“Jess—”
“I have to go.” I hang up before he can say anything else.
Then I stare at my phone like it personally betrayed me.
Marco mentioned my name.
Specifically.
After making me feel things I haven’t felt in years and then vanishing like I was a regrettable Tinder hookup instead of someone he spent hours talking to first.
And now he wants to hire me?
To take care of his kid?
Absolutely not.
Hard pass.
No thank you.
I open my Notes app and start typing furiously.
Reasons This IsA Terrible Idea:
- Heghostedme
- He’s my brother’s best friend
- I know nothing about kids
- Kids make me anxious
-IWAS an anxious kid
- Taking care of an anxious kid when I can barely take care of myself seems like a liability waiting to happen
- He’s a billionaire which means power imbalance which means recipe for disaster
- Did I mention HE SLEPT WITH ME THEN LEFT
I study the list.
Then I open my bank app.
Stare at that number again.
The one that’s smaller than my follower count used to be.
So maybe you’re not in a position to be picky, Jess.
I close the app. Open my email. Refresh again.
Still nothing.
Yep. The brand partnership isn’t coming though.
I spend the next hour doing what any rational adult would do when facing a major life decision. I doomscroll TikTok and watch other people’s perfect lives while mine implodes in real time.
