Life Is But a Dream

By Andrea Nourse

Poised. Graceful. Organized. Yes, Rebecca Jane has it all – Kyle, her handsome, loving fiancé, her dream career and her five-year plan. She is successful and driven and up for a promotion as long as her evil co-monster, Hannah, stays out of her way as they tackle an interesting, new client together.

Rebecca is on the verge of greatness – at least in her own mind.

As it usually does, her past finally catches up with her. Now, at thirty, Rebecca is questioning who she is and the choices she made along the way. Is she really ready to settle down and be Mrs. Kyle Turner?

Rebecca is forced to reevaluate everything she thought she ever wanted and to finally face the fact that she never really let go of the past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrea Nourse
• Release date: Dec 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463775097

Andrea Nourse

As a child, Andrea found her creative outlet through rewriting the lyrics to the songs she heard blaring through the speakers of her mom’s 1980-something Dodge Charger. In her teens, she found herself drawn to pop and country music and started penning lyrics filled with the pining of teenage dreams. She continued writing songs well into her twenties, but eventually found her way to college where she studied marketing and public relations.It was in her final semester at Middle Tennessee State University that she finally put pen to paper and decided to write a full-length novel. Her first novel, Bittersweet, never made it past the hands of her friends. In November of 2013, Andrea made the commitment to write 50K words in30 days as part of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). That novel, Life is But a Dream, was released in 2014.Andrea's follow-up novel, Happily Ever Never, is set for release in the fall of 2018.Andrea currently lives in Nashville with her husband, Jeff, and their two children, Jackson and Annabeth. She has a B.S. in Mass Communication from MTSU and an MBA from the University of Memphis.

Book preview

Chapter One

This is not how I expected things to play out. Not. At. All. I am poised, graceful, organized and on top of my game. Yet there I was, flat on my back with a giant flip chart on top of me and coffee slowly burning its way through the sleeve of my blouse. There were markers, pens and bagels scattered all over one end of the enormous conference table and surrounding carpet. My blue eyes on the verge of unleashing a stream of tears and my once perfectly coiffed brown hair was now completely disheveled. I resembled a morning after walk of shame and not the professional businesswoman I had worked so hard to become. My coworkers and the entire board of directors sat in silence; doing everything they could to avoid eye contact. Yes, I, Rebecca Jane, am the poster child for poised, graceful and organized.

Needless to say, I had other plans for this meeting. Today was supposed to be my day to shine – and to shame Hannah, the evil co-monster. Her presentation had been flawless, of course. The board had oohed and aahed over her analysis of market trends; they even clapped when she finished, for crying out loud. Her final statement was something to the effect of, I am a genius and because of this, we will beat out every single one of the other agencies in town. Her perfectly painted lips remained in a smirk for the better part of her presentation, the same smirk that greeted me when I stood to take over.

Consumer behavior isn’t a titillating topic for most, but it’s my bread and butter. After all, I spent four years at NYU studying and researching, and then I focused my master’s on the topic. So I should have had no problem standing up in front of my colleagues to share stuff that I know better than the back of my hand. Turns out, the sharing what I know part was a lot easier than the standing part.

The room had fallen dead silent – well, except for the slow drip of the spilled coffee as it travelled from the table to the floor. As I lay there, I silently made a list of all of the ways I could handle the situation. I could get up, brush it off and move on as if nothing had happened; I could run from the building, never to return, and move into a cardboard box on the corner; or, I could just chalk it up and break into hysterical laughter. Being the poised, professional lady that I am, I of course chose the third option. For a moment, the sound of my laughter echoed around the room, then, slowly but surely, the rest of the room joined in with their own hysterical laughter and clapping.

Once I regained some composure, I stood up, straightened my black pencil skirt, dabbed the coffee off my shirt and ran my fingers through my hair in an attempt to smooth it back into place. Then I made eye contact with each and every person at the table, to reassure them (and myself) that the comedic interlude had ended and I was ready to resume business. For the next twenty minutes, I nailed it – and miraculously managed to get through the presentation and hit all the high points of the extensive research I’d put into the presentation – all while sounding like my usual poised and confident self. Most importantly, I did this without tripping over my own feet and sending office supplies flying through the air.

This, unfortunately, is me in a nutshell. On the outside I come across a little shy and quiet, but also opinionated, driven and a little demanding (or, as my sister likes to say, bossy). Inside, I am a powerful lioness, confident and ready to pounce. The trouble happens when the internal meets the external and I pounce, only to trip over the knock-off designer heels it took me two weeks to learn to walk in. Obviously, I should have spent more time practicing.

You looked like a tornado! Megan Sampson, my biggest ally at work, told me after the meeting. I wish I could have recorded the whole thing. The coffee flying, the flip chart flipping and landing on your head. She shot me a sympathetic look, but it was the kind where the person’s lips are twitching and you know they really want to laugh at you.

I get it, Meg, it was hysterical, I sighed, shaking my head. My cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment. I was never going to live this down.

Megan is a petite bottle redhead who befriended me on my very first day at Grayson Strategies and Innovation. She came into my office and announced we were doing lunch and she’s had my back ever since.

