voice for sake of the office hearing all of this and I nod. 

“I did not. I wouldn’t have had the conversation with you a few days ago if I knew. When I had talked about it with Kent, we had confirmed you were the obvious choice. I’m not sure when that changed but I can’t entirely say I’m surprised. Kent always had a tendency to do whatever he wanted, even when it wasn’t the best choice.” he mused. 

I have flashbacks to my first encounter with Archer Jennings. He had been brought on as an intern a couple years ago, when I was just promoted to manager. He had undermined me every chance he got and his decisions always ended up costing the label money or publicly flopping. When it did, he’d pull the daddy card and with that, there wasn’t much I could really do about it. It had been the longest two months. It was possible he had matured since then but I highly doubted it. Wild with emotion, I decide, “Either I get promoted to VP of Creative and he can keep Artist Development or I leave.” My voice firm, as I lay out my demands. This wasn’t like me at all. I wasn’t normally anywhere this confident, but the anger was making me bold. 

“Emma, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do except say that I’m sorry. I really thought you were getting the promotion.” His tone was genuine. “Are you serious about your resignation?” 

“You know that I am. I will not work for that man. If you can even call him that. If your retirement is effective immediately, so is my resignation.” I swing the door open, fuming, and head to my desk. Quickly stopping at the supply room to grab a box for my belongings. Yes, this seemed rash but my brain had always moved fast and I had used the remainder of the meeting earlier to consider my options. Option one: stay and work under Archer Jennings was quickly ruled out. Option two: Stay and suffer through it until you find another job. Was definitely more rational but I decided on Option Three: Quit immediately and take your time to find something new. Thanks to my good job and lack of social life, I have been able to accumulate an impressive amount of savings. 

Still shaking from anger and disbelief, I pack my stuff as carefully as I can. Thankfully, it seems like everyone else was in the conference room enjoying the aforementioned refreshments. If I time it right, I can get out of here with no one knowing. No awkward goodbyes, no accidentally blowing up on Kent or Archer the way I did to Brian. No, I needed to get out of here. I only have a couple photos and small objects on my desk so a few minutes later, I’m stomping my way back to my Jeep. I throw the small box into the passenger seat when I climb in, currently not even caring if something breaks. I reverse out of my spot and my arms are shaking as I pull out of the parking lot “buh-bye” I mentally sing as I leave it in my rearview. 

I know eventually the anger will recede and rational thought will re-enter my brain. I will momentarily consider if I lost my mind and ruined everything, But I also know that once I make a decision about something, I don’t look back. It happened when I left Boston and moved to Nashville to pursue a career in music. It happened in the third grade when my best friend told me I couldn’t have any other friends, we didn’t speak after that day. It happened when I found out my high school crush smoked, my die hard crush was poof, gone. Call it stubbornness, call it pride, call it self-preservation, once I come to my own conclusion about something, that’s it. 

I get home and by this point, I’m in a dream state. You know what? I think. I’m past due for a vacation. So I open my laptop and search “relaxing vacation spots.” Bali, Iceland, Sedona who’s relaxing in Sedona?,  Mykonos… so I was hoping for something less expensive travel wise. Having no job now and all. So I refine my search to destinations in the U.S. I have always wanted to go to Maine. I’ve heard good things about Charleston, Sedona again? Then I see Cannonsville, TN. Sure it’s a known tourist trap, but the mountains give it a stunning backdrop. Someone at work had stayed in a cabin there recently and said it was peaceful if you avoided touristy areas. I’ve always wanted to go. 

Fun fact, there’s a part of me that would love to live in a cabin outside of town. It feels cozy and quiet. Like you could really unplug from work, from the world there. So I search for cabins available and continue dreaming. Frustration seeps in when I’m not finding anything – sure I’m trying to find something available same day and it’s nearing the end of the summer, families are probably getting in a final vacation before school starts. But hope returns once I find a quaint looking apartment for rent. It’s the upstairs residence for one of the buildings in their downtown square. I open a new tab and search “Caney Creek, TN.” 

So their town website is dated to say the least. But I learn that it’s about twenty minutes away from Cannonsville, it was founded in the 1900s and has a population of – my eyes go wide and I read the number again – 507. I’m pretty sure this town had less people than my apartment complex. I switch back to look at the apartment available. It’s bigger than my actual apartment. Has a small kitchenette, decent sized living room and bedroom, separated by an old barn door. The bathroom looks cramped but overall, it was charming. And for an entire week, it would be $500. Sold. 

I dig out my suitcase and start packing way too many clothes. Dresses, shorts, pajamas, loungewear, bathing suit – who knows – shirts and a jacket or two. I like to have options. I’m cramming toiletries into my bag when I hear the ping of a new email hitting my inbox. I stop and read through the instructions for check in and my stay. It was very thorough and detailed. It ends with a phone number to contact for emergencies and is signed Theodore Bakeman, Esq. Bakeman Law. I shoot off a quick reply thanking him for all of the information and letting him know I will be there just in time for check in.