Changing Courses

**Rachel**

The day after our meeting at the coffee shop, I contacted Thompson, who promptly informed me that there was an assistant position for his secretary and asked me to come to his office on Monday. Although I had gotten exactly what I wanted—a job, any job—I felt uneasy in Thompson's presence and was apprehensive about it. Nonetheless, I wouldn't hesitate to seize this opportunity.

When the day finally came to go to the company that had belonged to my father for decades, I felt even stranger. Even the nausea, which I had been managing with medication, was tormenting me again. I put on a simple, formal dress that I still had in my wardrobe, a piece I bought to wear when I visited Lorenzo's family in Italy, which seemed like ages ago. After putting my hair up in a severe bun and applying light, discreet makeup, I was satisfied.

However, as soon as I finished getting ready, the nausea returned with even more force, and I had to rush to the bathroom. That’s how Lindsay found me, kneeling beside the toilet and vomiting my breakfast.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go to Mitchell in this state, Rachel," Lindsay complained while helping me up.

"I have no intention of canceling, Lindsay," I replied with determination. "I won't miss this opportunity that Thompson is offering me. No one has ever done something like this for me, not even for Sarah, who has always been a much better person than I am."

"You're being unfair, Rachel," Lindsay protested.

"Why do you think that?" I asked, surprised.

"You're forgetting that Enrico got a job for Sarah at the racing team and even for us, in his own house."

I wasn't pleased that Lindsay was defending Enrico, especially when he refused to believe me about the pregnancy.

"You're just forgetting that he did all that for selfish reasons," I pointed out irritably.

"Sure, Enrico had his motives," Lindsay at least agreed with what I said. "But that doesn't diminish his merit in helping. Just because he made a mistake now doesn't mean we should erase the good things he did for both of us."

I couldn't believe that, for the first time Lindsay and I disagreed, the reason was Enrico. It was ridiculous, and I refused to continue with that pointless argument.

"I'm leaving now because I don't want to be late for my meeting with Jensen Thompson," I said, to prevent the conversation from going any further. "We'll talk when I get back."

My friend remained silent, and I knew she was upset because I didn't agree with her position. However, I sincerely hoped she would consider and understand that I also had my reasons for being upset.

Before leaving, I went to the garden to check on Joseph and to ask him an important question. I had already shared a bit of my story with Joseph and how I ended up in that situation.

"I thought an ocean of distance between you and Enrico would be enough..." Joseph commented sadly when he saw me dressed to go to Mitchell. "But it seems I was mistaken."

I felt somewhat guilty towards Joseph, after all, he believed that I had returned to Seattle mainly for myself, and now I was simply planning to leave it all behind.

"I came to see you before I left because I need to ask you a question."

Joseph didn't know, but my decision depended primarily on his answer.

"I already have an idea of what you'd like to know," Joseph anticipated. "My decision to return to Seattle was made before yours, and you shouldn't feel responsible for it."

His answer brought relief to my heart, and I sighed more calmly at that moment.

"I feel better about it now," I confessed. "Even knowing that your quick return was, in a way, my responsibility. I won't completely absolve myself of the guilt."

"What motivated me to return to the United States was realizing that, regardless of where Enrico and I are, we are distant from each other. It's as if there is always an invisible wall of ice between us."

I couldn't contest Joseph's statement, as I fully agreed with him.

"I don't know what actually happened, Joseph, but I can say that there are many unspoken words, and an honest conversation between you two could bring more peace to this relationship."

"It doesn't matter anymore," he said dismissively. "Now go. Do what your heart tells you, Rachel."

The fact that I wasn't the main reason brought me a bit more peace. Even doubting whether it was truly the best decision for me, something told me to seize the opportunity to move forward with my life, and that’s exactly what I did.

When I arrived in front of the Mitchell building, a strange emotion took over as I remembered all the times Sarah and I visited that building to see our father, who spent more time there than at home.

Only when I understood that the reason my father didn't want to be at home was related to a mistress he had, did I start creating situations to pressure him into coming back. That’s why I always asked Sarah to accompany me to the company and bring Patrick back home.

Most of the time, this strategy worked, and even our mother started using it as a weapon in her quest for her husband's love. However, things now appeared different to me, and I was beginning to realize that the problems had started long before I understood what was happening in our family.

Despite the bad feeling that had been with me since I left Joseph's house, I entered the thirty-story building. Most of the employees already knew me, but they were probably also aware of my current insignificant status. That’s how I communicated with the receptionist as I approached the counter.

"I have an appointment scheduled with Mr. Jensen Thompson," I told her.

"Just a moment while I check if your name is on the list."

I didn't like the way the receptionist looked at me, but I remained impassive. After all, I wasn’t in a position to upset anyone else in my life, as the list of enemies was already long. I smiled despite everything.

"You may go up," she authorized reluctantly. "Mr. Thompson's office is on the twenty-ninth floor."

I sighed resignedly—one of the many sighs I had that day—and headed to the elevator, knowing exactly where they were located. A few minutes later, I was being led to Thompson's office, who greeted me with a cordial smile.

"I asked you to come here just for a brief conversation," Thompson explained. "All instructions will be provided by my secretary. She will explain all the tasks and company rules."

With difficulty, I managed to suppress a scornful laugh when I heard him talk about company rules, considering that less than a year ago, everything belonged to my father. It was ironic to think about it.

There wasn't much more to say, so I just nodded. Thompson introduced me to Susan, with whom I had already had a brief interaction when I arrived at the office. I spent the rest of the afternoon learning the administrative routines of the department and all the tasks I would need to perform.

Although it was too early to be certain, I sensed a certain antipathy between Thompson's secretary and me. It was still too soon to draw any conclusions about this matter.

By the end of the day, my feet were aching from walking back and forth and following all of Susan's orders. As if that wasn't enough, Susan was organizing her desk, probably getting ready to leave. Unexpectedly, she took a perfume bottle out of her bag and applied a generous amount to her body, covering every possible spot.

The strong, musky scent started to make me slightly nauseous, and the feeling gradually intensified. I looked at my phone, relieved to see it was exactly five o'clock, meaning I could leave at that moment.

I asked Susan what time I should arrive the next morning, just to confirm it was indeed nine o'clock. When Susan confirmed, I said goodbye and headed for the hallway. However, the nausea was becoming stronger, so I went in the opposite direction of the elevators and headed to the bathroom on the same floor, which Susan had already pointed out to me.

Only after feeling a bit better and ensuring there wouldn't be any unpleasant surprises, did I wash my face and go to the elevator, entering quickly when the doors opened. Before the doors closed and the elevator started to rise, Thompson also entered, showing surprise at seeing me there.

"Still here?" Thompson commented.

I smiled awkwardly at the remark, considering it had been at least ten minutes since I had finished work.

"I was in the... bathroom," I had to confess.

"I understand," Thompson was kind enough not to delve into the subject and then asked, "Where do you live, Rachel?"

I responded with the name of the neighborhood where Joseph's house was located, although I didn't understand the sudden question.

"What a great coincidence," he said expansively. "I'm heading there too... I can give you a ride home!"