Fly to my Heart

Emily leaned against the cold, steel counter at the Brooklyn diner where she worked, her fingers absently tracing the worn edges of a crumpled postcard from Paris. The image of the Eiffel Tower glistened beneath the soft glow of the overhead lights, its metallic structure towering over the charming Parisian streets. It was a place that had always existed in her dreams, and it seemed to whisper promises of a brighter future. "Emily!" the cook shouted from behind, snapping her out of her reverie. "Order up!" "Coming!" Emily replied, tucking the postcard into her apron pocket as she grabbed the scrambled eggs and toast plate. She whisked it to the waiting customer with a polite smile, her heart heavy with the weight of unfulfilled aspirations. "Merci," she murmured under her breath, practicing the French she'd been teaching herself during quiet moments like these. Her mind wandered to the pages of her notebook, filled with stories set in the city of love, where she imagined herself sipping café au lait in a quaint little café while crafting her masterpiece. "Emily, can I talk to you for a second?" Her best friend, Natalie, caught her arm as she passed. Emily followed her to a quiet corner of the diner, away from the hustle and bustle of clanging silverware and bubbling conversations. "Listen, I know you've been dreaming of something more than this place," Natalie said softly, her eyes full of concern. "And I think I found an opportunity for you." "An opportunity?" Emily's pulse quickened with curiosity and hope. "What is it?" Natalie handed her a newspaper clipping, which Emily scanned. Her eyes widened as she read about a wealthy Manhattan family seeking a live-in nanny for their young daughter. The salary listed would allow her to save enough money to make her dream of living in Paris a reality. "Natalie, this is... I don't even know what to say," Emily stammered, her heart fluttering with excitement and trepidation. "But you know how I feel about working for the wealthy, and they're, and they're so... entitled." "I know, but you can't let stereotypes hold you back," Natalie insisted, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Besides, it sounds like they're looking for someone compassionate and adaptable – that's you, Em! And they'll provide room and board so you could save up for your move to Paris much faster." Emily hesitated, her fingers gripping the newspaper clipping tightly as she weighed her options. The familiar hum of the diner seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the tantalizing possibility of a new life unfolding before her. Her dream of writing in Paris shimmered on the horizon, beckoning her forward. "Alright," Emily sighed, her resolve strengthened by the fire in her friend's eyes. "I'll give it a shot." "Seriously?!" Natalie squealed, enveloping her in a tight hug. "You won't regret this, Em. I know it." As Emily returned to the counter, she couldn't help but feel torn between the world she knew and the future she'd always longed for. With each step toward Manhattan and the unknown, she'd be leaving behind the comfort of Brooklyn and the people who had become her family over the years. "Paris," she whispered, clutching the postcard-like a talisman. "For Paris, I can do this." That following evening Emily was staring at the application in front of her. "Here goes nothing," Emily whispered as she typed out a thoughtful application, highlighting her passion for early childhood education and adaptability to new challenges. As Emily clicked "submit" on her application, she felt mixed emotions. Will this help her goal for Paris? She shuts down her laptop and flops on her bed, looking up at the ceiling. What if she doesn't get the nanny position? Will she be stuck at the diner for ten years to go to Paris? She let out a loud, strangled yell and hurled the pillow across the room. She buried her face in her hands, mumbling something unintelligible as her body shook with sobs. Her life only had one purpose once she graduated college: to move to Paris. But it seems that life keeps throwing obstacles at her; one moment, she is one step closer, and the next, she is ten steps back. Emily's emotions are high, and eventually, the inner turmoil that she is feeling slowly goes away. She curled into a tight ball and pulled the blanket to her chin. She took a few deep breaths, trying to slow her racing heart. Her eyes were heavy, but her mind refused to shut off. She repeated a mantra under her breath, "It'll be okay," until eventually slipping into slumber." She jolted awake as her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand, singing a loud ringtone. With eyes still heavy with sleep, she blindly grabbed it. "Hello," she murmured, her voice low and muffled from being buried in her pillow. Her head was heavy against the coolness of the bedding; her eyes still closed as if opening them was too much for her weary body. "May