One of our trainers, James, notices me walking back inside. “Did you Uber?” he asks, doing a slow air curl. Apparently it’s something called “isotension,” which Petra told me is a fancy word for flexing. He always flexes his arms when he speaks. It’s like his vocal cords are attached to his humerus.
“Yeah. My car wouldn’t start this morning.”
“You should’ve asked me. I could’ve driven you.”
“Oh, thanks. But I didn’t want to bother anybody.”
In addition to his incessant arm flexing, James loves to gossip about everything he hears to anybody who’ll listen. I don’t want him spreading the word that I’m looking for a new job.
“I don’t mind,” he says.
“Thanks.”But no.
I’m just walking into my office when my phone pings.Sabrina already?
But it’s Georgia.
–Georgia: OMG, Karma’s a bitch! Did you see what happened?
–Me: No. What was it?
–Georgia: Owen’s been canceled! He was fired yesterday. Or maybe the day before. Anyway, that isn’t important. What’s cool is that he’s been—
She attaches a GIF of somebody dragging his finger across his neck.
I stare at her text for a long moment. Owen always said he was secure in his position because nobody else could do what he could. He also said he could bring in more clicks than any other food critic—which was apparently true. He has the biggest online following at the restaurant review site where he works.
–Me: What happened?
–Georgia: Somebody found some of his old Tweets and emails, disparaging big women for eating at restaurants when they “should be at home, dieting.” Lemme send you the screencap.
The Tweet Georgia forwards me is much worse than she made it sound. Owen didn’t just stop at telling big women to stay home and eat lettuce. He also attached a picture of an enormous pig covered with mud and captioned it,What certain women look like when they’re eating chocolate.
Oh my God!Howawful. What a jerk! It’s so gross that I dated him! How did he really feel about me while we were together? Did he disparage me too? And why in the world did he say, “I love you,” if he thinks this about women who aren’t Dana-sized?
And Georgia said “Tweets.” So there must be more. And emails too.
The Tweet Georgia sent is only four years old, so he can’t blame youthful ignorance.
–Georgia: He issued a non-apology, which didn’t work. Dana tried to defend him publicly, but made the post private when she got so many angry comments on it. Her entire Instagram account is private now.
–Me: OMG. That explains why she wasn’t at the gym.
–Georgia: I doubt that beer brewery’s going to keep her on. She literally blamed women for being humorless and taking themselves too seriously. And she also said the only people who’d be bothered by what Owen said are “fat people who have inferiority complexes.” Apparently, “if you’re proud and happy in the body you’re in, you don’t need anybody else’s validation.”
Wow. She really dug it deep. On the other hand, that type of attitude from her doesn’t surprise me. I’ve never heard her say, “I’m sorry,” to anybody. And it isn’t because she’s never done anything wrong.
Hmm.I wonder if Owen was contacting me to get me to defend him. He’s delusional if he honestly believes I’ll do anything of the sort.
–Georgia: Those two deserve each other. I’m so happy they’re going to be miserable together.
I smile a little. I’m a bit surprised I’m not feeling anything strong for them one way or the other, unlike before, when I’d just been dumped. I’m not particularly thrilled about him losing his job or Dana going through whatever she’s going through. But at the same time, I don’t have much sympathy. They’ve been selfish and unkind. Not just with the social media posts, but with people in general.
But I’m not going to spend a lot of time on this. Owen and Dana are in my past. Nicholas is my present.
I wrap up the latest sales figures and projections and send them to Elaine to review. At five sharp I shut down my computer and head out so Nicholas won’t have to wait.
The instant I step out of the air-conditioned gym’s thumping music into the heat and street noises of Los Angeles, a rough hand grabs me and yanks me to the side. My heart starts racing.Am I getting mugged?
