Losing Our Way

Chapter 1

Three years later

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep

My eyes flutter open as the beeping noise gets louder near my ear. Hazily, I roll over and smack my hand down on the white alarm clock on my nightstand.

Ugh. Five more minutes.

I knew I shouldn't have had that extra glass of wine last night at Riley's number one party but I couldn't help myself. It's not everyday your first artist hits ten consecutive number one singles. Plus it was the best kind of wine; free.

Gingerly, I grab the edge of my fluffy green comforter and flip it over, letting the cool air hit my legs. I roll over, sit up, and stretch my arms above my head, attempting to shake the cloudiness.

6:30am flashes on my alarm clock. Ugh I need to get a move on if I'm making it to work on time.

I rush across my hardwood floors to my closet and throw it open, hoping an outfit will jump out at me. With no such luck, I rummage through my closet looking for something sleeveless that has a light feel to it. Los Angeles is hotter than hell in June and unless I want to sweat through my shirt before getting to work, sleeveless it is.

My hands land on a lilac silk top, pulling it off the hanger and laying it on the oversized grey chair next to my closet. I turn my attention back to the closet to search for its counterpart when my eyes land on the new midi white pencil skirt I bought from a local boutique last week. I grab it, cut the tags, and slip it on. I hunt for a nude bra to wear then slip on the top. A quick glance at the clock tells me I'll have to do with minimal makeup and settle for my natural waves over straightened hair. What the heck, it's Friday, nobody will care.

I walk into the kitchen and survive the fridge for my prepared meal. Thank God I meal prep on Sundays because breakfast would be a much bigger disaster if I had to make it in the morning. I grab the blueberry overnight oats, my water bottle, salad, cup of fruit, and cup of veggies. I'm getting the last of my things for the office together when my doorbell rings.

I fumble the last strap through the hole on my nude heels then adjust my skirt before answering the door. A short pretty blonde in a brown uniform is standing there with a tablet in one hand, a vase of flowers in the other.

"Alexis Olson?" She asks, trying not to drop anything.

"That's me." I say, reaching for the arrangement. Mom and Dad have got to stop doing this. The flowers are only getting bigger, but the one pink rose and one white rose remain the same.

"Here you go. Have a great day." She says, clicking something on her tablet and walking toward the elevator.

I take the flowers into my kitchen and set them on the counter. Over the past three years, my parents have sent me flowers during every major event in my life. Graduation, accepting my first full time job, signing my first artist, getting my first number one, my birthday, hell even when I got my own office with a window over looking the ocean. The number of red roses changes but the pink and white roses stay the same.

With one last sniff, I grab my purse, lunch bag, and water before heading out the door.

⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️⚾️

I shove a fork full of salad into my mouth as I click through my emails, trying to figure out who I should answer first. My boss insists we have to sign this young male artist from YouTube but by the tone of his email, I can tell he didn't even look at the female artist I recommended.

Sighing, I sit back in my chair and stare out at the ocean. The waves are calm today, breaking just before the sandbar and the sun is high up in the sky. Maybe I'll go to the beach this weekend after spin class. Soaking up vitamin D always puts me in a good mood and helps me relax.

As I'm lost in my daydream, Brooke, another A&R Manager and my best friend, pops into my office.

"Hey! Are you still up for the baseball game tonight?" She asks, sitting down in the comfy brown chair across from my desk.

"I never agreed to go." I point out, leaning back in my chair. I haven't been to a baseball game in five years for a reason.

"You never agreed to not go either." She says with a smile. "Come on, just go. It'll be fun!"

"I'm not feeling up to it. I think I want to stay in tonight." I reply, poking my fork around my container of salad. The mention of baseball all but spoiled my appetite.

"Listen, how about you come to the game and afterwards I'll go check out that new country bar you've been wanting to go to."

My eyes light up as I consider her offer. TCR is the hottest new country bar in L.A. with three floors and hosting four themed bars, a mechanical bull, and country line dancing.

"I can live with that." I say, turning my attention back to my computer.

She beams as she gets up from the chair and walks to the door. "Great, I'll be over to get ready around 6."

I practice my deep breathing that Morgan taught me when I'm feeling like the voice is going to take over my mind. It's only one game and I don't know anything about the team. Plus Brooke is more of a casual watcher so I doubt she'll want to stay for the whole game. She tends to get bored very easily when it comes to sports.

With one last deep breath, I push out the negative thoughts and focus on the rest of my day.