“Do you think, well, could they just be brought down?”
“Ah.”
McCarthy sounds furious when Anton calls him. He’s unhinged and crazy when he yells my name.
I bite back tears. Screw him. He’s not sorry at all.
I stand and fume in the lobby as Anton goes upstairs to fetch my stuff.
How dare McCarthy act like I’m just going to roll over for him, like he owns me?
Truman wags his tail happily when he sees me. Anton puts him down on the floor. Truman immediately tries to head back to the elevator.
“We’re not going up there.” I call the dog back.
“Your clothes, I believe, are in here.” Anton hands me the quilted tote.
“Thanks.”
“You can change in the employee lounge,” he says kindly, “if you’d like.”
I shed the burgundy dress, the last of McCarthy.
“It means nothing to him,” I say to remind myself. “It’s like buying a girl a stick of gum. Meaningless.”
My ballet flats squeak quietly against the marble floor. I drape the dress over the front desk and set the heels on top.
Outside, it’s raining hard.
“He, ah…” Anton begins as I search in my bag for an umbrella. “Why don’t you take a car?”
“Did McCarthy tell you to give me a car?” I don’t mean for it to come out so sharp.
Anton winces. “He said it’s not for you, it’s for Truman. He doesn’t like the rain.”
Truman is already unhappy to be in his rain jacket instead of curled up on McCarthy’s fancy bed, being petted and fed treats.
“I’m just borrowing it,” I finally say, accepting the keys, because I don’t know where I’m going. I’m locked out of the office, and I can’t get to my mom’s house, and all I want to do is drive in the rain and yell along to old Ashlee Simpson songs until the sun comes up.
The valet has the car pulled up under the awning, and Anton sets Truman and several mouthwatering Styrofoam containers on the passenger’s seat.
“There’s utensils in the bag. I believe this is a Diet Coke.” Big white Styrofoam cups are squished into the cup holder.
“Thanks.” Impulsively, I give him a hug.
“Come back and visit, eh?”
I sob to myself as I sit in the front seat of the fancy black sedan and drive out of town.
How did this happen? This is so unfair. Why did I fall in love with him? Why did I fall in love with any of them? Oh my god, what is wrong with me? I’m never going to be happy. I’m never going to have a family. No one’s ever going to love me.
As I wallow, I’m trying to unwrap another taco one-handed before Truman can eat it, aluminum foil and all.
“And Meadow from the forest school has a pro hockey player husband, and he’s good-looking, and he loves her, and she’s the worst person on the planet and told everyone I had pinworms and to stay away from me.” Snot runs down my face.
I can barely see the road through the rain and my tears as I cry uncontrollably while eating Mexican rice and beans from the container in my lap.
“No, Truman, no! Get out of that. You have a taco, Truman. Truman!”
