CHAPTER 1
Crossing her arms, Colette Slip tossed an angry glare at the two people standing in front of her. One, a giant teddy bear of a man, had his arms reaching out for her. The other, a pert, no-nonsense blonde, sent her a look of abject pity. Colette was having none of it.
“Touch me and I’ll rip your arms off,” she warned. Even though she had been laid off because of an economic downturn in Calgary, she did not want her friends to feel bad for her. She had no intention of landing anywhere but back on her feet.
Cameron placed a hand on his chest and gasped. “I’m simply offering comfort, no need to bite my head off,” he retorted.
“I don’t need hugs. I need a job. And I need to get drunk. Fast.”
Cameron turned to look at Simone, who stood next to him in her designer tweed suit, for support. All she had to offer was a red-lipped, pouty frown and a discouraged shake of her head.
Taking Colette by the shoulders, Simone sighed heavily. “Babe, I’m so proud of you. Bad bitches walk out with their heads held high. Let me help you pack up. Then, we’ll get drunk. After my meeting with the Palliser organization, of course.”
Colette drooped like a wilting flower, her dark curls covering her face.
Some friends.
Imaginewanting to finish their workday. A sob climbed up her throat, and she pushed it down. This was really happening. Life as she knew it was over, but she refused to let her emotions show.
“Call me when you’re both done and we’ll meet up. I’m a keener, so I’ll be getting an early start on drinking,” she said, her mouth set in a grim line.
A security guard cleared his throat, standing a few steps away with his hands clutched over his middle. Colette scowled. She had glares for everyone today.
“Can I just get a minute to pack up my stuff and say goodbye to my friends?” she asked, quietly pulling open each drawer and checking for anything left behind. There wasn’t much that didn’t belong to the company. Let’s face it, she usually kept everything in her overly large and heavy purse and hadn’t taken much time to “move in” to her cubicle. She pulled out the pushpin that held a single photo up on the soft wall of her so-called office. No part of her would miss the little accounting cage she had worked in for two years.
For a moment, she admired the happy photograph of her and her sister posing with their parents on a trip to Disneyland. They were all fucking exhausted and constantly bickering on that trip, and yet, it was one of the best times of her life. Her mouth tilted to the side in a half-smile as she gazed at her sister Aurora, with hair matching Colette’s tossed around her face wildly by the wind. Such wide grins. One day, Colette promised herself she would return. Or maybe, now that she had a small payout and all the time in the world, she would ditch this city and escape to The Happiest Place on Earth. There wasn’t much keeping her here. Colette clutched the picture to her chest, tears threatening.
“Let’s go. I’ll walk you out,” Simone whispered in her ear, her hand rubbing circles on Colette’s back. “Don’t let these fuckers see you cry. Especially not micropeen guy.”
Colette snorted. “I’ll miss making fun of his micropeen,” she said with a watery chuckle. The man they called micropeen had shown promise in theory as a relationship prospect, but in fact had zero interest in her for more than one night. It seemed like she had no value beyond a quick fuck for most of the men she had dated lately. Her company didn’t want her, and no man wanted her for more than a moment in time. When had she become so disposable?
Cameron snorted, breaking Colette out of her negative thought spiral.
“We can still make fun of it, babe. Not everything has to change,” Simone noted with a soft laugh, tossing her long ponytail behind her.
“You may not work here anymore, but he will always have a micropeen,” Cameron said, wrapping his arms around Colette, now that her anger was slightly diffused.
His love language was touch, and even when she wasn’t wanting the affection, he always managed to get some from her. Forced hugs, as he liked to call them. She sighed in his strong arms, once again wishing that he wasn’t gay. He would make such an amazing boyfriend, just the kind of big, strong man she dreamed about, except for the lack of mutual sexual attraction. Cam always smelled good, and he was the best wingman a woman could ever have. Her breath hitched and she turned to grab her jacket. It was time to go before she started to cry.
“Make me proud, Cam. You know I’ll always love you,” she said, patting a hand on his chest.
“Don’t talk like we’re never going to see each other. We have that Colin Firth thirstyPride and Prejudicemarathon this weekend. And we’re drinking tonight.” He gave her a gorgeousgrin and smoothed his dark brown waves to the side. Adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses, he swiped his palms over the lapels of his suit.
Colette nodded, gathering her large bag and a small box of her possessions. Head held high, she began the walk of shame to the elevator. “Young Colin Firth is such a snack,” she mused.
“You know it,” Cam agreed, waving her off. “You’ve got this, beauty. You’re a fucking queen.”
She straightened her spine, comforted by the fact that she was leaving the company richer by two best friends. They may take away her accounting position, but they could never take away Simone Cormier and Cameron Mack.
Everyone covertly watched her depart, just as she had observed a trail of laid-off workers departing solemnly throughout the week. The Office of Jones and Miller was making big cuts after being bought out by a larger firm and she was collateral damage.
Redundant.
She avoided the pitiful stares, grateful for Simone’s hand on her back. The security guard pushed the elevator button, and they waited in silence.
Colette transferred the box to one arm and touched Simone’s hand.
“I got this. Go to your meeting. We’ll get drunk later, Simmie,” she insisted.
