Good for You: A Novel (54)

A few hours later, Aly took a sip of coffee and gazed out the double doors at the beach. Upstairs, Wyatt was still asleep, and the sun had just appeared in the sky; the beach was empty. Maybe she’d go for a walk before lunch. After all, there were less than two weeks until she headed back to New York.

Focus on now, Aly reminded herself. Not tomorrow. Not next month or next year. Just right now. She’d literally rolled her eyes when she read this advice in a mindfulness column the magazine had run a few months earlier. Even though she was already the editor in chief at that point, she didn’t feel secure in the position—and she had the bank balance to prove it. Not thinking about the future was out of the question.

She wasn’t rolling her eyes anymore. Apparently, money had this impact. When you weren’t always worrying about how to pay for your life, you could actually take a beat to enjoy it.

But it occurred to her that part of what she enjoyed most about life was being an editor—creating beautiful, meaningful content and sharing it with the world. Maybe Wyatt didn’t understand this, and that was why he wanted her to stay.

In the kitchen, Aly’s phone began ringing. She’d left it on the counter the evening before, and she was surprised the battery hadn’t died. When she saw Meagan’s name on the screen, she wished it had.

“This is Aly,” she answered curtly.

“I know, Aly. It’s Meagan. Did you get my email?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. I wasn’t sure if you were still using that address.”

“I am.” She could practically hear Meagan squirming on the other end of the line. Good—let her.

“I really am sorry, Aly.”

“Thanks. I accept your apology.” That wasn’t true; she hadn’t fully forgiven her yet. But there was no need to get into that right now. “Why are you calling me?”

“Well, because I wanted to apologize for what happened. I have to say—I was really impressed by what you said.”

“Pardon?” sputtered Aly. What had she said, anyway?

“I know you seemed a little . . . uh. You know. Upset. But honestly, I was relieved.”

“About?” said Aly, since she was not about to confess that she couldn’t remember their argument.

“Just—you’ve been holding your feelings in for months now. It was a relief to see you be . . . well, normal.”

Normal? Whatever happened, it was the opposite of normal. “I have not been holding my feelings in.”

“Hmm,” said Meagan. “My point is, I was glad to see you say what you were thinking. I have a lot of respect for that, and I’m sorry that someone thought it was a good idea to tape it and put it online.”

So it hadn’t been Meagan who uploaded the footage to YouTube. Aly was surprised to realize how much better she felt, knowing that.

“What you said about work . . . It really got me thinking,” Meagan continued. “Which brings me to the real reason I’m calling. So . . . are you ready?” Aly half expected her to add a drumroll for dramatic effect. “I left All Good !”

What? It took Aly a moment to process what Meagan had said. Once she had, the relief she’d felt instantly disappeared. Here she was, fighting to get her job back at the magazine, and Meagan was casually walking away from it? What did she want—congratulations? A certificate of completion? Perhaps a lifetime membership to the Lemming Society?

“Don’t you want to know why?” said Meagan.

“Not really,” said Aly. Did this mean perhaps James would rethink his decision to make her editorial director? There were no other viable contenders on the staff, and training someone who had no prior knowledge of the magazine would be a beast.

“Okay, I deserve that. But the whole situation with the video opened my eyes to the truth.”

“Which is?” asked Aly, still thinking about who would fill the vacancy Meagan had created.

“Consumer magazines are getting it backward, and they’re completely wasting top talent, too. Like, obviously, you.”

“Okay . . .”

Meagan cleared her throat. “I’m starting a custom publishing company. It’s going to be entirely staffed with former editors, and we’ll help major brands create magazines for their consumers and employees. I want you to be the first to join me.”

The sip of coffee Aly had just taken shot down the wrong pipe, causing her to choke.

“Are you okay?” said Meagan.

“Fine,” she managed. “But why would you want to work with a . . .” Even now, she heard Luke, reminding her to use the dictionary and not the thesaurus, and she couldn’t bring herself to repeat the word Meagan had used to describe her at the salad place. “You know.”

“I never should’ve called you that,” said Meagan quickly. “I was so jealous of you for getting the top job, even though I knew you deserved it. And obviously I know you weren’t behind the pay cuts. I’ve been seeing my therapist twice a week, and she’s helped me recognize that. I want to make things right between us, Aly.”

“So you’re offering me a job.”

“Yes! I’m not going to make the same mistake James did. I’ve hired a business coach and confirmed that this is a sustainable model. I have start-up capital, too.” Meagan didn’t say from who, but Aly already knew it was from her parents, who owned a shipping business and had homes scattered across the country. “The companies who hire us will cover all production costs, so we never have to worry about advertising again. We can be more inventive, and the profit margins are so, so good. I already have a client signed up and everything,” she said, then named a major outdoor adventure retailer; Aly was willing to bet the company’s CEO was friends with Meagan’s parents. “They’ve given us a budget of one million, just for one year!”