Salinger:Now.
The phone rings again.
Salinger:Answer the phone.
“She’s going to go. She so wants to be there with him.” My sister sips her tequila.
Jess frowns.
My phone beeps. Salinger has left a voicemail.
“This man sounds unhinged,” Lauren remarks as we listen to him rage on the recording. “Bet he really fucks, though.” Lauren claps her hands to her mouth. “Wait, is this a booty call?”
I feel trapped in the lie. “No! I’m just good at my job. He needs me.”
Jess makes a disgusted noise.
I feel like shit. A shitty friend, a shitty feminist, and a shitty dog mom. I down another margarita.
Salinger calls again. The phone rings and rings over Reese waxing poetic about love.
“You’re not seriously going in.” Jess’s eyes search mine. “We didn’t even finish the movie.” She looks so hurt.
Suddenly, I’m just furious at Salinger. Between him and Jaxon, they’re both ruining my life, costing me my sanity and now potentially my best friend. One of the last few sources of joy in my miserable constrained life. Jess, who always has my back.
Eff that.
“Girls before self-absorbed A-holes.”
The phone rings again.
I grab the bottle of tequila and slosh it in my glass.
Then I answer the phone.
16
SALINGER
“Where’s your cute assistant?” Fitz asks.
He sidles up to me after I’ve shaken hands with and said goodbye to the representatives from Quantumcore, a chip manufacturer looking to build a factory on the West Coast. It was a successful meeting, and there was no pushback on any of the terms. The paperwork for my signature should be on my desk on Monday.
“Shit,” he says, “did you already find a replacement?”
Before I can verbally slap Fitz down, Scarlett is already sauntering over. “We’re going to have a celebratory dinner, Salinger—you coming?”
“I have other business to attend to, unfortunately. Nice work today, by the way. I understand you leveraged your network to ensure the deal went through smoothly. That’s the kind of dedication we need atRainier Equity.”
She smiles modestly. “It was just a few phone calls.”
“Scarlett, are you riding in the Uber with us?” one of the younger coworkers asks.
“Duty calls.” I incline my head, dismissing Scarlett.
“So, you’re going to be out another grand this weekend?” Fitz throws an arm around my shoulder.
“Mandy’s going to quit.” I turn away, but Fitz follows me through the lobby of the Soundview Hotel, an old, renovated canning factory. “She was crying in the bathroom earlier.”