I speak to Miss Williams, Please?" A delicate young voice speaks through the phone. Emily adjusts her eyes as she blinks at the phone, glancing at the time. It's 8 am! She blinks a few more times, getting used to the morning light. "Yes, this is Emily." Her voice sounds more awake now. Silently she clears her throat. "Great, I'm Bella, an assistant to Mr. Harrison. We received your job application for the nanny position and would like you to come in for an interview. I know this may be last minute, but would you be available this morning at 10 am?" Flinging herself out of bed, Emily jumps with one leg while trying to balance putting on jeans. "Yes, I can be there at 10 am." She fumbled with the phone, and her fingers reached her jeans. She hopped across the room, nearly tripping on a rug, and bounded into the bathroom. "Perfect! We look forward to meeting you." In the background, Emily hears rapid typing on a keyboard. "I just sent you a confirmation email confirming your interview. You'll find the location and time. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact me. Have a great day Miss Williams." The call ends. Emily looks dumbfounded at her phone. Was she dreaming? This has to be a dream. She is looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her red curly hair looks like it went through a massive tornado in the middle of the night. She squints closer and notices drool marks on the side of her mouth; she has no desire to smell her breath. Emily muttered a curse and rushed to the bathroom sink, quickly wetting her face. She raked her fingers through her curls to control the wild strands. She grabbed her toothbrush, brimming with minty toothpaste, and brushed her teeth as fast as she could while glancing at the clock. With only minutes to spare, Emily quickly changed into clean clothes and ran out the door. The downside of living in a busy city, such as the Bronx. The distance from a place may be farther than it seems by car. But that is a mirage. Taking a taxi is out of the question; she only has an hour and a half to get to Manhattan. Her choice of shoes was black heels that were 6 inches. Emily starts in a fast-paced run down the street, her heels clicking and clacking against the hot summer pavement. The red curls bouncing around in the humid air will only cause it to frizz. Groaning to herself, she should have put more mousse or hairspray in. Too late to dwell on it, she races to the subway. As Emily surfaced from the musty subway station, she quickly pulled out her phone to check the time. She was fifteen minutes early. Taking a momentary break, she looked up at the towering building with its massive stone columns and intricate cornices, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as she checked the address against the email. Steeling herself for what was ahead, Emily took one more deep breath before marching into the lobby. Emily smoothed down her long skirt and adjusted her blazer as she walked toward the receptionist's desk. She cleared her throat to get their attention and smiled warmly when their eyes met. "Good morning." She enunciated clearly, "I'm Emily, here for an interview with Mr. Harrison." She spoke confidently, meeting the receptionist's gaze without a hint of hesitation. The receptionist looked Emily up and down before finally fixing her gaze on Emily's face. Her lips lifted in a tight smile while her calm eyes seemed to size Emily up. "Ah yes, Miss Williams, we've been expecting you." She gestured towards the elevator with a flick of her wrist. "The elevator to the 10th floor is right behind you." Emily stepped into the elevator, her heels clicking on the slick marble floor. She ran a hand through her hair and adjusted her blazer, trying to avoid glancing at the mirrored walls. The doors opened with a ding, and she entered a lavish waiting room filled with leather chairs and dark mahogany furniture. Emily carefully sat down on the leather chair closest to her, smoothing down her pencil skirt and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her heart raced as she looked around the room, taking in the sleek desks and expensive-looking art on the walls. She slowly released the breath she had been holding in as her stomach unfurled from its tight knot – she had made it. Emily heard a man's voice behind her, deep and husky, with just a slight hint of an Irish accent. He had the trace of a New Jersey drawl in his words as he called out, "Miss Williams." She turned around to find him standing before her, tall and broad-shouldered with olive skin that seemed to glisten beneath the fluorescent lights. His thick chestnut hair was closely trimmed and styled back, revealing a strong forehead and chiseled features. Brown eyes framed by long lashes peer piercingly out from beneath dark eyebrows as he smiles gently at her, surrounded by the stubble of his beard. Emily blushed in delight at seeing him; this man was handsome.