"I don't know, Pol."
"Just think about it. You're too good to be stuck here training some nepotism hire." She's not wrong.
We continue drinking my sorrows away, then order some takeaway Indian to soak up the bottle of wine.
My phone buzzes with a message from my sister.
Collette: Hey! How did the meeting go?
I stare at the message. I told her about it last week. She was so excited for me.
Joelle: Didn't get it. Owner gave it to his son.
Collette: What!
Joelle: I did get a pay rise to mentor his son who has just graduated.
Collette: Are you serious? That's such bullshit. I'm so sorry, Jo.
Joelle: It is what it is.
Collette: No, it's not. You deserved that job.
Joelle: I know but I can't change anything.
Collette: Does that mean you're coming home?
Joelle: No.
Collette: Why not? You're not going to stay there?
Joelle: I can't leave it either because of my visa.
Collette: You can't stay either.
Joelle: I don't know what to do right now.
Collette: We miss you. You should be in New York with us.
Joelle: Still need a visa for that.
Collette: True. I'm sure we could sort something out.
Joelle: Maybe. But it won't be tonight. I've drowned my sorrows in wine and my brain is mush.
Collette: Totally understand. Call me if you need to vent.
Joelle: Will do.
Collette: Love you. Miss you.
Joelle: Me too.
I set my phone down and Polly refills my wine.
"To nepotism," she says sarcastically, raising her glass.
"To nepotism," I grumble as we clink glasses.
