“I went to bat for you!” Arty and several other employees are waiting in the office lobby. They clamor when they see me.
“I can bring the ArchiSoft account.” One girl waves her phone at me. “See? They say they’ll come with us!”
“I think there’s been a mistake.”
“Nomistake. We’re just going to go with it!” She fires off a response.
“Everyone, sign up here if you want to jump ship to Jenna’s new firm.” Hannah holds out a tablet.
“I don’t have a firm…”
The receptionist seems harried, especially when Arty opens the front door for a well-dressed older woman.
“There you are, Jennifer. I’ve been trying to reach you. I don’t understand. You young people insist that you don’t like to talk on the phone, then you don’t answer any emails I send to your text messages.”
I pull out my phone.
“You see?” The chairwoman peers over my shoulder. “I’ve sent you several messages.”
“That was you?”
“As you can imagine, we are in need of a PR person.”
My smile is a little strained.
“Since I believe I was one of the first people to message you, I should get first priority at your new company. I certainly expect to be prioritized over McCarthy and RDC, all things considered.”
Even though I want to scream, “Why do you trust me with your business?” I immediately jump into PR mode. “Don’t worry, Madame Chairwoman. I have a number of ideas to turn around this bad press.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you and McCarthy planned this whole thing.” She looks down her nose at me.
“No ulterior motives here. McCarthy slipped his leash, and things went a little sideways. He’s a difficult man to manage, but we’re back on track.”
“What the fuck?” I whisper to Hannah when we’re back in Cher, trundling toward the address of the office I apparently have.
“McCarthy set all this up for you.” Hannah is giddy. “He’s trying to get you back.”
“It won’t work.”
Not even when he’s waiting in the lobby of the office building, looking like he’s stepped out of every cheap-wine-induced fantasy I ever had. McCarthy inclines his head when I march up.
“So, this is some con to win me back?”
He looks down at me from that impossible height. “Hardly. Neither is it an apology for ruining your old job. I set this up for purely selfish reasons because I need to continue the good PR. I’m back in good graces with Salinger. Also, I don’t want his girlfriend hiring you away.”
“Away to where? Does it have benefits? PTO? What about pet insurance?”
“Focus, Cupcake.” He rests two fingers under my chin for a second.
“Before I forget…” I croak the words out and fish out the envelope of money from the consignment store before I can tell him I want to have his babies and that I made a mistake. “I sold your purse.”
He gives me a quizzical look.
“You know.” I jingle my Stanley cup at him.
“It’s yours, Jenna.” He shrugs.
“I don’t want it. I told you I don’t want expensive gifts. I cannot be bought.”
