After the crowd thins, I inch toward Maral, who’s chatting with someone with brilliant red hair pulled into an artful chignon who gestures animatedly as she speaks.
Meredith!
I gallop at them and practically knock her down with the force of my embrace, her puff of laughter blowing back strands of my hair.
“It’s you, it’s really you!” I pull back and hold her by the shoulders. “What are you doing here?”
“As if I would miss the one event I could actually make it to!” she gushes.
“But you’re not my publicist anymore,” I say. “You’re not even at Woodsworth anymore as of this week.”
“What does that have to do with anything? I’m still your number one fan.”
I crush her to me in another hug, Mar beaming at us over Meredith’s shoulder.
“How’s the new job?” I ask.
“Great so far—thank you for the flowers, by the way. That was so sweet of you.”
I wave her off. “Those were a Trojan horse. Keep your enemies closer and all that.”
She laughs, her blue eyes sparkling. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”
Her arms give under my squeeze. “Tell us everything.”
“Well,” she says, “today was only my second day, but the people are really nice, I inherited some exciting projects, and I have anoffice. With awindow!”
I gasp, knowing what a coup this is. The cubicle farm that was the PR department at Woodsworth left much to be desired.
“Coming off a freshNew York Timesplacement didn’t hurt,” she says with a wink. “Speaking of which,bestselling author,how was the tour?”
“Not as good without you there.”
“I know, I wish I could have gone. But seems like Ryan did a great job?”
There is not a hint of solicitousness in her tone, even though she would obviously have seen the photo and knows things weren’t strictly professional between Ryan and me on the trip.
“He was excellent,” Mar puts in, saving me from having to navigate any potential awkwardness. “Except for the last-minute reorg in Chicago, every event went off without a hitch. If you couldn’t be there, he really was the next best thing.”
“Ohyay,” Meredith says. “I mean, I knew he’d kill it—he’s a friggin’ rock star. Woodsworth will be sorry to lose him.”
My eyes shoot wide. “What do you mean, lose him?”
She looks from me to Maral, then back to me. “Shit. My big mouth. Sorry, I thought he would have told you. Don’t worry—your book is still in good hands. Alison knows the whole campaign, and someexcellentcandidates are interviewing for my position—”
I shake my head. “Meredith, relax, that’s the last thing I’m thinking about. I trust the team.”
She’s visibly relieved. “Oh. Phew.”
“But,” I say, my stomach hollow, “I thought his job was safe. That…what happened…didn’t endanger it.”
Her hand darts out. “Oh my god, he didn’t get fired. From what I heard, they were willing to forgive the transgression because, well…they were told there wasn’t any coercion,” she says, confirming that my email had something to do with their assessment,“andSPOYwas going to be reassigned to my replacement after the tour anyway.”
“If he didn’t get fired, why are they losing him?” Maral asks.
Meredith’s head swivels between my cousin and me. “He resigned.”
A boulder, heavy and cragged, lands in my stomach. “What?”