Did you see Hannah’s face? She was literally smiling the whole time.

Yeah, I sighed again. She nailed her presentation too. I said this through gritted teeth, not bothering to hide my contempt. In my opinion, the whole situation was patently unfair and I didn’t care if it came across as unprofessional. After all, Megan was the one person who’d understand – she is the one who’d dubbed Hannah the co-monster.

True to form, she offered me a look of disgusted solidarity, then headed back to her office.

An hour later, I was staring out the oversized window of my own 18 th floor office. It wasn’t a corner office, but it was better than I’d dreamt it would be when I took this job five years ago. Some days I could just get lost in the skyline, staring at the other office buildings and wondering who was behind the windows, what they were doing. Were they staring back and watching me? Were they working or playing?

Captain Bob Gussmeyer works on the fifth floor of the building directly across from ours. If I stand at a certain spot by my window, I can see straight into his office. All I can make out are his desk and a bookshelf with what looks like a commercial pilot’s hat resting on top. Captain Bob is a retired commercial airline pilot, married with two grown kids (a boy and a girl), and a brand new grandbaby. He enjoys fly-fishing and walking his labradoodle, Betsy. He now works as a loan officer at the Bank of Nashville – a job he hates, but keeps because it pays the bills. I’ve never met Captain Bob Gussmeyer and don’t know if any of the life I’ve imagined for him is true, but a little part of me likes to believe it is.

Then there is Susie Finkle; her office is just a few floors above Captain Bob’s, although like me, she had not yet crossed paths with him. Susie’s single, but has a large group of girlfriends that meet for drinks at happy hour once a week. Binkie and Boo, Susie’s two cats, are her fur babies. She keeps a picture of them on her desk and sometimes picks it up to tell them she misses them dearly during her eight hours away. Susie is an interior designer whose own house is tidy and organized, but occasionally smells of cat liter. I am quite sure that none of this is true, but I like to think Susie is a bit like me when it comes to her work ethic and five-year plan.

Granted, my five-year plan was a bit further along than poor crazy cat lady Susie. The fiancé, career and wedding planning had been checked off the bucket list. In a few months, the homeowner box would likely be as well. And if my fiancé Kyle got his way, babies one and two would soon follow. Our five-year plans weren’t aligned in the beginning, but he convinced me that mine could use a little reworking. After all, my career would likely last longer than my eggs. He actually said that to me, over lasagna and wine on our third date. He proposed on our fifth date. We were both still at NYU at the time; he was a first-year law student and I was a naive undergrad. Most girls my age would have run far, far away (like another country far away) at the first sign of extreme commitment, but I had accepted his plan and made it my own. So far, so good, I guess.

Susie and I did seem to be on similar career paths, though. If her office is any indication, she’s also mid-level management and slowly working her way up the ladder. Her desk calendar appears to be full of meetings and appointments, and she’s always on the phone or talking to someone in her office. Her business suits are expensive and always neatly pressed. Perfect is the only way to describe her hair. I mean, if we’re being honest here, my calling her a poor crazy cat lady is more about her platinum locks than anything else – jealousy is the color of platinum. At least, it would be if this story were true.

If you’re thinking that I spend all my time in the office daydreaming, you’ve got it all wrong. Since joining Grayson Strategies and Innovation, I’d worked my way up from assistant account coordinator to senior account manager. If things continued (today’s debacle not withstanding), director of accounts was next, and it wasn’t too far off. Well, that is, if Hannah stayed out of the way. Rumor had it we were both on the list for the much-coveted position.

That was a hell of a performance, Rebecca, Phillip Grayson boomed as he entered my office, startling me. I wish I could say this was the first time he’d caught me in the middle of a daydream.

I quickly spun my chair around. Oh, um, I am so sorry about that! I don’t know what happened. One minute I was talking about male consumers versus female consumers and the next thing I knew everything, including me, was flying. I laughed nervously, trying, unsuccessfully, to gauge his reaction.

At well over six feet tall, Phillip can be an imposing figure, although, truth be told, I’d never once seen him lose his temper with anyone. Even though he was knowledgeable and very well respected, he never put on airs or demanded respect – he always earned it. The clients loved him, and the women in the office swooned when he walked by, yet he seemed oblivious to all of it. He never wore a tie—was known for his disdain for them – but always looked professional.

Phillip nodded and made an unrecognizable sound before he leaned out the door and called Hannah in. She was wearing that smug smirk again, and I fought the urge to warn her that if she kept it up her face would freeze that way.

"Everyone is talking about your little presentation and big performance, Rebecca. Way to wow the board. The way she said little and big" made me want to hurl something heavy right at her face. Instead, I summoned the politest and fakest smile I could manage. She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and batted her blue eyes towards Phillip. In turn, I rolled mine.

Thanks, Hannah, I said, hoping my words sounded like the punch in the face I’d intended.

Phillip cleared his throat and pulled my door shut. Hannah, Rebecca, as you know, we have a vacancy on our account director team. And, I’m sure you are also aware that you two are the top candidates. He looked at Hannah and winked.

