Also, the maybe loving him thing, except I don’t allow myself to linger.
“About to head home for the day,” I say, likely in vain.
A light repetitive beep sounds in my ear, signaling I have another call, and great, that’s probably the reporter calling me back at long last, now that everything will have to be changed.
I swing my phone in front of my face, not wanting to miss him but fretting over having to ask my boss to hold.
It’s not the reporter, though.
Wanda’s info flashes onscreen, and I stare at it for far too long, ravenous for sympathy, validation, and affection.
“Let’s make sure to generate as much extra buzz before the press conference as we can.” Simone’s voice sounds distant, but the urgency and expectation for me to hop-to comes through loud and clear. “I want them salivating.”
Bylet’sshe means me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve learned a ton. Simone was brilliant, not to mention so freaking charismatic it sent up a tiny red flag I’d ignored becauseTop publicity firm in Miami! Second chance!I’m good enough, I promise!
All because I refused to become my mother and end up beholden to a guy, or my grandmother, who got hurt in every way you can be and shut her heart completely.
I didn’t know the right answer, and with Simone’s targets always bobbing and weaving, and me constantly jumping as high as she asks, I’ve grown skeptical of the idea I could truly have it all.
Hell, I couldn’t even get enough time to catch up on the fantasy series everyone was raving about online, and I’m desperate to find out whether Violet Sorrengail gets a dragon.
“On it,” I automatically say, clicking out of programs and tabs and logging off my computer as Simone signs off. The ticking clock on the big press conference has begun, only two days to go, but I decide to do the rest of my prep at home. I’ve hit the twelve-hour mark at the office and at least my apartment isn’t lit with fluorescents—I have a serious headache forming.
I go to return Wanda’s call as I’m gathering my belongings and stuffing thick folders in my bag, but as I pull up my contacts, my phone rings.
And there he actually is, my soon-to-be-infuriated reporter.
It takes me a second to gather the courage to answer, and rather than build up to it, I rip off the Band-Aid in a flash, launching into an explanation about how twisting the angle will be much better.
We debate my entire ride home, until at long last, he gives in while remaining upset.
Once I walk through the door to my apartment, I drop my laptop bag on the floor, too exhausted to lift it higher. Then I head straight down the hall and fling myself face down on the bed, even kicking off my shoes too much effort.
Even as tired as I am, here comes the barrage, all the intrusive thoughts that insist on running laps while I try to fall asleep. Over and over, no matter how many times or ways my brain spun it, I couldn’t imagine ever finding anything close to what I had at Lakeview Retirement Village.
Not just Noah, although he was a big, burly piece.
And, as I drift off to sleep, I can’t help but think that for a gal who lived out other’s regrets, I sure am filled with them.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I have no idea what time it is when I wake up and begin frantically patting my covers in search of my phone, only that sunlight’s streaming through the blinds and my eyeballs are refusing to focus.
I can’t decide which is more pressing, figuring out the time or taking off my shoes so dirt and germs don’t end up on my bedsheets.It’s too late. I’ll have to wash them over the weekend.
Not sure when I’ll have the time to schlep it to the community laundry room with the ticking clock on the press conference breathing down my neck, but that’s a problem for my future self. Lifting my ankles so the soles won’t touch the sheets, I crawl toward the edge of my bed on hands and teetering knees, pouncing on every wrinkle like Fifi used to do when I made my bed in the mornings.
My utter discombobulation feels eerily similar to that long weekend I slept through last spring before getting fired. If it’s still Friday morning—which I really need it to be—I have an early meeting I absolutely can’t miss with all the final prep details, and I can’t believe I let this happen again.
At the muffled sound of my phone buzzing, I freeze, holding my breath and craning my ear.
Then I spin in a circle, catching sight of the blingy red case peeking out from beneath the covers. I bought it as a gift to myself for starting a new job, and as another reminder to myself I could be bold, assertive, and even sexy.
Bonus, the loud color also helps me find it.
Blowing the hair out of my eyes, I snatch it up like a crystal ball that’ll reveal my fate, flicking on the sound as I lift my phone to my face.
