Dylan’s remark whispers through her mind and she shakes her head. It doesn’t matter what he thought about her chosen career or how she feels about her job. She worked at Vintage Chic and launched her own line of lipstick under the Vintage Chic label. Two more items down on Judy’s list of life goals. There isn’t anything else left here Joy needs to pursue. She is done.

Joy logs out of her computer and collects her purse and shoulder bag. “Something came up, Anna,” she announces to her workstation mate. She quickly gathers up a framed photo of Judy, another of her and Mark from their honeymoon, and her collection of Route 66 magnets. She adds them to her shoulder bag along with her water flask and the sweater she keeps on hand to ward off the lab’s chilly air. “I can’t make it to the staff meeting.”

Anna peeks around her monitor. “What do you want me to tell Bryce?” Their boss.

“I quit.” Joy grins at Anna’s jaw drop. “I’ll send her an email later.” Decision made, she can’t get out of the building fast enough.

“What about me?”

“Drinks tomorrow? I’ll explain,” she says. What-comes-next ideas churn. She has plans for a new career, ones she wants to implement immediately. The lab door closes on Anna’s look of incredulity.

Joy takes the elevator to the lobby. She strides toward the exit. Beyond the glass, Tenth Avenue teems with yellow cabs and pedestrians. Freedom. Her step is light, her head lifted, her smile bright. Inside she feels a noticeable absence of obligation.

“Are you leaving for the day, Ms. Larson?”

Joy stops abruptly and swivels around. Thomas watches her expectantly from behind the lobby’s security desk.

“Yes, Thomas, I’m leaving.” She approaches the desk and gives him her identification badge. He takes it, looking surprised. Joy is a dedicated, enthusiastic, and loyal employee. Colleagues describe her as a Vintage Chic lifer. No wonder she’s leaving people speechless.

Joy turns to leave but hesitates. She puts down her purse and bag and removes her lab coat. She drapes the coat over the desk. “Would you send this up to Anna Clark at Vintage Chic?” She’ll hang it up with the others.

“Sure thing, Ms. Larson,” Thomas says. “Good luck to you.”

She waves, walking away. “Goodbye, Thomas.”