Well, at least it looked like a wink from my angle. It could have been a blink or a twitch or a look of sheer disgust. But judging by the way she smiled back at him, it had to be a wink. My stomach turned just a little.

What I need to know is that both of you can co-manage and work on a project together. Because if one of you gets the position, you’ll be collaborating on a daily basis. He stressed the word if – implying there was a chance that neither one of us would land the position.

Hannah nodded towards Phillip and I smiled at him. This was not going to end well.

We have a new client coming in this week, one that Martin has recently brought in. They are a relatively young company with a revolutionary product, and they are putting it in our hands. The brand will need a full identity, strategy and plan. You two are going to work together on this. You’ll be assigned a team of assistants, designers and copywriters, just as you would if you were the account director.

This is a fantastic opportunity Mr. Grayson, Hannah gushed, her big, fake smirky smile in place, I cannot wait to work with Rebecca. She is almost like a mentor to me!

I gagged a little. Hannah was barely five years younger than me and acted as if I was alive when Lincoln was learning to read in Nebraska.

With Herculean effort, I held my own fake smile in place. Oh, absolutely, I can’t wait to get started! Phillip, may I ask who the client is?

---

Brillig Enterprises. You probably haven’t heard of them, as they’re pretty new on the scene. Your first project will be to research the company, its board of directors and the product.

Can you tell us what the product is? Hannah asked.

It’s, um, well… Phillip began. I had never seen him stammer, stutter or miss a beat. Well, it’s…um… a pharmaceutical company. Actually… Phillip walked over to the door and pulled it open. Martin, he called into the hallway, Can you come in here? If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought he was blushing.

A moment later, Martin Brandt strolled into my office as if he owned the place and we were all mere peasants, just dying to bow down at his faux leather clad feet. As usual, he reeked of Old Spice and cigars, which I knew would linger in my office the rest of the afternoon. The top three buttons of his linen shirt were unbuttoned and a thick gold chain hung around his neck, playing hide and go seek among the bushy, black chest hairs. He looked like an extra from Saturday Night Fever – or a sleazy used car salesman from Jersey.

After throwing a lecherous grin Hannah’s way, he turned to Phillip. What’s shaking?

I swear I almost vomited.

Can you fill Rebecca and Hannah in on Brillig and Eman? He pronounced it ee-man. My initial thought was it was a dating site for smarmy old men seeking much younger women. It sounded perfect for Hannah and Martin.

Sure thing, Phillip. Martin flashed his cheesy smile. Ladies… As he turned to us, I knew we were in for a forty-minute lecture that would provide precious little insight into the company or its product. Brillig is a budding pharmaceutical company focusing in reproductive sciences. Well, more pleasure than reproduction … but it all comes from the same place, right?

He winked at me. This time I was completely confident that what I saw was a wink, because it made me even more nauseous. When I glanced over at Hannah, I was surprised to find that her perma-grin had been replaced by a look of disgust. Even Phillip looked a little queasy – apparently, talking to Martin about reproduction and pleasure was enough to make anyone want to barf.

So… I began, having decided to tread lightly. Eman is a male enhancement product? I cringed a little and fought back the bile. This was not the conversation I had anticipated when Phillip walked into my office.

Exactly! Martin exclaimed, a little too excited. But, Rebecca, they are so much more.

Please do not go into detail. Please do not go into detail.

They are focused on the experience and the feelings, Martin continued, clearly oblivious to my deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. You see the whole experience is about more than an erection.

Oh, dear God make it stop!

Okay, ladies, do we get the idea? Phillip asked, clearly as eager to end the conversation as I was.

Hannah and I both nodded feverishly. Two girls in their twenties did not need to hear two middle-aged men talking about male enhancement products. If I didn’t strongly dislike Hannah, this might have been a bonding moment for us.

I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until Phillip and Martin left my office, but as soon as they shut the door behind them I exhaled loudly in relief. Hearing Martin discuss sexual pleasure was more than I could bear; even worse was that despite my embarrassment, my brain was already twirling with really terrible taglines.

Go Brillig or go home, I mumbled, not entirely realizing I’d spoken it out loud.

Hannah snickered. Brillig, you’ll grow to love us. Okay, I’ll admit this made me giggle and gained a respect point for Hannah. She was now up to one.

Meetings with Martin lasting longer than four hours may require prolonged psychiatric treatment.

Oh! Hannah exclaimed. I had no idea you had a sense of humor. And, there goes the respect point. At least she had the good sense to look embarrassed. I mean…

I waved away her attempted apology and took a seat behind my desk. Hannah pulled up a chair and we spent the rest of the afternoon researching Brillig and Eman and devising a master plan. Every once in a while, Megan would walk by, peer in, and make a face at me.

While Hannah typed up the findings from our research, I sketched out a couple of logo designs, resisting the urge to make them inappropriate or comical. It took every last ounce of maturity to do so.

What do you think? I asked, and slid the sketches across the desk towards Hannah.

She nodded. I didn’t know you could doodle.