Well, I’ve been a total jerk. I remind myself that Zia’s a you-better-not-mess-this-up kind of woman. And that’s exactly what I’ve done. Messed it up. I cup Zia’s elbow. “Can I call you later tonight?” I ask, hoping I can repair some of the damage I’ve caused when I’m not stuck in an eight-by-eight cubicle with my best friend and my hopefully future date.
Zia’s confident smile returns. “You better, or I’ll have to run into you again some other time.”
I smile at her before turning back to Paige, who’s taken to straightening random knick-knacks on her desk. “See you, Paige.”
“See ya. Thanks again for the cookies,” Paige says, barely looking at me.
I want to stay and talk with Paige, listen as she tells me more about her morning meeting, find out what she’s thinking. I want to leave her without the residue of recent tears on her cheeks. And I want to pretend the words “double” and “date” were never mentioned around us. But something tells me we’re not going to get there with Zia in this cubicle.
So instead, I wave goodbye to Zia and Paige and hope that the next time I see them together, it’s not on a double date.
Chapter 7
PAIGE
After taking an Uber from work to the auto shop, I pay the mechanic an arm and a leg before driving a repaired Dory home and crashing on my couch.
I trail my finger across the top of the giant consolation sugar cookie, collecting as much frosting as possible before indulging in yet another mouthful of sugar. My limbs are splayed across the couch like the broken woman I am inside. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined my day snowballing like it did.
I can’t stop seeing Jay’s satisfied smirk after he got the job, or Jen’s horror as she watched her breakfast splash all over my outfit, or Zia’s smile as she squeezed Jordan’s bicep like it washer favorite pillow. And the way Zia called her and Jordan a “we,” as iftheywere the long-time friends…
I groan and lay my head on the couch’s armrest, placing the cookie box on my stomach. I need more sugar. I finish defacing the entire consolation cookie before making my way to the irony of the congratulations cookie.
That’s when Missy and Ji walk through the garage door with groceries in their hands. They’re in the middle of an animated conversation but go silent when they find me in my couch cocoon with a fingerful of frosting hovering above my mouth.
“Hello.” I smile like a rodent who just got caught stealing pizza from the garbage.
Missy and Ji’s grocery bags drop to the floor in a rustle of plastic, and they plant themselves on the ottoman in front of me. I want to hide, hiss, and claw like the trash panda I am. I’m not ready to face humans right now. I’m sick of them. Especially the beautiful, best-friend-stealing Meghan Markle lookalikes.
“Oh, honey,” Missy says, nothing but sympathy in her voice. Of course she can surmise that I didn’t get the job.
I curl into myself but realize I still have a glob of frosting on my finger and down it shamelessly before rolling away from them and into the couch seam.
“Wow, straight to frosting? You didn’t want the ice cream in the fridge?” Ji asks sarcastically.
“Ice cream is just watered-down frosting,” I mumble into the cushion. “If I’m going to drown myself in sugar, I’m going to do it quickly.”
“Want me to get you an IV? Hook the sugar right up to the vein?”
“Yes, please.” I roll over slightly, extending my arm and exposing my veins. “Right arm is best.”
“I take it you didn’t get the job,” Missy says.
I sit up, and I can tell by the way Ji and Missy’s faces scrunch that they can now see the entirety of my stained ensemble. I point to Missy’s sparkly heels, which I placed at the base of the couch when I walked in. “Let’s just say I de-luckified your Louis.”
Missy gazes at her heels as if they’re a favorite child who can do no wrong. “If something bad happened in the Louis, then there must be a reason. The Louis are always intentional.” She takes my hand and pats it like I’ve unrightfully taken the blame for a heinous crime. “You have not de-luckified the Louis.”
“Nope, I’m pretty sure I did a thorough job of it.”
Missy rocks back as if stumped. “Well, there has to be one good thing that happened in them.”
Oh, sweet, optimistic Missy.If only therewassomething good. But right now, I’m about to pull an Othello and smother her positivity. “Well, I didn’t get the job. Which hurt, especially after seeing Smirky Jay get it with all his peacock confidence, but that wasn’t all. Jordan showed up right outside the glass walls of the conference room.” I pause for effect. “Yep, he showed up, then Zia, my gorgeous co-worker, slammed right into him. They flirted, they exchanged numbers, and then they became awe, all while I was watching them like a guppy in a fish tank.Then…”
Ji and Missy’s eyes are wide. My audience is captivated. “Then, in front of an entire conference room of co-workers, including my boss, I sit on my chair wrong and go down head over heels, bringing my friend’s cup of coffee with me.”
Vindication swamps me as I stare at my friends’ horrified expressions. Then I stand, tucking my two cookie boxes underneath my arm and head toward the hallway. “I’ll be in my room, watchingAmerica’s Got Talent.”
I’m just plopping onto my bed when I hear two sets of footsteps headed for my room, then my door opens, revealing Ji and Missy. The burning behind my eyes flares up once more.I need tissues. I’m about to roll off my bed and grab the tissue box from my desk, but Missy beats me to it, bringing the box over. Missy and Ji perch on the edge of my bed, and I sit up as the tears break loose, allowing my best friends to witness the Bellagio water show streaming from my eyes.
