I sighed with frustration. “I must have deleted the text. I’m so sorry. I never would have been late otherwise. I really do take this job seriously, and I know I would do a really good job on this account.” I was pleading with Sam to believe me, but it was pointless—it was Meredith I needed to sell, and she certainly wasn’t buying my excuses.
“Well, try not to worry about it too much tonight. Get some sleep. If she brings it up with me, I’ll try to put in a vote of confidence for you.”
I trudged miserably to my car, completely engrossed in my thoughts.What if we don’t get the account? Will Meredith really fire me? I’ll be inrealtrouble if that happens.
I was so distracted, I barely registered the sound of the blaring car alarm coming from somewhere nearby. It finally grew so loud it snapped me out of my daze—and I realized it was coming from my car.
“What the hell?” I shrieked.
My tires had been slashed, and a single, ugly word had been scratched into the passenger side door.
WHORE.
CHAPTER12
IRUBBED MYEYESwearily as I faced the bathroom mirror the next morning, trying to rid my brain of the thick fog that clung to me. I wished I could banish the memories of the previous night—the thoughts that had kept me up, agonizing. But no such luck.
I called the police, who sent an officer to come take a report, but San Francisco being what it is, he didn’t sound confident they would find the vandal. Then I stood on the side of the street by my poor, vandalized car for nearly forty-five minutes waiting for a tow truck. The man who finally arrived said no body shops were open that late on a Sunday, but he knew of one nearby where he could tow my car and leave it overnight. He’d have the head mechanic, a friend of his, call me in the morning to give me prices on new tires and a paint job. Luckily only the two tires on the passenger’s side facing the curb had been slashed, and not all four of them. I took an Uber home.
At work, Meredith ignored me, and Tina—the new Sampson account manager—called another meeting for the team. I tried my best to concentrate as she droned on and on about analytics, trying not to be bitter about the fact that she was seven years younger than me, with way less experience. Halfway through themeeting, my phone rang. It was the body shop, but I let it go to voicemail. No need to attract any more of Meredith’s ire.
I called the mechanic back after the meeting.
“We’re finished with the paint job,” the mechanic said. “We’re ready to put the tires on—we just need to know what kind you want.”
“How much are we talking?”
“If you want the same brand you had before, the new tires will run you about a hundred and forty bucks a pop.”
“So, seven-fifty for the paint job, and about two-eighty for the tires?”
“Oh, no, no. Sorry, sweetheart. You’re going to need to replace all four tires. The other two are worn down enough that you’ll be off-balance if you only replace two.”
I sighed, kneading my forehead again.Over thirteen hundred bucks.And my credit card still wasn’t working. But what was I going to do? Leave my car at the shop indefinitely?
Painfully, I placed an order for four new tires. Then I logged back into my bank account and transferred money out of savings, since I was going to have to pay cash. I grimaced at how low the balance was getting, and made a mental note to call and check on the status of my credit card disputes. It had been a while since I had sent in the letter from Sam confirming that I was at work during the infamous liquor store purchase, and I still hadn’t heard back.
I swallowed a mouthful of rage.What else ya got to throw at me, universe? You haven’t quite finished me off yet, but you’re doing a bang-up job of trying.
Friday night, Jenna and Ellie came over to try and cheer me up with a girls’ night in. We made popcorn and ice cream sundaes, and Jenna brought over more cans of the delicious Paloma-Rita mocktails, which I served in martini glasses garnished with lime.
I got a little teary-eyed as I caught them up on everything that had happened lately. Ellie made all the appropriate utterances and expressions of outrage that a best friend should. Jenna was quiet, but I could tell by her face she was sympathetic and concerned.
“You think Madison is the one doing all this to you?” Jenna finally asked.
“She has to be—who else could it possibly be?” I argued. “I just can’t figure outhowshe’s doing it. How did she send me a text that looked like it was from my boss? Plus, Max says he never got the text I sent him inviting him to my ultrasound, even though it shows up on my phone in our text history—and I got aresponsefrom him.”
“Maybe you need to take your phone to the Geek Squad or something, and have someone take a look at it,” Ellie offered.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”But another expense, right?I shook my head, trying to dispel the negative thoughts. Suddenly, I didn’t want to talk about the mess of my life anymore. “Jenna, isn’t your ultrasound coming up soon? Have you decided if you’re going to find out if it’s a girl or a boy?”
Jenna’s smile instantly disappeared. She took a sip of her mocktail, her eyes downcast. “I haven’t scheduled it yet. And no, I don’t think I want to find out. But hey—should we watch the movie?”
“Yes! I have a variety of cheesy eighties movies for us to choose from,” I announced. “Do we wantDon’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead,Sixteen Candles, orAdventures in Babysitting?”
Someone was nudging me awake. I struggled to open my eyes as sunlight streamed in between the blinds of my bedroom window. I felt Ellie stirring in the bed next to me.
“Savannah, wake up. Someone’s at the door,” Jenna said. She was leaning over me.
