I open my fridge, grab a beer, and take a sip, replaying every moment in my head. I knew I was doing the right thing, but if someone had done that to me, I would have flipped my lid too. Now I have to go on a trip with this girl who most likely hates me more than anything.
Needing to get my mind off my day, I reach for my phone and check my app to see if Jenelle replied to me from earlier today.
To my surprise, there’s still no response from her. I decide to send another text, just in case she missed the notification from earlier.
Thank God my shitty day is over. Could use a friend to talk to. You around?
Zoe
My app ding sounds, and my stomach instantly drops. I swipe open the screen to show Macy, and her shoulders sag with my same emotions. We only stayed at the bar for another hour. If I stayed any longer, I wouldn’t be able to make it to work tomorrow due to being a hungover mess. Thankfully, she decided to join me at my place for takeout and an obscene sulking session.
“How do I not reply?” I ask, my head falling to my chest.
“But if you reply, it will instantly send him your number. Are you sure you want him to know who you are, especially after what he did today?”
“No.” I tear up, not sure what to think anymore.
I was really falling for him. I kept trying to talk myself out of it, just in case what we had wasn’t real or I was really not attracted to him or if he was catfishing me somehow, but in all the scenarios I was working through in my head, not once did I think I might know him already—or rather, hate him already.
Macy puts her drink on the coffee table and sits up more to face me. “Let’s go over the pluses and minuses of the situation, ’kay?” Macy asks, and I nod. “You really liked him when you were messaging, right?”
“Yeah …”
“So, why does that change now that you know who he is?”
“Because he has made my life hell for the last year.”
“Have you ever wondered why he does that?” She raises her eyebrows in question.
I point at her. “Don’t you dare say he’s liked me from the start and that’s why he was constantly at my throat. Believe me, it was not like that.”
She bobs her head to either side, like she’s weighing the thought. “Okay, let’s just say we don’t know why you two have always been more enemies than coworkers. How much of what you’re feeling right now has to do with what actually happened today?”
“What he did was completely fucked up!”
“Yes,” she says slowly. “But …”
I sit up quickly, spilling a few drops of my wine. “There’s no but!”
She drops her hands to her lap, letting out a deep breath. “There’s always a but …”
I roll my eyes, sit back, and allow her to continue.
“Let’s think about the message he sent you on Sunday. Did you or did you not say he should do exactly what he did?”
I look anywhere but at her, playing over ways in my mind that I can counter what she’s trying to say. When nothing comes out, I slap my hand on the couch. “But I didn’t know he was going to do it to me!”
“And that makes it different?” She laughs.
I point at her. “You know it does!”
She laughs more, which makes my lips crack in a smile, but I hold it back, trying to stay stoic.
“It really doesn’t. You gave him the approval to do this. You can’t be mad at him. He was trying to make sure the client was happy, which she was.”
I wave my hand, dismissing her words. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Don’tyeah, yeah, yeahme. It’s fact. If he hadn’t done what he did and also taken full responsibility for steering you wrong and made sure they knew it was originally your idea, you wouldn’t still be on the account, and you wouldn’t?—”
