The Last Dreamer Read Free Page A

school—double-checking in the mirror that Matt had his violin—and parked near the Scarsdale Café for her date with Jodi than she received a sobering and unwanted response:
Wish I could say your idea would fly, but that Kate Spade girl is hardly worth a feature. I remember you like profiles about little people with big dreams, but they’re pretty old school these days. We need stories with big names that can increase our social-media presence. Now if you get your hands on something like that, write it up and send it over, I’ll give it a look. And btw, thanks for the congrats!
    Sitting in the turned-off car, Iliana stared at her phone until her cold, ungloved fingers started to ache. Stuart had barely taken enough time to read her idea before flatly rejecting it. And though his note had a friendly tone, his characterization of her idea as “old school” stung. As for the end of the note—how could she get her hands on a story about someone famous when she was out here in the suburbs, her days filled with chauffeuring kids, dropping off clothes, and fetching preshave? He hadn’t even raised the possibility of an assignment—just gave a vague offer to give her work “a look.” She had been on the staff of Business Times for eight years, she had helped train him when he joined the magazine five years after she did, and he couldn’t even say that he’d love her to write for him? He wasn’t interested. To him she was a has-been.
    She sighed. She had been down this road before, when her ideas were dismissed or rejected by Redbook , Parents ,and all the others. And this was even harder to take, since Stuart was someone she knew. She could foresee how the next few days would go. She would study Stuart’s email for an hour or two, trying to glean something positive from his response or hoping he’d email again to say he’d reconsidered. And then, when neither happened, she’d crash. She’d be miserable and angry for days, short with the kids and Marc, cool to anyone who crossed her path. She’d remind herself constantly that Stuart found her useless. And then she’d slowly wipe herself up off the floor.
    This was not how she had expected her career to go. She had joined Business Times a year after college, moving there from an entry-level public relations job because she wanted to be in publishing. She thought that after a couple of years, when she had some professional writing experience under her belt, she could move to one of the big women’s magazines. And a few years after that, when she had made a name for herself in the publishing industry, she could start on her book. Her idea was to find four people who had come to New York City and prevailed despite obstacles—a lack of money or education, extreme youth, or disapproving parents or families. She wanted her book to showcase the vast possibilities of New York, and to analyze the kind of determination that could propel people to extraordinary and unlikely success.
    But somehow she never made it out of Business Times . It was a comfortable place for her, and she was content. She received lots of praise for sniffing out news or scooping the competition, as well as regular pay raises. The time she stayed behind at a press conference about West Side development and got a direct quote from Donald Trump, she earned a bouquet of red roses from the publisher and a bonus. Five years into the job, she got her promotion, which brought with it more money and prestige. She figured she had plenty of time to move to the next career stage.
    Then along came Marc, and everything changed. She met him on the way home from a weekend getaway in the Poconos, and he soon became her top priority. Being in love consumed much of the time and attention she once poured into her job—as did planning a wedding, starting a household, moving to the suburbs, and expecting a baby. She returned briefly to Business Times after her maternity leave, but found that she missed Matthew terribly.